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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19099-8.txt b/19099-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..00ebfe4 --- /dev/null +++ b/19099-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8441 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, +May, 1863, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 21, 2006 [EBook #19099] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +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) + + + + + + + +THE + +CONTINENTAL MONTHLY: + +DEVOTED TO + +LITERATURE AND NATIONAL POLICY. + + * * * * * + +VOL. III.--MAY, 1863.--No. V. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE GREAT PRAIRIE STATE. + + +I should not wonder if some of your readers were less acquainted with +this Western Behemoth of a State than with the republic of San Marino, +which is about as large as a pocket handkerchief. The one has a history, +which the other as yet has not, and of all people in the world, our own +dear countrymen--with all their talk about Niagara, and enormous lakes, +and prodigious rivers--care the least for great natural features of +country, and the most for historical and romantic associations. When an +Englishman, landing at New York, begins at once to inquire for the +prairies, it is only very polite New Yorkers who can refrain from +laughing at him. + +But it is not so much of natural features that I wish to speak at +present. Illinois has been abused lately; brought into discredit by the +misbehavior of some of her sons; but this only makes her loyal friends +love her the more, knowing well how good her heart is, how high-toned +her feeling, how determined her courage. + +Looking at this State from New York, the image is that of a great green +prairie, the monotony of whose surface is scarcely broken by the rivers +which cross it here and there, and the great lines of railroad that +serve as causeways through the desperate mud of spring and winter. A +scattered people, who till the unctuous black soil only too easily, and +leave as much of the crop rotting on the ground through neglect as would +support the entire population; rude though thriving towns, where the +grocery and the tavern, the ball room and the race course are more +lovingly patronized than the church, the Sunday school, and the lyceum; +where party spirit runs high, and elections are attended to, whatever +else may be forgotten; where very unseemly jokes are current, and +language far from choice passes unrebuked in society; in short, where +what are known as 'Western characteristics' bear undisputed sway, making +their natal region anything but a congenial residence for strangers of +an unaccommodating disposition--such is the picture. + +It were useless to deny that most of the points here indicated would be +recognized and placed on his map by a Moral and Social topographer who +should make the tour of the entire State from Cairo to Dunleith, both +inclusive; but it is none the less certain that if he noted only these +he would ill deserve his title. Cicero had a huge, unsightly wart on +his eloquent nose; the fair mother of Queen Elizabeth, a 'supplemental +nail' on one of her beautiful hands; Italy has her Pontine Marshes, New +York city her 'Sixth Ward'; but he must be a green-eyed monster indeed +who would represent these as characteristics. Illinois deserves an +explorer with clear, kind eyes, and a historiographer as genial as +Motley. All in good time. She will 'grow' these, probably. While we are +waiting for them, let us prepare a few jottings for their use. + +A great State is a great thing, certainly, but mere extent or mere +material wealth, without intellectual and social refinement and a high +moral tone, can never excite very deep interest. Not that we can expect +to find every desirable thing actually existent in a country as soon as +it is partially settled and in possession of the first necessities of +human society. But we may expect aspirations after the best things, and +a determination to acquire and uphold them. These United States of +ours--God bless them forever!--have a constitutional provision against +the undue preponderance of physical advantages over those of a higher +kind. Rhode Island (loyal to the core), and Delaware (just loyal enough +to keep her sweet), each sends her two Senators to Congress; and huge +Illinois--whom certain ill-advised Philistines are trying to make a +blind Samson of--can send no more. If we say the State that sends the +best men is the greatest State (for the time, especially the present +time), 'all the people shall answer Amen!' for one loyal heart, just +now, is more precious than millions of fat acres. Whether Illinois could +prudently submit to this appraisal, just at the present moment, remains +to be proved; but that her heart is loyal as well as brave, there can be +no question. + +Without going back, in philosophical style, to the creation of the +world, we may say that the State had a good beginning. Father Marquette +and his pious comrade Allouez, both soldiers of the Cross, explored her +northern wilds for God, and not for greed. They saw her solid and serene +beauty, and presaged her greatness, and they did all that wise and +devoted Catholic missionaries could do toward sanctifying her soil to +good ends forever. They found 'a peaceful and manly tribe' in her +interior, the name Illinois signifying 'men of men,' and the superiority +of the tribe to all the other Indians of the region justifying the +appellation. Allouez said, 'Their country is the best field for the +gospel,' and he planted it as well as he could with what he believed to +be the Tree of Life, long nourished with the prayers and tears of +himself and his successors. The Indians took kindly to the teaching of +the good and wise Frenchman, and it is said that even after troubles had +begun to arise, owing, as usual, to the misconduct of rapacious and +unprincipled white settlers, many of the Indians held fast by their +newly adopted faith, and even showed some good fruits of it in +forbearance and honesty of dealing. All this was not far from +contemporary with the period when Cotton Mather, in New England, while +teaching the principles of civil government, was persecuting Quakers and +burning witches; and in yet another part of the new country, William +Penn, neither Catholic nor Puritan, was making fair and honest treaties +with savages, and winning them, by the negative virtue of truthfulness, +to believe that white men could be friends. + +The Great Colbert, minister to Louis XIV, under whose auspices the +French missionaries had been sent out, very soon came to the conclusion +that it was important to enlarge and strengthen French influence in this +great new country, particularly after he had ascertained the existence +of the 'Great River,' which Father Marquette had undertaken to explore, +and by means of which he expected to open trade with China! But the +minister of finance required rather more worldly agents than the +single-hearted and devoted ministers of religion, and he found a fitting +instrument in the young and ardent Robert de la Salle, a Frenchman of +enterprise and sagacity, worldly enough in his motives, but of +indomitable energy and perseverance. He was very successful in +establishing commerce in furs and other productions of the country, but +lost his life somewhere near the mouth of the Mississippi, which he +first explored, after escaping a thousand dangers. His name is famous in +the land, and a large town was called after it; but what would he say if +he heard his patronymic transformed into 'Lay-séll,' as it is, +universally, among the 'natives'? + +It is in La Salle's first _procès verbal_ for his government that we +find the first mention of the river 'Chekagou,' a lonely stream then, +but which now reflects a number of houses and stores, tall steeples, +colossal grain depots, and--the splendid edifice which fitly enshrines +the northern terminus of the Illinois Central Railroad, the greatest +railway in the world, and certainly one of the wonders which even the +ambitious and sanguine La Salle never dreamed of; a daily messenger of +light and life through seven hundred miles of country, which, without +it, would have remained a wilderness to this day. + +The first settler on the banks of this now so famous river was a black +man from St. Domingo, Jean Baptiste Point-au-Sable by name, who brought +some wealth with him, and built a residence which must have seemed grand +for that time and place. He did not stay long, however, and the Indians, +who had probably suffered some things from the arrogance of their white +neighbors, thought it a good joke to say that 'the first 'white man' +that settled there was a negro.' Like some other jokes, this one seems +to have rankled deep and long, for to this day Illinois tolerates +neither negro nor Indian. The Indian, _as_ an Indian, has no foothold in +the State; and the negro, even in the guise of born and skilled laborer +in the production of the crops which form the wealth of the country, and +of the new ones which are to be transplanted hither in consequence of +the war, is forbidden, under heavy penalties, to set foot within her +boundaries--the threat of slavery, like a flaming sword, guarding the +entrance of this paradise of the laborer. + +Illinois has not suffered as much in tone and character from +unprincipled speculators as some others of the new States. Her early +settlers were generally men of muscle, mental as well as bodily; men who +did not so much expect to live by their wits and other people's folly, +as by their own industry and enterprise. Among the early inhabitants of +Chicago and other important towns, were some whose talents and character +would have been valuable anywhere. Public spirit abounded, and the men +of that day evidently felt as men should feel who are destined to be the +ancestors of great cities. In 1837, when the business affairs of Chicago +were in a distressing state, and private insolvency was rather the rule +than the exception, many debtors and a few demagogues called a public +meeting, the real though not the avowed object of which was to bring +about some form of repudiation. Some inflammatory suggestions, designed +to excite to desperate thoughts those whose affairs were cruelly +embarrassed, having wrought up the assembly to the point of forgetting +all but the distresses of the moment, a call was made for the mayor, who +came forward, and in a few calm and judicious words besought all present +to pause before they ventured on dishonorable expedients. He entreated +them to bear up with the courage of men, remembering that no calamity +was so great as the loss of self-respect; that it were better for them +to conceal their misfortunes than to proclaim them; that many a fortress +had been saved by the courage of its defenders, and their determination +to conceal its weakened condition at all sacrifices. 'Above all things,' +he said, 'do not tarnish the honor of our infant city!' + +These manly words called up manly thoughts, and the hour of danger +passed by. + +At one time the legislature were induced, by means of various tricks, +together with some touches of that high-handed insolence by which such +things are accomplished, to pass a resolution for a convention to alter +the constitution of the State, with a view to the introduction of +SLAVERY. One of the newspapers ventured an article which exposed the +scandalous means by which the resolutions had been carried through the +House. The 'proofs' of this article were stolen from the printing +office, and the parties implicated in this larceny attempted to induce a +mob to demolish the office and the offending editor. But the pluck which +originated the stinging article sufficed for the defence of the office. +The effort to establish slavery in Illinois was kept up for a year or +more, but the bold editor and other friends of freedom labored +incessantly for the honor of the State, and succeeded at length in +procuring an overwhelming vote against the threatened disgrace. + +Laws against duelling are laughed at in other States, but Illinois made +hers in earnest, affixing the penalty of death to the deliberate killing +of a man, even under the so-called code of honor. This severe law did +not suffice to prevent a fatal duel, the actors of which probably +expected to elude the penalty with the usual facility. The State, +however, in all simplicity, hung the survivor, and from that day to this +has had no further occasion for such severity. + +Of late, the same Personage who has in all ages been disposed to buy +men's souls at his own delusive price, and to make his dupes sign the +infernal contract with their blood, has been very busy in certain parts +of the State, trying to get signatures, under the miserable pretence +that party pays better than patriotism, and that times of whirlwind and +disaster are those in which he, the contractor, has most power to +advance the interests of his adherents. But some of those who listened +most greedily to the glozings of the arch deceiver begin already to +repent, and are ready to call upon higher powers to interfere and efface +the record of their momentary weakness. In all _diablerie_ the _fiat_ of +a superior can release a victim, so we may hope that godlike patriotism +may not only forgive the penitent, but absolve him from the consequences +of his own rash folly. To have been instrumental in dimming for one +moment the glorious escutcheon of Illinois, requires pardon. To such +words as have been spoken by some of her sons we may apply the poet's +sentence: + + 'To speak them were a deadly sin! + And for having but thought them thy heart within + A treble penance must be done.' + +The recent Message of Governor Yates is full of spirit, the right +spirit, a warm and generous, a courageous and patriotic one. He glories +in the great things he has to tell, but it is not 'as the fool +boasteth,' but rather as the apostle, who, when he recounts only plain +and manifest truths, says, 'Bear with me.' And truly, what wonders have +been achieved by the 'men of men'! Since the war began, Illinois, though +she has given one hundred and thirty-five thousand of her able-bodied +men to the field, and though the closing of the Mississippi has produced +incalculable loss, has sent away food enough to supply ten millions of +people, and she has now remaining, of last year's produce, as much as +can be shipped in a year. This enormous productiveness has given rise to +the idea that Illinois is principally a grain-growing State, but she +none the less possesses every requisite for commerce and manufactures. +Not content even in war time with keeping up all her old sources of +wealth, she has added to the list the production of sugar, tobacco, and +even cotton, all of which have been found to flourish in nearly every +portion of the State. The seventh State in point of population in 1850, +she was the fourth in 1860, and in the production of coal she has made a +similar advance. In railroads she is in reality the first, though +nominally only the second; possessing three thousand miles, intersecting +the State in all directions. Ten years ago the cost of all the railroad +property within her bounds was about $1,500,000; in 1860 it was +$104,944,561--an instance of progress unparalleled. But these are not +the greatest things. + +Education receives the most enlightened attention, and all that the +ruling powers can accomplish in persuading the people to avail +themselves of the very best opportunities for mental enlargement and +generous cultivation is faithfully done. It is for the people themselves +to decide whether they will be content with the mere rudiments of +education, or accept its highest gifts, gratis, at the hands of the +State. If the pursuit of the material wealth which lies so temptingly +around them should turn aside their thoughts from this far greater boon, +or so pervert their minds as to render them insensible to its value, +they will put that material wealth to shame. It is true that in some +cases the disgust felt by loyal citizens at infamous political +interference may have operated to prevent their sending their children +to school; but these evils are sectional and limited, and the schools +themselves will, before long, so enlighten the dark regions as to render +such stupidity impossible. It is to the infinite credit of the State +that since the war began there has been no diminution, but on the +contrary, an increase in schools, both private and public, in number of +pupils, teachers, school houses, and amount of school funds. Of eight +thousand two hundred and twenty-three male teachers in 1860, _three +thousand_ went to the war, showing that it is among her most intelligent +and instructed classes that we are to look for the patriotism of +Illinois. The deficiency thus created operated legitimately and +advantageously in giving employment to a greatly increased number of +female teachers. + +As to patriotism, let not the few bring disgrace upon the many. It is +true that scarcely a day passes unmarked by the discovery that some +grovelling wretch has been writing to the army to persuade soldiers to +desert on political grounds; yet as these disgraceful letters, as +published in the papers, give conclusive proof of the utter ignorance of +their writers, we must not judge the spirit of the State by them, any +more than by the louder disloyal utterances of men who have not their +excuse. Governor Yates speaks for the PEOPLE when he says: + + 'Our State has stood nobly by the Constitution and the Union. She + has not faltered for a moment in her devotion. She has sent her + sons in thousands to defend the Flag and avenge the insults heaped + upon it by the traitor hordes who have dared to trail it in the + dust. On every battle field she has poured out her blood, a willing + sacrifice, and she still stands ready to do or die. She has sent + out also the Angel of Mercy side by side with him who carries the + flaming sword of War. On the battle field, amid the dying and the + dead; in the hospital among the sick and wounded of our State, may + be seen her sons and daughters, ministering consolation and + shedding the blessings of a divine charity which knows no fear, + which dreadeth not the pestilence that walketh by night or the + bullet of the foe by day.' + +Governor Yates himself, on receiving intelligence of the battle of Fort +Donelson, repaired at once to the scene of suffering, feeling--like the +lamented Governor Harvey of Wisconsin, who lost his life in the same +service--that where public good is to be done, the State should be +worthily and effectively represented by her chief executive officer. +There on the spot, trusting to no hearsay, Mr. Yates, while distributing +the bounteous stores of which he was the bearer, ascertained by actual +observation the condition and wants of the troops, and at once set about +devising measures of relief. After Shiloh, that Golgotha of our brave +boys, the Governor organized a large corps of surgeons and nurses, and +went himself to Pittsburg Landing to find such suffering and such +destitution as ought never to exist on the soil of our bounteous land, +under any possible conjuncture of circumstances, however untoward and +unprecedented. Without surgeons or surgical appliances, without hospital +supplies, and, above all, worse than all, without SYSTEM, there lay the +defenders of our national life, their wounds baking in the hot sun, +worms devouring their substance while yet the breath of life kept their +desolate hearts beating. Doing all that could be done on the spot, and +bringing away all who could be brought, the Governor returned, sending +the adjutant-general back on the same errand, and going himself a second +time as soon as a new supply of surgeons and sanitary stores, +contributed by private kindness, could be got together. And so on, as +long as the necessity existed. The great expenses involved in the relief +and transportation of many thousands of sick and wounded, expenses +unusual and not provided for by law, were gladly borne by the State, and +careful provision was made against the recurrence of the evil. May our +Heavenly Father in His great mercy so order the future as to make these +preparations unnecessary, wise and humane though they be! Says Governor +Yates: + + 'I have hope for my country, because I think the right policy has + been adopted. There remains but one other thing to make my + assurance doubly sure; and that is, I want to see no divisions + among the friends of the Union in the loyal States. Could I know + that the people of the Free States were willing to ignore party, + and resolved to act with one purpose and one will for the vigorous + prosecution of the war and the restoration of the Union, then I + should have no doubt of a happy end to all our difficulties. * * * + + 'If the members of this General Assembly, and the press and people + of Illinois, in the spirit of lofty patriotism, could lay aside + everything of a party character, and evince to the country, to our + army, and, especially to the secession States, that we are one in + heart and sentiment for every measure for the vigorous prosecution + of the war, it would have a more marked effect upon the suppression + of the rebellion than great victories achieved over the enemy upon + the battle field. For, when the North shall present an undivided + front--a stern and unfaltering purpose to exhaust every available + means to suppress the rebellion, then the last prop of the latter + will have fallen from under it, and it will succumb and sue for + peace. Should divisions mark our councils, or any considerable + portion of our people give signs of hesitation, then a shout of + exultation will go up, throughout all the hosts of rebeldom, and + bonfires and illuminations be kindled in every Southern city, + hailing our divisions as the sure harbingers of their success. We + must stand by the President, and send up to him, and to our brave + armies in the field, the support of an undivided sentiment and one + universal cheer from the masses of all the loyal States. The stern + realities of actual war have produced unanimity among our soldiers + in the army. With them the paltry contests of men for political + power dwindle into insignificance before the mightier question of + the preservation of the national life. Coming into closer contact + with Southern men and society, the sentiments of those who looked + favorably upon Southern institutions have shifted round. They have + now formed their own opinions of the proper relations of the + Federal Government to them, which no sophistry of the mere + politician can ever change. Seeing for themselves slavery and its + effects upon both master and slave, they learn to hate it and swear + eternal hostility to it in their hearts. Fighting for their + country, they learn doubly to love it. Fighting for the Union, they + resolve to preserve, at all hazards, the glorious palladium of our + liberties. + + 'I believe this infernal rebellion can be, ought to be, and will be + subdued. The land may be left a howling waste, desolated by the + bloody footsteps of war, from Delaware bay to the gulf, but our + territory shall remain unmutilated--the country shall be one, and + it shall be free in all its broad boundaries, from Maine to the + gulf, and from ocean to ocean. + + 'In any event, may we be able to act a worthy part in the trying + scenes through which we are passing; and should the star of our + destiny sink to rise no more, may we feel for ourselves and may + history preserve our record clear before heaven and earth, and hand + down the testimony to our children, that we have done all, perilled + and endured all, to perpetuate the priceless heritage of Liberty + and Union, unimpaired to our posterity.' + +And in this fervid utterance of our warm-hearted Governor, the free +choice of a free people, let us consider Illinois as expressing her +honest sentiments. + + + + +A WINTER IN CAMP. + + +I was painfully infusing my own 'small Latin and less Greek' into the +young Shakspeares of a Western college, when the appointment of a friend +to the command of the ----th Iowa regiment opened to me a place upon his +staff. Three days afterward, in one of the rough board-shanties of Camp +McClellan, I was making preparations for my first dress parade. The less +said of the _dress_ of that parade, the better. There was no lack of +comfortable clothing, but every man had evidently worn the suit he was +most willing to throw away when his Uncle Samuel presented him with a +new one; and a regiment of such suits drawn up in line, made but a sorry +figure in comparison with the smartly uniformed ----th, which had just +left the ground. Their colonel, in the first glory of his sword and +shoulder straps, was replaced by a very rough-looking individual, with a +shabby slouched hat pushed far back on his head, and a rusty overcoat, +open just far enough to show the place where a cravat might have been. +It was very plain, as he stood there with his arms folded, thin lips +compressed, and gray eyes hardly visible under their shaggy brows, that +whether he _looked_ the colonel or not was the last thought likely to +trouble him. I fancied that he did, in spite of all, and that he saw a +great deal of good stuff in the party-colored rows before him, which he +would know how to use when the right moment came: subsequent events +proved that I was not mistaken. The regiment had no reason to be ashamed +of their rough colonel, even when the two hundred that were left of them +laid down their arms late in the afternoon of that bloody Sabbath at +Shiloh, on the very spot where the swelling tide of rebels had beaten +upon them like a rock all day long. + +But these after achievements are no part of my present story. The more +striking passages of this great war for freedom will be well and fully +told. Victories like Donelson, death-struggles like that on the plains +of Shiloh, will take their place in ample proportions on the page of +history. As years roll on they will stand out in strong relief, and be +the mountain tops which receding posterity will still recognize when all +the rest has sunk beneath the horizon. It were well that some record +should also be made of the long and dull days and weeks and months that +intervened between these stirring incidents: at least that enough should +be told of them to remind our children that they existed, and in this as +in all other wars, made up the great bulk of its toils. This indeed +seems the hardest lesson for every one but soldiers to learn. Few but +those who have had actual experience know how small a part fighting +plays in war; how little of the soldier's hardships and privations, how +little of his dangers even are met upon the battle field. Tame as +stories of barrack life must seem when we are thrilling with the great +events for which that life furnishes the substratum, it is worth our +while, for the sake of this lesson, to give them also their page upon +the record, to spread these neutral tints in due proportion upon the +broad canvas. It is partly for this reason that I turn back to sketch +the trivial and monotonous scenes of a winter in barracks. It is well to +remind you, dear young friends, feminine and otherwise, at home, that a +great many days and nights of patient labor go to one brilliant battle. +When your loudest huzzas and your sweetest smiles are showered on the +lucky ones who have achieved great deeds and walked through the red +baptism of fire, remember also how much true courage and fortitude have +been shown in bearing the daily hardships of the camp, without the +excitement of hand-to-hand conflict. + +The new uniforms came at last, and all the slang epithets with which our +regiment had been received were duly transferred to the newly arrived +squads of the next in order. Then we began to speculate on the time and +mode of our departure. It was remarkable how keenly the most contented +dispositions entered into these questions. There is in military life a +monotony of routine, and at the same time a constant mental excitement, +that make change--change of some sort, even from better to worse--almost +a necessity. I had already stretched myself in my bunk one evening, and +was half asleep, when I heard joyful voices cry out, 'That's good!' and +unerring instinct told me that orders had come for the ----th to move. +On the third day again we stood in our ranks upon the muddy esplanade of +the Benton Barracks, patiently waiting for the A. A. A. G. and the P. Q. +M. to get through the voluminous correspondence which was to result in +quarters and rations. At least twenty thousand men were crowded at that +time into this dismal quadrangle. Perseverance and patience could +overcome the prevalent impression at the commissary that every new +regiment was a set of unlawful intruders, to be starved out if possible, +but could not conquer the difficulty of crowding material bodies into +less space than they had been created to fill. Two companies had to be +packed into each department intended for one. As for 'field and staff,' +they were worse off than the privates, and took their first useful +lesson in the fact that they were by no means such distinguished +individuals in the large army as they had been when showing off their +new uniforms at home. It must have been comforting to over-sensitive +privates to hear how colonels and quartermasters were snubbed in their +turn by the 'general staff.' The regimental headquarters, where these +crest-fallen dignitaries should have laid their weary heads, were +tenanted by Captains A., who had a pretty wife with him, and B., who +gave such nice little suppers, and C., whose mother was first cousin to +the ugly half-breed that blew the general's trumpet from the roof of the +great house in the centre. Wherefore the colonel, the surgeon, the +chaplain, the quartermaster, and the 'subscriber' were content to spread +their blankets for the first night with a brace of captains, on the +particularly dirty floor of Company F., and dream those 'soldier dreams' +in which Mrs. Soldier and two or three little soldiers--assorted +sizes--run down to the garden gate to welcome the hero home again, while +guardian angels clap their wings in delight and take a receipt for him +as 'delivered in good order and well-conditioned' to the deities that +preside over the domestic altar. + +Such dreams as these were easy matters for most of us, who had no +experience. With our regimental colors fresh from the hands of the two +inevitable young ladies in white, who had presented them (with remarks +suitable to the occasion), we saw nothing before us but a march of +double quick to 'glory or the grave.' Luckily we had cooler heads among +us: men who had fought in Mexico, camped in the gulches of California, +drilled hordes of Indians in South America, led men in desperate +starving marches over the plains. These went about making us comfortable +in a very prosaic, practical way. The first call for volunteers from the +ranks was not to defend a breach or lead a forlorn hope, as we had +naturally expected, but--for carpenters. They were set to knocking down +the clumsy bunks in the men's quarters and rebuilding them in more +convenient shape, piercing the roof for ventilators, building shanties +for the dispensary and the quartermaster's stores. Colonel and chaplain +made a daily tour of the cook rooms and commissary, smelt of meat, +tasted hard bread, dived into dinner pots, examined coffee grounds to +see whether any of the genuine article had accidentally got mixed with +the post supply of burnt peas. The surgeon commenced vaccinating the +men, and taking precautions against every possible malady, old age, I +believe, included. Meanwhile the adjutant and the sergeant-major shut +themselves up in a back room like a counting house, and were kept busy +copying muster rolls, posting huge ledger-like books, making out daily +and nightly returns, receiving and answering elaborate letters from the +official personages in the next building. The company officers and men +were assigned their regular hours for drill, as well as for everything +else that men could think of doing in barracks. In short, we found +ourselves all drawn into the operations of a vast, cumbrous, slow-moving +machine, with a great many more cogs than drivers, through which no +regiment or any other body could pass rapidly. The time required in our +case was nearly three months. + +How much of this delay was necessary or beneficial I leave for wiser +military critics than myself to discuss. The complaint it awakened at +the time has almost been forgotten in the glory of the achievements +which followed when the great army actually began to move. Perhaps it is +remembered only by those who mourn the brave young hearts that never +reached the battle field, but perished in the inglorious conflict with +disease and idleness. Few appreciate the fearful loss suffered from +these causes, unless they were present from day to day, watching the +regular morning reports, or meeting the frequent burial squads that +thronged the road to the cemetery. Even in a place like St. Louis, with +amply provided hospitals, and all the appliances of medical skill at +hand, men died at a rate which would have carried off half the army +before its three years' service expired. And of these deaths by far the +greater portion were the direct consequence of idleness and its +consequent evils in camp. The healthiest body of troops I saw in +Missouri were busy night and day with scouting parties, and living in +their tents upon a bleak hilltop, ten miles from the nearest hospital or +surgeon. When their regiment was concentrated after four months' +service, this company alone marched in the hundred and one men it had +brought from home, not a single man missing or on the sick list. +Perhaps another such instance could scarcely be found in the whole army. + +But it was not by death alone that precious material wasted faster than +a whole series of battles could carry it off. Under such circumstances +the living rot as well as the dead. Physically and morally the men +deteriorate for want of occupation that interests them. Most of our +Western volunteers were farmers' boys, fresh from an active, outdoor +life. They were shut up in the barracks, with no exercise but three or +four hours of monotonous drill, no outdoor life but a lounge over the +level parade ground, and no amusements but cards and the sutler's shop. +Their very comforts were noxious. The warm, close barracks in which they +spent perhaps twenty hours out of the twenty-four, would enervate even a +man trained to sedentary habits; and the abundant rations of hot food, +consumed with the morbid appetite of men who had no other amusement, +rendered them heavy and listless. In our regiment, at least, it was +absolutely necessary to cut down the rations of certain articles, as for +instance of coffee, and to prevent their too frequent use. The cooks +told us that it was not an uncommon thing for a man to consume from four +to six quarts of hot coffee at the three meals of a single day. + +Upon their minds the influence was even greater than upon their bodies. +More enthusiastic soldiers never assembled in the world than came up +from all parts of the country to the various rendezvous of our +volunteers. This is not merely the partial judgment of a fellow +countryman. In conversation with old European officers of great +experience, who had spent the autumn in instructing different regiments, +I have heard testimony to this effect more flattering than anything +which I, as an American, should dare to say. Of course a part of this +enthusiasm was founded on an illusion which experience must sooner or +later have dispelled; but wise policy would have husbanded it as long as +possible, by putting them into service which should at the same time +have fed their love of adventure and given them practice in arms. Even +as a matter of drill--which to some of our officers seems to be the +great end, and not merely the means of a soldier's life--this would have +been an advantage. The drill of a camp of instruction is not only +monotonous, but meaningless, because neither officers nor men are yet +alive to its practical application. Had these men been placed at once +where something _seemed_ to depend on their activity, instruction in +tactics would have been eagerly sought after, instead of being looked +upon as an irksome daily task. Nor would it have been necessary for this +purpose to place raw troops in positions of critical importance. The +vast extent of our line of operations, and the wide tracts of +disaffected country which were, or _might easily have been_, left behind +it, offered an ample field for a training as thorough as the most rigid +martinet could desire, at a safe distance from any enemy in force, but +where they would have been kept under the _qui vive_ by the belief that +something was intrusted to them. Drill or no drill, I do not think there +was a colonel in the barracks who did not know that his men would have +been worth more if marched from the place of enlistment directly into +the open field, than they were after months in a place where the whole +tendency was to chill their patriotism by making them feel useless, and +to wear off the fine edge of their patriotism by subjection to the +merest mechanical process of instruction. + +But without dwelling longer on a subject still so delicate as this, let +it be said that the advantages of the camp of instruction were +principally with the officers. These really learned many things they +needed to know, and perhaps unlearned some that they needed as much to +forget. I have hinted already at one of these latter lessons--that of +their own insignificance. Familiarity breeds contempt, even with +shoulder straps. It did the captains and majors and colonels, each of +whom had been for a time the particular hero of his own village or +county, not a little good to find themselves lost in the crowd, and +quite overshadowed by the stars of the brigadiers. Even these latter did +not look quite so portentous and dazzling when we saw them in whole +constellations, paling their ineffectual rays before the luminary of +headquarters. Many an ambitious youth, who had come from home with very +grand though vague ideas of the personal influence he was to have upon +the country's destinies, found it a wholesome exercise to stand in the +mud at the gate all day as officer of the guard, and touch his hat +obsequiously to the general staff. If there was good stuff in him he +soon got over the first disappointment, and learned to put his shoulder +more heartily to that of his men, when he found that his time was by no +means too valuable to be chiefly spent in very insignificant +employments. Some few, it is true, never could have done this, even if +they had been brayed in a mortar. I remember one fussy little cavalry +adjutant, who never allowed a private to pass him without a salute, or +sit down in his presence. I lost sight of the fellow soon afterward, but +it was with great satisfaction that I saw his name gazetted a week or +two since, 'dismissed the service.' + +As for regular instruction in tactics, there was perhaps as much as the +nature of the case admitted, to wit, none at all. Every now and then a +fine system would be organized, and promulgated in general orders. +Sometimes a series of recitations were prescribed that would have +dismayed a teachers' institute. Field officers were to say their lessons +every evening at headquarters, and head classes from their own line in +the forenoon. The company officers in turn were to teach +non-commissioned ideas how to shoot. Playing truant was strictly +forbidden; careless officers who should 'fail to acquire the lesson set +for them' were to be reported, and, I presume, the unlucky man who +missed a question would have seen 'the next' go above him till the +bright boy of each class had worked his way up to the head. These +systems did _not_ prove a failure: they simply never went at all, but +were quietly and unanimously ignored by teacher and teachee. Every man +was left to thumb his Hardee in private, and find out what he lacked by +his daily blunders on drill. These furnished ample subject for private +study, as well as for animated discussion among the other military +topics that occupied our leisure. Emulation and the fear of ridicule +kept even the most indolent at work. + +It was amusing to see how rapidly the _esprit de corps_--their own +favorite word, which they took infinite pleasure in repeating on all +occasions--grew upon our newly made warriors. How learned they were upon +all the details of 'the service,' and how particularly jealous of the +honors and importance of their own particular 'arm!' I used to listen +with infinite relish to the discussion in our colonel's quarters, which +happened to be a favorite rendezvous for the field officers of some half +dozen different regiments, during the idle hours of the long winter +evenings. No matter how the conversation commenced, it was sure to come +down to this at last, and cavalry, infantry, and artillery blazed away +at each other in a voluble discussion that was like Midshipman Easy's +triangular duel multiplied by six. + +'There's no use talking, colonel, you never have done anything against +us in a fair hand-to-hand fight, and you never can.' + +(_You_ on this occasion may be supposed to be cavalry, personified in a +long, lantern-jawed attorney from Iowa, while _us_ stands for infantry, +represented by an ex-drover from Indiana.) + +'Never done anything, eh?' replies the attorney, who, on the strength of +a commission and mustache of at least six months' date, ranks as quite a +veteran in the party; 'what did you do at Borodino? Pretty show you made +there when we came charging down upon you!' + +'Oh, that was all somebody's fault--what's his name's, you know, that +commanded there. Didn't find those charges work so well at Waterloo, did +you?' Thus the ex-drover, fresh from the perusal of Halleck on Military +Science. + +'Ah, but you see they could not stand our grape and canister,' +interposes artillery (Major Phelim O. Malley, now of the 99th Peoria +Battery, till last month real-estate and insurance broker, No.---- +Dearborn street, basement). + +'If we ploy into a hollow square'-- + +'Yes, but you see we come down obliquely and cut off your corners'-- + +'All they want then is a couple of field pieces; zounds, sir!'--(the +major has found this expletive in Lever's novels, and adopted it as +particularly becoming to a military man.) + +'Echelon--charge--right guides--Buny Visty--Austerlitz'-- + +Meanwhile old Brazos and the Swiss major sit grimly silent, one nursing +his lame shin, where the Mexican bullet struck him, the other drawing +hard on his pipe and puffing out wreaths of smoke that hang like +Linden's 'sulphurous canopy' over the combatants. I have no doubt a +great deal of excellent tactics was displayed in these discussions; +still less, if possible, that the zeal of the disputants was all the +more creditable to them for their peaceful antecedents during their +whole lives; but the ludicrous side of the scene was brought out all the +more strongly by the silence of these old soldiers, who alone out of the +whole party had ever seen what men actually could and did do on the +battle field. + +Sometimes these conversations took a high range, and dwelt upon the +causes and the policy of the contest in which we were engaged. I do not +think, however, that these were half so much talked or thought of among +the officers as in the barracks of the men; and it is only justice to +add, that among a large class of the privates I have heard them +discussed with a clearness, a freedom from all prejudices and present +interests, that surpassed the average deliberations of the shoulder +straps. There never probably was so large an army assembled in the world +where so great a proportion of the intelligence could be found in the +ranks. Marked individual instances were constantly met with. There was +at least one corporal in the ----th, who occupied his leisure hours with +the Greek Testament, that the time spent in fighting for his country +might not be all lost to his education for the ministry. I hope the +noble fellow will preach none the less acceptably without the arm that +he left at Donelson. Another of our non-commissioned officers was a +member of the Iowa Legislature. Could there be a happier illustration of +the fine compliment paid by President Lincoln in his message of last +summer to the rank and file of our army? Pity it must be added that no +representations could procure him a furlough to allow him to take his +seat during the session. Had he been a colonel, with $3,000 a year, the +path would have been wide and smooth that led from his duties in the +camp to his seat in Congress, or any other good place he was lucky +enough to fill. + +This, by the way, is only one instance of the greatest defect in our +volunteer system: the broad and almost impassable gulf of demarcation +between commissioned officers and enlisted men. The character of the +army requires that this should be eradicated as soon as possible. +Enthusiastic patriotism might make men willing to bear with it for a +time, or while the war seemed a temporary affair. But since the +conviction has settled down upon the popular mind that we are in for a +long and tedious struggle, and that a great army of American citizens +must be kept on foot during the whole of it, overshadowing all peaceful +pursuits, and remoulding the whole character of our people, there begins +to be felt also the need of organizing that army as far as possible in +conformity with the genius of our people and Government. The greenest +recruit expects to find in the army a sharp distinction of rank, and a +strict obedience to authority, to which he has been a stranger in +peaceful times. But he is disappointed and discouraged when he finds a +needless barrier erected to divide men into two classes, of which the +smallest retains to itself all the profits and privileges of the +service. He comprehends very well that a captain needs higher pay and +more liberty than a private, and a general than a captain; but he fails +to see the reason why a second lieutenant should have four or five times +the pay of an orderly sergeant, and be officially recognized all through +the army regulations as a gentleman, while he who holds the much more +arduous and responsible office is simply an 'enlisted man,' It will be +much easier for him to discover why this is so than to find any good +reason why it should remain so. We are managing an army of half a +million by the routine intended for one of ten thousand, and we are +organizing citizen volunteers under regulations first created for the +most dissimilar army to be found in the civilized world. We adopted our +army system from England, where there are widely and perpetually +distinct classes of society in peace as well as war; the nobility and +gentry furnishing all the officers, while the ranks are filled up with +the vast crowd, poor and ignorant enough to fight for sixpence a day. To +our little standing army of bygone days the system was well enough +adapted, for in that we too had really two distinct classes of men. West +Point furnished even more officers than we needed, with thorough +education, and the refined and expensive habits that education brings +with it. The ranks were filled with foreigners and broken-down men, who +had neither the ambition nor the ability to rise to anything higher. But +we have changed all that. The healthiest and best blood of our country +is flowing in that country's cause. Our army is composed of more than +half a million citizens, young, eager, ambitious, and trained from +infancy each to believe himself the equal of any man on earth. With the +privates under their command the officers have for the most part been +playmates, schoolmates, associates in business, all through life. A +trifle more of experience or of energy, or the merest accident sometimes +has made one captain, while the other has gone into the ranks; but +unless those men were created over again, you could not make between +them the difference that the army regulations contemplate. Once off +duty, there is nothing left to found it on. + +'I say, Jack,' said an officer at Pittsburg Landing to an old crony who +was serving as private in another company, 'where did you get that +turkey?' + +'Well, cap, I want to know first whether you ask that question as an +officer or as a friend.' + +'As a friend, of course, Jack.' + +'Then it's none of your d---- business, Tom!' + +The difference in pay is not only too great, but is made up in a way +that shows its want of reason. Both have lived on the same fare all +their lives, and the captain knows that it is an absurdity for him to be +drawing the price of four rations a day on the supposition that he has +been luxuriously trained, while in reality he satisfies his appetite +with the same plain dishes served out to his brother in the ranks. He +knows that it is an absurdity for him to receive a large pay in order to +support his family according to their supposed rank, while the private's +wife and children are to be made comfortable out of thirteen dollars a +month; the fact being that Mrs. Captain and Mrs. Private probably live +next door to each other at home, and exchange calls and groceries, and +wear dresses from the same piece, and talk scandal about each other, all +in as neighborly a manner as they have been accustomed to do all their +lives. Indeed, whatever aristocracy of wealth and elegance was growing +up among us has been set back at least a generation by this war, which +has brought out into such prominent notice and elevated so high in our +hearts the rougher merits of the strong arm and the dextrous hand. Every +month sees a larger proportion of officers coming from among those whose +habits have been the reverse of luxury. It is hard to say which would be +more mischievous and absurd: for these to spend their extra pay and +rations in an effort to copy the traditional style of an English +Guardsman, or to keep on in their old way of life, and pocket large +savings that are supposed to be thus spent. + +We need therefore to root out entirely this division of the army into +two classes. Let the scale of rank and pay rise by regular steps from +corporal to general, so that the former may be as much or as little a +'commissioned officer' as his superiors. Abolish all invidious +distinctions by a regular system of promotions from the ranks, and only +from the ranks, except so far as West Point and kindred schools furnish +men educated to commence active service at a higher round of the ladder. +Then we shall have an army into which the best class of our youth can go +as privates without feeling that they have more to dread in their own +camps than on the battle field. + +No doubt there would be an outcry against such a change from those who +have been accustomed to the old system and enjoyed its benefits. This of +itself would be no great obstacle, unless supported by a vague +impression among the people at large that there must be some good reason +for the present state of things, and that civilians had better not +meddle with it. I see them sinking down covered with confusion when some +red-faced old 'regular' bursts out upon them with 'Stuff, sir! What do +_you_ know about military matters?' The best answer to this is, that +other nations, like the French, have set us the example, though by no +means so well provided with intelligent material to draw from in the +ranks; and that in fact England and the United States are about the only +countries in which the evil is allowed to exist. In both of these it has +remained from the fact that the body of the citizens have never been +interested in the rank and file of the army. In this country we have now +an entirely new state of things to provide for; and Yankee ingenuity +must hide its head for shame if a very few years do not give us a +republican army better organized and more efficient than any the world +has yet seen. + + + + +TAMMANY. + + + And at their meeting all with one accord + Cried: 'Down with LINCOLN and Fort Lafayette!' + But while jails stand and some men fear the LORD, + How _can_ ye tell what ye may chance to get? + + + + +IN MEMORIAM. + + In the dim and misty shade of the hazel thicket, + Three soldiers, brave Harry, and Tom with the dauntless eyes, + And light-hearted Charlie, are standing together on picket, + Keeping a faithful watch 'neath the starry skies. + + Silent they stand there, while in the moonlight pale + Their rifle barrels and polished bayonets gleam; + Nought is heard but the owl's low, plaintive wail, + And the soft musical voice of the purling stream; + + Save when in whispering tones they speak to each other + Of the dear ones at home in the Northland far away, + Each leaving with each a message for sister and mother, + If he shall fall in the fight that will come with the day. + + Slowly and silently pass the hours of the night, + The east blushes red, and the stars fade one by one; + The sun has risen, and far away on the right + The booming artillery tells that the fight is begun. + + * * * * * + + 'Steady, boys, steady; now, forward! charge bayonet!' + Onward they sweep with a torrent's resistless might; + With the rebels' life-blood their glittering blades are wet, + And many a patriot falls in the desperate fight. + + The battle is ended--the victory won--but where + Are Harry and Charlie, and Tom with the dauntless eyes, + Who went forth in the morn, so eager to do and to dare?-- + Alas! pale and pulseless they lie 'neath the starry skies. + + Together they stood 'mid the storm of leaden rain, + Together advanced and charged on the traitor knaves, + Together they fell on the battle's bloody plain, + To-morrow together they'll sleep in their lowly graves. + + A father's voice fails as he reads the list of the dead, + And a mother's heart is crushed by the terrible blow; + Yet there's something of pride that gleams through the tears they shed, + Pride, e'en in their grief, that their boys fell facing the foe. + + And though the trumpet of fame shall ne'er tell their story, + Nor towering monument mark the spot where they lie, + Yet round their memory lingers an undying glory: + They gave all they could to their country--they only could die. + + + + +A MERCHANT'S STORY. + +'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.' + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +I found Selma plunged in the deepest grief. The telegram which informed +her of Preston's death was dated three days before (it had been sent to +Goldsboro for transmission, the telegraph lines not then running to +Newbern), and she could not possibly reach the plantation until after +her father's burial; but she insisted on going at once. She would have +his body exhumed; she must take a last look at that face which had never +beamed on her but in love! + +Frank proposed to escort her, but she knew he could not well be spared +from business at that season; and, with a bravery and self-reliance not +common to her years and her sex, she determined to go alone. + +Shortly after my arrival at the house, she retired to her room with +Kate, to make the final arrangements for the journey; and I seated +myself with David, Cragin, and Frank, in the little back parlor, which +the gray-haired old Quaker and his son-in-law had converted into a +smoking room. + +As Cragin was lighting his cigar, I said to him: + +'Have you heard the news?' + +'What news?' + +'The dissolution of Russell, Rollins & Co.' + +'No; there's nothing so good stirring. But you'll hear it some two years +hence.' + +'Read that;' and I handed him the paper which Hallet had signed. + +'What is it, father?' asked Frank, his face alive with interest. + +'Cragin will show it to you, if it ever gets through his hair. I reckon +he's learning to read.' + +'Well, I believe I _can't_ read. What the deuce does it mean?' + +'Just what it says--Frank is free.' + +The young man glanced over the paper. His face expressed surprise, but +he said nothing. + +'Then you've heard how things have been going on?' asked Cragin. + +'No, not a word. I've _seen_ that Hallet was abusing the boy shamefully. +I came on, wanting an excuse to break the copartnership.' + +'Do you know you've done me the greatest service in the world? I told +Hallet, the other day, that we couldn't pull together much longer. He +refused to let me off till our term is up; but I've got him now;' and he +laughed in boyish glee. + +'Of course, the paper releases you as well as Frank. It's a general +dissolution.' + +'Of course it is. How did you manage to get it? Hallet must have been +crazy. He wasn't _John Hallet_, that's certain!' + +'The _genuine_ John, but a _little_ excited.' + +'He must have been. But I'm rid of him, thank the Lord! Come, what do +you say to Frank's going in with me? I'll pack him off to Europe at +once--he can secure most of the old business.' + +'_He_ must decide about that. He can come with me, if he likes. He'll +not go a begging, that's certain. He'll have thirty thousand to start +with.' + +'Thirty thousand!' exclaimed Frank. 'No, father, you can't do that; you +need every dollar you've got.' + +'Yes, I do, and more too. But the money is yours, not mine. You shall +have it to-morrow.' + +'Mine! Where did it come from?' + +'From a relative of yours. But he's modest; he don't want to be known.' +'But I _ought_ to know, I thought I had no relatives.' + +'Well, you haven't--only this one, and he's rich as mud. He gave you the +five thousand; but this is a last instalment--you won't get another red +cent.' + +'I don't feel exactly like taking money in that way.' + +'Pshaw, my boy! I tell you it's yours--rightfully and honestly. You +ought to have more; but he's close-fisted, and you must be content with +this.' + +'Well, Frank,' said Cragin, 'what do you say to hitching horses with me? +I'll give you two fifths, and put a hundred against your thirty. + +'What shall I do?' said Frank to me. + +'You'd better accept. It's more than I can allow you.' + +'Then it's a trade?' asked Cragin. + +'Yes,' said Frank. + +'Well, old gentleman, what do _you_ say--will you move the old stool?' +said Cragin, addressing David. + +'Yes; I like Frank too well to stay with even his father.' + +In the gleeful mood which had taken possession of the old man, the words +slipped from his tongue before he was aware of it. He would have +recalled them on the instant, but it was too late. Cragin caught them, +and exclaimed: + +'His father! Well, that explains some riddles. D--d if I won't call the +new firm Hallet, Cragin & Co. I've got him all around--ha! ha!' + +Frank seemed thunderstruck. Soon he plied me with questions. + +'I can say nothing; I gave my word I would not. David has betrayed it; +let him explain, if he pleases.' + +The old bookkeeper then told the young man his history, revealing +everything but the degradation of his poor mother. Frank walked the +room, struggling with contending emotions. When David concluded, he put +his hand in mine, and spoke a few low words. His voice sounded like his +mother's. It was again _her_ blessing that I heard. + + * * * * * + +Two weeks afterward, the old sign came down from the old warehouse--came +down, after hanging there three quarters of a century, and in its place +went up a black board, on which, emblazoned in glaring gilt letters, +were the two words, + + + 'JOHN HALLET.' + +On the same day, the busy crowd passing up old Long Wharf might have +seen, over a doorway not far distant, a plainer sign. It read: + + 'CRAGIN, MANDELL & Co.' + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +Kate heard frequently from Selma within the first two months after her +departure, but then her letters suddenly ceased. Her last one expressed +the intention of returning to the North during the following week. We +looked for her, but she did not come. Week after week went by, and still +she did not come. Kate wrote, inquiring when we might expect her, but +received no reply. She wrote again and again, and still no answer came. +'Something has happened to her. _Do_ write Mrs. Preston,' said Kate. I +wrote her. She either did not deign to reply, or she did not receive the +letter. + +None of Selma's friends had heard from her for more than three months, +and we were in a state of painful anxiety and uncertainty, when, one +morning, among my letters, I found one addressed to my wife, in Selma's +handwriting. Her previous letters had been mailed at Trenton, but this +was post-marked 'Newbern.' I sent it at once to my house. About an hour +afterward I was surprised by Kate's appearance in the office. Her face +was pale, her manner hurried and excited. She held a small carpet bag in +her hand. + +'You must start at once by the first train. You've not a moment to +spare!' + +'Start where?' + +She handed me the letter. 'Read that.' + +It was hurriedly and nervously written. I read: + + 'MY DEAREST FRIEND: I know _you_ have not forsaken me, but + I have written you, oh! so many times. To-day, Ally has told me + that perhaps our letters are intercepted at the Trenton post + office. It must be so. He takes this to Newbern. Is he not kind? He + has been my faithful friend through all. Though ordered away from + the plantation, he refused to go, and stood by me through the + worst. He whom my own sister so cruelly wronged, has done + everything for me! Whatever may become of me, I shall ever bless + him. + + 'I have not heard from or seen any of my friends. Even my brother + has not answered my letters; but he must be here, on the 17th, at + the sale. That is now my only hope. I shall then be freed from this + misery--worse than death. God bless you! + Your wretched SELMA.' + +'I will go,' was all that I said. Kate sat down, and wept 'Oh! some +terrible thing has befallen her! What can it be?' + +I was giving some hurried directions to my partners, when a telegram was +handed in. It was from Boston, and addressed to me personally. I opened +it, and read: + + 'I have just heard that Selma is a slave. To be sold on the + seventeenth. I can't go. You must. Buy her on my account. Pay any + price. I have written Frank. Let nothing prevent your starting at + once. If your partners should be short while you're away, let them + draw on me. + 'AUGUSTUS CRAGIN.' + +It was then the morning of the twelfth. Making all the connections, and +there being no delay of the trains, I should reach the plantation early +on the seventeenth. + +At twelve o'clock I was on the way. Steam was too slow for my +impatience. I would have harnessed the lightning. + +At last--it was sundown of the sixteenth--the stage drove into Newbern. + +With my carpet bag in my hand, I rushed into the hotel. Four or five +loungers were in the office, and the lazy bartender was mixing drinks +behind the counter. + +'Sir, I want a horse, or a horse and buggy, at once.' + +'A horse? Ye're in a hurry, hain't ye?' + +'Yes.' + +'Wall, I reckon ye'll hev ter git over it. Thar hain't a durned critter +in th' whole place.' + +'I'm in no mood for jesting, sir. I want a horse _at once_. I will +deposit twice his value.' + +'Ye couldn't git nary critter, stranger, ef ye wus made uv gold. They're +all off--off ter Squire Preston's sale.' + +'The sale! Has it begun?' + +'I reckon! Ben a gwine fur two days.' + +My heart sank within me. I was too late! + +'Are all the negroes sold?' + +'No; them comes on ter morrer. He's got a likely gang.' + +I breathed more freely. At this moment a well-dressed gentleman, +followed by a good-looking yellow man, entered the room. He wore spurs, +and was covered with dust. Approaching the counter, he said: + +'Here, you lazy devil--a drink for me and my boy. I'm drier than a +parson--Old Bourbon.' + +As the bartender poured out the liquor, the new comer's eye fell upon +me. His face seemed familiar, but I could not recall it. Scanning me for +a moment, he held out his hand in a free, cordial manner, saying: + +'Ah! Mr. Kirke, is this you? You don't remember me? my name is Gaston.' + +'Mr. Gaston, I'm glad to see you,' I replied, returning his salutation. + +'Have a drink, sir?' + +'Thank you.' I emptied the glass. I was jaded, and had eaten nothing +since morning. 'I'm in pursuit of a horse under difficulties, Mr. +Gaston. Perhaps you can tell me where to get one. I must be at Preston's +to-night.' + +'They're scarcer than hen's teeth round here, just now, I reckon. But +hold on; I go there in the morning. I'll borrow a buggy, and you can +ride up with me.' + +'No, I must be there to-night. How far is it?' + +'Twenty miles.' + +'Well, I'll walk. Landlord, give me supper at once.' + +'_Walk_ there! My dear sir, we don't abuse strangers in these diggin's. +The road is sandier than an Arab desert. You'd never get there afoot. +Tom,' he added, calling to his man, 'give Buster some oats; rub him +down, and have him here in half an hour. Travel, now, like greased +lightning.' Then turning to me, he continued: 'You can have _my_ horse. +He's a spirited fellow, and you'll need to keep an eye on him; but he'll +get you there in two hours.' + +'But how will _you_ get on?' + +'I'll take my boy's, and leave the darky here.' + +'Mr. Gaston, I cannot tell you the service you are doing me.' + +'Don't speak of it, my dear sir. A stranger can have anything of mine +but my wife;' and he laughed pleasantly. + +He went with me into the supper room, and there told me that the sale of +Preston's plantation, furniture, live stock, farm tools, &c., had +occupied the two previous days; and that the negroes were to be put on +the block at nine o'clock the next morning. 'I've got my eye on one or +two of them, that I mean to buy. The niggers will sell well, I reckon.' + +After supper, we strolled again into the bar room. Approaching the +counter, my eye fell on the hotel register, which lay open upon it. I +glanced involuntarily over the book. Among the arrivals of the previous +day, I noticed two recorded in a hand that I at once recognized. The +names were, 'JOHN HALLET, _New Orleans_; JACOB LARKIN, _ditto_.' + +'Are these gentlemen here?' I asked the bartender. + +'No; they left same day the' come.' + +'Where did they go?' + +'Doan't know.' + +In five minutes, with my carpet bag strapped to the pommel of the +saddle, I was bounding up the road to Trenton. + +It was nearly ten o'clock when I sprang from the horse and rang the bell +at the mansion. A light was burning in the library, but the rest of the +house was dark. A negro opened the door. + +'Where is master Joe, or Miss Selly?' + +'In de library, massa. I'll tell dem you'm here.' + +'No; I'll go myself. Look after my horse.' + +I strode through the parlors and the passage way to the old room. Selma +was seated on a lounge by the side of Joe, her head on his shoulder. As +I opened the door, I spoke the two words: 'My child!' + +She looked up, sprang to her feet, and rushed into my arms. + +'And you are safe!' I cried, putting back her soft brown hair, and +kissing her pale, beautiful forehead. + +'Yes, I am safe. My brother is here--I am _safe_.' + +'Joe--God bless you!--you're a noble fellow!' + +He was only twenty-three, but his face was already seamed and haggard, +and his hair thickly streaked with white! We sat down, and from Selma's +lips I learned the events of the preceding months. + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +Selma arrived at home about a week after her father's funeral. The +affairs of the plantation were going on much as usual, but Mrs. Preston +was there in apparently the greatest grief. She seemed inconsolable; +talked much of her loss, and expressed great fears for the future. Her +husband had left no will, and nothing would remain for her but the dower +in the real estate, and that would sell for but little. + +The more Preston's affairs were investigated, the worse they appeared. +He was in debt everywhere. An administrator was appointed, and he +decided that a sale of everything--the two plantations and the +negroes--would be necessary. + +Selma felt little interest in the pecuniary result, but sympathy for her +stepmother induced her to remain at home, week after week, when her +presence there was no longer of service. At last she made preparations +to return; but, as she was on the point of departure, Mrs. +Preston--whose face then wore an expression of triumphant malignity +which chilled Selma's very life-blood--told her that she could not go; +that she was a part of her father's estate, and must remain, and be sold +with the other negroes! + +Dawsey, shortly prior to this, had become a frequent visitor at the +plantation; and, the week before, Phylly had been dreadfully whipped +under his supervision. Selma interceded for her, but could not avert the +punishment. She did not at the time know why it was done, but at last +the reason was revealed to her. + +Among the papers of the first Mrs. Preston, the second wife had found a +bill of sale, by which, in consideration of one gold watch, two diamond +rings, an emerald pin, two gold bracelets, some family plate, and other +jewelry, of the total value of five hundred dollars, General ----, of +Newbern, had conveyed a negro girl called 'Lucy', to Mrs. Lucy Preston, +wife of Robert Preston, Esq. Said girl was described as seven years old, +light complexioned, with long, curly hair, of a golden brown; and the +child of Phyllis, otherwise called Phyllis Preston, then the property of +Jacob Larkin. + +Mrs. Preston inquired of Phyllis what had become of the child. The nurse +denied all knowledge of it; but Selma's age, her peculiar hair, and her +strong resemblance to Rosey, excited the Yankee woman's suspicions, and +she questioned the mother more closely. Phyllis still denied all +knowledge of her child, and, for that denial, was whipped--whipped till +her flesh was cut into shreds, and she fainted from loss of blood. After +the whipping, she was left in an old cabin, to live or die--her mistress +did not care which; and there Ally found her at night, on his return +from his work in the swamp. Wrapping her mangled body in an oiled sheet, +he conveyed her to his cabin. Dinah carefully nursed her, and ere long +she was able to sit up. Then Mrs. Preston told her that, as soon as she +was sufficiently recovered to live through it, she would be again and +again beaten, till she disclosed the fate of the child. + +She still denied all knowledge of it; but, fearing the rage of her +mistress, she sent for her husband, then keeping a small groggery at +Trenton, four miles away. He came and had a conference with Ally and +Dinah about the best way of saving his wife from further abuse. Phyllis +was unable to walk or to ride, therefore flight was out of the question. +Ally proposed that Mulock should oversee his gang for a time while he +remained about home and kept watch over her. None of the negroes could +be induced to whip her in his presence; and if Dawsey or any other white +man attempted it, he was free--he would meet them with their own +weapons. Mulock agreed to this, and the next day went to the swamp. + +Learning of his presence on the plantation, the mistress sent for him, +and, by means of a paltry bribe, induced him to reveal all! Selma +thought he loved Phyllis as much as his brutal nature was capable of +loving, and that he betrayed her to save her mother from further ill +usage. + +The next morning, four strong men entered Ally's cabin before he had +left his bed, bound him hand and foot, and dragged Phyllis away, to be +again whipped for having refused to betray Selma. Unable to stand, she +was tied to a stake, and unmercifully beaten. Weak from the effects of +the previous whipping, and crushed in spirit by anxiety for her child, +nature could no longer sustain her. A fever set in, and, at the end of a +week, she died. + +Selma was told of their relation to each other. The nurse, so devotedly +attached to her, and whom she had so long loved, was her own mother! She +learned this only in time to see her die, and to hear her last blessing. + +Then Selma experienced all the bitterness of slavery. She was set at +work in the kitchen with the other slaves. It seemed that Mrs. Preston +took especial delight in assigning to the naturally high-spirited and +sensitive girl the most menial employments. Patiently trusting in God +that He would send deliverance, she endeavored to perform, +uncomplainingly, her allotted tasks. Wholly unaccustomed to such work, +weary in body and sick at heart, she dragged herself about from day to +day, till at last Mrs. Preston, disgusted with her 'laziness,' as she +termed it, directed her to be taken to the quarters and beaten with +fifty lashes! + +Ally had been ordered away by the mistress, and that morning had gone to +Trenton to consult the administrator, and get his permission to stay on +the plantation. That gentleman--a kind-hearted, upright man--not only +told him he could remain, but gave him a written order to take and keep +Selma in his custody. + +He returned at night, to find she had been whipped. His blood boiling +with rage, he entered the mansion, and demanded to see her. Mrs. Preston +declined. He then gave her the order of the administrator. She tore it +into fragments, and bade him leave the house. He refused to go without +Selma, and quietly seated himself on the sofa. Mrs. Preston then called +in ten or twelve of the field hands, and told them to eject him. They +either would not or dared not do it; and, without more delay, he +proceeded to search for Selma. At last he found her apartment. He burst +open the door, and saw her lying on a low, miserable bed, writhing in +agony from her wounds. Throwing a blanket over her, he lifted her in his +arms, and carried her to his cabin. Dinah carefully attended her, and +that night she thanked God, and--slept. + +The next morning, before the sun was fully up, Dawsey and three other +white men, heavily armed, came to the cabin, and demanded admittance. +Ally refused, and barricaded the door. They finally stealthily effected +an entrance through a window in the kitchen, and, breaking down the +communication with the 'living room,' in which apartment the mulatto man +and his mother were, they rushed in upon them. Ally, the previous day, +had procured a couple of revolvers at Trenton, and Dinah and he, +planting themselves before the door of old Deborah's room, in which +Selma was sleeping, pointed the weapons at the intruders. The assailants +paused, when Dawsey shouted out: 'Are you afraid of two d--d +niggers--and one a woman!' Aiming his pistol at Ally, he fired. The ball +struck the negro's left arm. Discharging two or three barrels at them, +the old woman and her son then rushed upon the white men, and they FLED! +all but one--he remained; for Dinah caught him in a loving embrace, and +pummelled him until he might have been mistaken for calves-foot jelly. + +Ally then sent a messenger to the administrator, who rode over in the +afternoon, and took Selma to his own house. There she remained till her +brother reached the plantation--three days before my arrival. + +As soon as she was safely at Trenton, Selma wrote to her friends, +mailing the letters at that post office. She received no answers. Again +and again she wrote; the administrator also wrote, but still no replies +came. At last Ally suggested mailing the letters at Newbern, and rode +down with one to Joe, one to Alice, and one to Kate. + +Her brother came on at once. In the first ebullition of his anger he +ejected his stepmother from the mansion. She went to Dawsey's, and, the +next day, appeared at the sale with that gentleman; and then announced +that for two months she had been the woman-whipper's wife. + +Dawsey had bought the plantation, and most of the furniture, the day +before, and had said he intended to buy all of the 'prime' negroes. + +As Selma concluded, Joe quietly remarked: + +'He'll be disappointed in that. I allowed him the plantation and +furniture, because I've no use for them; but I made him pay more than +they are worth. The avails will help me through with father's debts; but +not a single hand shall go into his clutches, I shall buy them myself.' + +'What will you do with them?' + +'I have bought a plantation near Mobile. I shall put them upon it. Joe +will manage them, and I'll live there with Selly.' + +'You're a splendid fellow, Joe. But it seems a pity that woman should +profane your father's house.' + +'Oh! there's no danger of that. I've engaged 'furnished apartments' for +her elsewhere.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'The sheriff is asleep up stairs. He has a warrant against her for the +murder of Phyllis. When she comes here in the morning, it will be +served!' + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +The next morning I rose early, and strolled out to the negro quarters. +At the distance of about a hundred yards from the mansion, the sun was +touching the tops of about thirty canvas camps, and, near them, large +numbers of horses, 'all saddled and bridled,' were picketed among the +trees. Some dozens of 'natives' were littered around, asleep on the +ground; and here and there a barelegged, barefooted woman was lying +beside a man on a 'spring' mattress, of the kind that is supposed to +have been patented in Paradise. + +It was a beautiful morning in May, and one would have thought, from the +appearance of the motley collection, that the whole people had 'come up +to worship the Lord in their tents,' after the manner of the Israelites. +The rich planter, the small farmer, the 'white trash'--all classes, had +gathered to the negro sale, like crows to a feast of carrion. + +A few half-awake, half-sober, russet-clad, bewhiskered 'gentry' were +lighting fires under huge iron pots; but the larger portion of the +'congregation' was still wrapped in slumber. + +Passing them, I knocked at the door of Ally's cabin. The family was +already astir, and the various members gave me a greeting that cannot be +_bought_ now anywhere with a handful of 'greenbacks.' Boss Joe, Aggy, +and old Deborah had arrived, and were quartered with Ally. + +'An' 'ou wusn't a gwine ter leff massa Preston's own chile be sole +widout bein' yere; wus 'ou, massa Kirke?' cried Dinah, her face beaming +all over with pleasurable emotion. + +'No, Dinah; and I've come here so early to tell you how much I think of +_you_. A woman that can handle four white men as you did is fit to head +an army.' + +'Lor' bress 'ou, massa! dat wusn't nuffin'. I could handle a whole +meetin'-house full ob sech as dem.' + +'Joe, you know your master's plans, I suppose?' + +'Yas, massa Kirke; he mean ter buy all de folks.' + +'But can he raise money enough for the whole?' + +'I reckon so. Massa Joe got a heap.' + +'But don't you want to borrow some to help out your pile?' + +'I'se 'bliged ter you, sar; but I reckon I doan't. I'se got nigh on ter +free thousan', an' nary one'll pay more'n dat fur a ole man an' two ole +wimmin.' + +'I hope not.' + +I remained there for a half hour, and then strolled back to the mansion. +On the lawn, at the side of the house, was the auction block--the +carpenter's bench which had officiated at Ally's wedding. It was +approached by a flight of steps, and at one end was the salesman's +stand--a high stool, in front of which was a small portable desk +supported on stakes driven into the ground. Near the block was a booth +fitted up for the special accommodation of thirsty buyers. The +proprietor was just opening his own and his establishment's windows, and +I looked in upon him. His red, bloated visage seemed familiar to me. +Perceiving me, he said: + +'How is ye, stranger? Hev a eye-opener?' + +'I reckon not, old fellow; but I ought to know you. Your name is Tom.' + +'Thomas, stranger; but Tom, fur short.' + +'Well, Thomas, I thought you had taken your last drink. I saw your store +was closed, as I came along.' + +'Yas; th' durned 'ristocrats driv me out uv thet nigh a yar ago.' + +'And where are you now?' + +'Up ter Trenton. I'm doin' right smart thar. Me an' Mulock--thet used +ter b'long yere--is in partenship. But war moight ye hev seed me, +stranger?' + +'At your store, over ten years since. I bought a woman there. You were +having a turkey match at the time.' + +'Oh, yas! I 'call ye now. An' th' pore gal's dead! Thet d--d Yankee +'ooman shud pull hemp fur thet.' + +'Yes; but the devil seldom gets his due in this world.' + +'Thet ar's a fact, stranger. Come, hev a drink; I woan't ax ye a red.' + +'No, excuse me, Tom; it's before breakfast;' and, walking off, I entered +the mansion. + + * * * * * + +Shortly after breakfast the people from the neighboring plantations +began to gather to the sale, and, by the hour appointed for it to +commence, about five hundred men and women had collected on the ground. +Some were on horseback, some in carriages, but the majority were seated +on the grass, or on benches improvised for the occasion. + +A few minutes before the 'exercises' commenced, the negroes were marched +upon the lawn. No seats had been provided for them, and they huddled +together inside a small area staked off for their reception. They were +of all colors and ages. Husbands and wives, parents and children, +grandparents and grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and cousins, gathered in +little family groups, and breathlessly awaited the stroke of the hammer +which was to decide their destiny. They were all clad in their Sunday +clothes, and looked clean and tidy; but on every face except Joe's was +depicted an ill-defined feeling of dread and consternation. Husbands +held their wives in their arms, and mothers hugged their children to +their bosoms, as if they might soon part forever; but when old Joe +passed among them, saying a low word to this one and the other, their +cloudy visages brightened, and a heavy load seemed to roll off their +hearts. Joe was as radiant as a summer morning, and walked about with a +quiet dignity and unconcern that might have led one to think him the +owner of the entire 'invoice of chattels.' + +As the auctioneer--a spruce importation from Newbern--mounted the bench, +a splendid carriage, drawn by two magnificent grays, and driven by a +darky in livery, made its way through the crowd, and drew up opposite +the stand. In it were Dawsey and his wife! + +The salesman's hammer came down. 'Gentlemen and ladies,' he said, 'the +sale has commenced. I am about to offer you one hundred and sixty-one +likely negro men and women, belonging to the estate of Robert Preston, +Esq., deceased. Each one will be particularly described when put up, and +all will be warranted as represented. They will be sold in families; +that is, husbands and wives, and parents and young children, will not be +separated. The terms are, one quarter cash, the balance in one year, +secured by an approved indorsed note. Persons having claims against the +estate will be allowed to pay by authenticated accounts and duebills. +The first lot I shall offer you will be the mulatto man Joe and his wife +Agnes. Joe is known through all this region as a negro of uncommon worth +and intelligence. He is'-- + +Here he was interrupted by Dawsey, who exclaimed, in a hurried manner: + +'I came here expecting this sale would be conducted according to +custom--that each hand would be put up separately. I protest against +this innovation, Mr. Auctioneer.' + +The auctioneer made no reply; but the administrator, a small, +self-possessed man, mounted the bench, and said: + +'Sir, _I_ regulate this sale. If you are not satisfied with its +conditions, you are not obliged to bid.' + +Dawsey made a passionate reply. In the midst of it, Joe sprang upon the +stand, and, in a clear, determined voice, called out: + +'Mr. Sheriff, do your duty.' + +A large, powerful man, in blue coat and brass buttons, stepped to the +side of the carriage, and coolly opening the door, said: + +'Catharine Dawsey, you are charged with aiding and abetting in the +murder of Phyllis Preston. I arrest you. Please come with me.' + +'By ----, sir!' cried Dawsey; 'this lady is my wife!' + +'It makes no difference whose wife she is, sir. She is my prisoner.' + +'She must not be touched by you, or any other man!' yelled Dawsey, +drawing his pistol. Before he could fire, he rolled on the ground, +insensible. The sheriff had struck him a quick blow on the head with a +heavy cane. + +As her husband fell, Mrs. Dawsey sprang upon the driver's seat, and, +seizing the reins from the astonished negro, applied the lash to the +horses. They reared and started. The panic-stricken crowd parted, like +waves in a storm, and the spirited animals bounded swiftly down the +avenue. They had nearly reached the cluster of liveoaks which borders +the small lake, when a man sprang at their heads. He missed them, fell, +and the carriage passed over him; but the horses shied from the road +into the trees, and in an instant the splendid vehicle was a mass of +fragments, and Mrs. Dawsey and the negro were sprawling on the ground. + +The lady was taken up senseless, and badly hurt, but breathing. The +driver was dead! + +The crowd hurried across the green to the scene of disaster. Joe and I +reached the man in the road at the same instant. It was Ally! We took +him up, bore him to the edge of the pond, and bathed his forehead with +water. In a few minutes he opened his eyes. + +'Are you much hurt, Ally?' asked Joe, with almost breathless eagerness. + +'I reckon not, massa Joe,' said Ally; 'my head, yere, am sore, an' dis +ankle p'raps am broke. Leff me see;' and he rose to his feet, and tried +his leg. 'No, massa Joe; it'm sound's a pine knot. I hain't done fur +_dis_ time.' + +'Thank God!' exclaimed Joe, with an indescribable expression of relief. + +Mrs. Dawsey was borne to the mansion, the negro carried off to the +quarters, and, in a few moments, the crowd once more gathered around the +auctioneer's stand. Dawsey, by this time recovered from the sheriff's +blow, was cursing and swearing terribly over the disaster of his wife +and--his property. + +'Twenty-five hundred dollars gone at a blow! D--n the woman; didn't she +know better than that?' + +As he followed his wife into the house, the sheriff said to the +administrator, who was a justice of the peace: + +'Make me out a warrant for that man--obstructing the execution of the +law.' + +The warrant was soon made out, and in fifteen minutes, Dawsey, raving +like a wild animal, was driven off to jail at Trenton. Mrs. Dawsey, too +much injured to be removed, was left under guard at the mansion, and the +sale proceeded. + +Boss Joe and Aggy ascended the block, and 'Master Joe' took a stand +beside them. + +'How much is said for these prime negroes?' cried the auctioneer. +Everybody knows what they are, and there's no use preaching a sermon +over them. Boss Joe might do that, but _I_ can't. He can preach equal to +any white man you ever hard. Come, gentlemen, start a bid. How much do +you say?' + +'A thousand,' said a voice in the crowd. + +'Eleven hundred,' cried another. + +'It's a d--d shame to bid on them, gentlemen. Boss Joe has been saving +money to buy himself; and I think no white man should bid against him,' +cried a man at my elbow. + +It was Gaston, who had just arrived on the ground. + +'Thet's a fact.' 'Them's my sentiments.' 'D--n th' man thet'll bid agin +a nigger.' 'Thet's so, Gaston,' echoed from all directions. + +'But I yere th' darky's got a pile--some two thousan'; _thet_ gwoes +'long with him, uv course,' yelled one of the crowd. + +'Of course it don't!' said young Joe, from the stand. 'He's saved about +three thousand out of a commission his master allowed him; but he _gave_ +that _to me_, long before my father died. It is _mine_--not _his_. I bid +twelve hundred for him and his wife; and I will say to the audience, +that I shall advance on whatever sum may be offered for them. So fire +away, gentlemen; I ask no favors.' + +'Is there any more bid for this excellent couple?' cried the auctioneer. +'It is my duty to cry them, and to tell you they're worth twice that +money.' + +There was no more bid, and Boss Joe and Aggy were struck down at twelve +hundred dollars--about two thirds their market value. + +'Now, gentlemen, we will offer you the old negress, Deborah, the mother +of Joe. Bring her forward!' cried the man of the hammer. + +Four strong negroes lifted the chair of the aged African, and bore her +to the block. When the strange vehicle reached the steps, young Preston +steadied it into its appropriate position, and then took a stand beside +it. + +'This aged lady, gentlemen, is warranted over eighty; she may be a +hundred. She can't walk, but she can pray and sing to kill. How much is +bid for all this piety done up in black crape?' cried the auctioneer, +smiling complacently, as if conscious of saying a witty thing. + +Joe turned on him quickly. 'Sir, you are employed to _sell_ these +people, not to sport with their feelings. Let me hear no more of this.' + +'No offence, Mr. Preston. Gentlemen, how much is bid for old Deborah?' + +'Five dollars,' said young Preston. + +The old negress, who sat nearly double, straightened up her bent form, +and, looking at Joe with a sad, pleading expression, exclaimed: + +'Oh, massa Joe! ole nussy'm wuth more'n dat. 'Ou woan't leff har be sole +fur no sech money as dat, will 'ou, massa Joe?' + +'No aunty; not if you want to bring more. I'd give your weight in gold +for you;' and, turning to the auctioneer, he said: 'A hundred dollars is +my bid, sir.' + +'Bress 'ou, massa Joe! bress 'ou! 'Ou'm my own dear, bressed chile!' +exclaimed the old negress, clutching at his hand, and, with a sudden +effort, rising to her feet. She stood thus for a moment, then she +staggered back, fell into her chair, uttered a low moan, and--was FREE! + +A wild excitement followed, during which the body was borne off. It was +a full half hour before quiet was restored and the sale resumed. Then +about twenty negroes, of both sexes, were put up singly. All of them +were bought by Joe, except a young woman, whose husband belonged to +Gaston. The bidding on her was spirited, and she was run up to ten +hundred and fifty dollars. As Gaston bid that sum, he jumped upon a +bench, and called out: + +'Gentlemen, I can stand this as long as you can. I mean to have this +woman, anyhow.' + +No one offered more, and 'the lot' was struck off to Gaston. Joe did not +bid on her at all. + +When the next negro ascended the stand, Joe beckoned to me, and said: + +'Selly is next on the catalogue. Will you bring her here?' + +As I entered the mansion, she met me. Her face was pale, and there was a +nervous twitching about her mouth, but she quietly said: + +'You have come for me?' + +'Yes, my child. Have courage; it will soon be over.' + +She laid her head upon my shoulder for a moment; then, turning her +large, clear, but tearless eyes up to mine, she said: + +'I trust in GOD!' + +I took her arm in mine, and walked out to the stand. The auctioneer was +waiting for her, and we ascended the block together. A slight tremor +passed over her frame as she met the sea of upturned faces, all eagerly +gazing at her; and, putting my arm about her, I whispered: + +'Do not fear. Lean on me.' + +'I do not fear,' was the low reply. + +'Now, gentlemen,' cried the auctioneer, in an unfeeling, business-like +way, 'I offer you the girl, Lucy Selma. She is seventeen years old; in +good health; well brought up--a superior lot every way. She has recently +been employed at cooking, but, as you see, is better adapted to lighter +work. How much shall I have for her? Come, bid fast gentlemen; we are +taking up too much time.' + +Before any response could be made to this appeal, Joe stepped to the +side of Selma, and, in a slow, deliberate voice, said: + +'Gentlemen, allow me a few words. This young lady is my sister. I have +always supposed--she has always supposed that she was the legitimate +child of my father. She was not. My mother bought her when she was very +young; gave her jewels--all she had--for her, and adopted her as her own +child. The law does not allow a married woman to hold separate property, +and Selma is therefore inventoried in my father's estate, and must be +sold. Rightfully she belongs to me! She has been delicately and tenderly +reared, and is totally unfitted for any of the usual work of slave +women. Her value for such purposes is very little. I shall bid a +thousand dollars for her, which is more than she is worth for any honest +use. If any man bids more, it is HIS LIFE OR MINE _before he leaves the +ground!_' + +A breathless silence fell on the assemblage. It lasted for a few +moments, when Gaston called out: + +'Come, Joe, this isn't fair. You've no right to interfere with the sale. +I came here prepared to go twenty-five hundred for her myself.' + +In a firm but moderate tone, the young man replied: + +'I intend no disrespect to you, Mr. Gaston, or to any gentleman +present; but I mean what I say. I shall stand by my words!' + +'Come, youngster, none uv yer brow-beatin' yere. It woan't gwo down,' +cried a rough voice from among the audience. 'I've come all th' way from +Orleans ter buy thet gal; an' buy har I shill!' + +Quite a commotion followed this speech. It lasted some minutes, and the +speaker was the object of considerable attention. + +'He's some on th' trigger, ole feller,' cried one. 'He kin hit a +turkey's eye at two hundred paces, he kin,' said another. 'He'll burn +yer in'ards, shore,' shouted a third. 'Ye'll speak fur warm lodgin's, ef +ye bid on thet gal, ye wull,' cried a fourth. + +'Come, my friends, ye karn't skeer me,' coolly said the first speaker, +mounting one of the rough benches. 'I've h'ard sech talk afore. It +doan't turn _me_ a hair. I come yere ter buy thet gal, an' buy har I +shill, 'cept some on ye kin gwo higher'n my pile; an' my pile ar +_eighty-two hundred dollars_!' + +He was a tall, stoutly-built man, with bushy gray whiskers and a clear, +resolute eye. It was Larkin! + +Turning to Joe, I exclaimed: + +'I understand this. Get the auctioneer to postpone the sale for half an +hour for dinner. Take Selly into the house.' + +'No. It might as well be over first as last. Let him bid--he's a dead +man!' replied Joe coolly, but firmly. + +'You're mad, boy. Would you take his life needlessly?' + +The auctioneer, who overheard these remarks, then said to me: + +'I will adjourn the sale, sir;' and, turning to the audience, he cried, +drawing out his watch: 'Gentlemen, it is twelve o'clock. The sale is +adjourned for an hour, to give you a chance for dinner.' + + + + +SHYLOCK vs. ANTONIO. + +OPINION OF THE VICAR. + + +The Vicar desires briefly, modestly, and by way of suggestion, rather as +Amicus Curiæ than as an advocate, to lay before his learned brethren of +the law a legal point or two, for their consideration. + +The case to which I refer is well known to all the members of the bar as +that of Shylock--_versus_ Antonio, reported, in full, in 2 Shakspeare +299. The decision which I am desirous of having reviewed, is that of the +Chief Justice, or Ducal Magistrate, who heard that curious case, and who +yielded to the extraordinary arguments of the young woman, Portia. The +judgment rendered, and the argument or decision of the Lady Advocate, on +that occasion, have been regarded as models of judicial acumen, have +received the approbation of many worthy and enlightened students, and, +when theatrically represented, have been greeted with the plaudits of +nearly every theatre. It may be arrogant to impugn a judicial decision +of such antiquity and acknowledged authority; but, as a member in full +standing of the worshipful P. B., I have the right to be slightly +arrogant; for I am well aware that this is a tribunal the circumference +of whose jurisdiction is infinite, or rather is a circle whose centre is +a little village on the Hudson river, where I reside. + +No false modesty shall restrain me, therefore, from discussing this case +upon its merits. Before entering upon it, however, I desire to call your +attention to a few preliminary points. + +In the first place, I ask you--who are all familiar with the record--if +an undue sympathy for the defendant, Antonio, was not felt on the trial? +The favor and good wishes of the court, the spectators, and of the +reporter, were evidently enlisted for him as against his opponent. This +Antonio, perhaps, was a very worthy fellow in his way; and in a criminal +action--as on an indictment for murdering a family or two, or +slaughtering a policeman--might have been, able to prove previous good +character. But such a plea, in a civil action for _debt_, is entitled to +no weight, while the fact that he was a good fellow in a series of +scrapes, not the least of which was matrimony, does not entitle him to +our sympathy. The prejudices of the court ought to have been against +instead of for him. He had failed in business, could not pay his +outstanding liabilities, and thus stood before the commercial world in +the position of bankruptcy. The fact that he had made a foolish +contract, which imperilled his life, does not improve his moral +condition, or entitle him to any just sympathy, unless it could be shown +that there was insanity in his family. No such plea was entered. His +counsel did not attempt to prove that his great-grandfather owned a mad +dog; a plea from which the court, fortified by many modern criminal +decisions, might have inferred his moral insanity. No such attempt to +relieve Antonio from the consequences of his criminal folly was made, +and I can see nothing in the case to entitle him to the sympathy which +was and had been always entertained for him. + +Again: The lengthy and much-admired plea of the defendant's counsel on +the subject of mercy was clearly out of place, especially if, as I have +endeavored to show, the defendant was not entitled to any particular +clemency or sympathy. The remarks of Portia, commencing, + + 'The quality of Mercy is not strained,' + +(and, by the way, who but a woman would talk of straining an emotion as +one strains milk?) are wholly irrelevant to the issue, and ought not to +have been allowed. They were eloquent, indeed, but had nothing whatever +to do with _the trial_, which arose on a very plain case at law: A owed +B three thousand ducats, due and not paid on an ascertained day. +Whereupon B moves the court for the penalty, and demands judgment. If +the defendant had no answer at law, there is an end to the case; and it +was very irregular, impertinent, and contrary to well-settled practice +for the defendant's counsel to endeavor to lead off the mind of the +court from the true issue of the case. Portia, in what she says of mercy +being 'twice blessed' and 'dropping like the gentle rain from heaven,' +&c., &c., was, I fear, 'talking buncombe,' and all that part of her +speech should be stricken from the record, especially as it was +addressed to the plaintiff instead of the court, a highly indecorous +proceeding. Instead of indulging in all this sentimentality, her true +course would have been to have filed a bill in equity against Shylock, +and have obtained an injunction on an _ex parte_ affidavit, which only +requires a little strong swearing; or to have patched up a suit against +him for obtaining his knife under false pretences; than which (under the +New York code of procedure) nothing can be easier. But what better +conduct of a suit can you expect from a she-advocate--an +attorney-in-petticoats? + +And this brings me to another point of some delicacy, and which nothing +but a conscientious devotion to abstract justice would induce me to +touch upon. What law, or what precedent, can be cited to authorize a +woman to appear as an advocate in a court of justice and usurp the +offices and prerogatives of a man? I will not dwell upon the impropriety +of such conduct; but on my honor, as a member of the bar, the behavior +of Portia was outrageous. This young female, not content with +'cavorting' around the country in a loose and perspicuous style, +actually practises a gross swindle on the court. She assumes to be a man +when she is only a woman, dons the breeches when she is only entitled to +the skirts, and imposes herself upon the Duke of Venice as a learned +young advocate from Rome, when in fact she is only a young damsel of +Belmont, with half a dozen lovers on hand, on her own showing. And yet +this young baggage, whose own father would not trust her to choose a +husband, whose brains are addled by her own love affairs, and who had no +more business in court than the deacon would have in Chancellor +Whiting's suit in the Lowber claim, not only came into court under a +fraudulent disguise, argued the case under false pretences, but actually +took the words from the judge's own mouth, and decided her case on her +own responsibility. I venture to say that such unparalleled impudence +was never witnessed out of the court of a justice of the peace, and that +even Judge ---- (unless the editor of the ---- had interfered) would have +marched this false pretender out of court, or have deposited her in the +Tombs on an attachment of contempt. + +But these preliminary points appear of small moment when we come to +consider the plea, if it be worthy of that name, which the counsel for +the defendant opposed to the suit of the plaintiff. The bond is +admitted, the penalty is confessed, the pound of flesh is forfeited, the +bosom of Antonio is bared to the knife--when this brief but brief-less +barrister, this skylarking young judge of Belmont steps jauntily +forward, with a most preposterous quibble on her lips, and manages by an +adroit subtlety to defeat the judgment to which the plaintiff is legally +entitled. She awards the flesh, fibres, nerves, adipose matter, in +controversy, to Shylock; but declares his life and fortune confiscate if +he sheds a drop of blood, or takes more or less than the exact pound. + +Now if there be one principle of law better settled than another (and +probably it was as clearly set forth in the Revised Statutes of Venice +as is set forth in our own common law), it is that a party entitled to +the possession of a commodity, whether grain, guano, dead or live men's +flesh, bones and sinews, is entitled, also, to pursue the usual +necessary and appropriate means of obtaining the possession of the same. +I appeal to Colonel W---- if this be not good law, and asking whether, +if he be entitled to a dinner, he has not a right to seize upon it, +whenever or however he can find it; whether, if a man owes him a bottle +of champagne, he has not the right to break the neck of the bottle if a +corkscrew is not convenient? So, to use a drier example, the sale of +standing timber entitles the purchaser to enter the land upon which it +is situated, and to cut down and carry off his own property. On the same +principle, if A sells B a house and lot, entirely surrounded by other +land owned by A, B has clearly a right of way to his own wife and +fireside over A's land. (2 Blackstone 1149.) A hundred examples might be +given in point, but it would be insulting the dignity of this court to +argue at length a theory so transparently clear. If the shedding of a +few drops of blood, more or less, was incidental and necessary to the +rights of the plaintiff, if the article of personal property, forfeited +to him on the bond, could be obtained in no other way, then, according +to all the principles of law and common sense, he _had_ a right to spill +those drops, more or less; and that, too, without legal risk. + +If the penalty was legal, and that were admitted, the method of exacting +it was legal also. Portia's quibble was so transparent and barefaced +that the decision of the court can only be explained on the theory that +the court was drunk, or in love, which seems to have been the condition +of several of the prominent parties in this proceeding, excepting always +the plaintiff. As to the other part of Portia's plea, it is doubtless +true that the plaintiff would take more of the commodity involved in the +suit than the court awarded him at his peril; but as half a pound, or a +quarter of a pound, cut off from the right spot would have answered his +purpose, I do not see under what principle of law he was defrauded of +that satisfaction. There was nothing to have prevented him from cutting +less than a pound from Antonio's body, and of so releasing him, the +defendant, from a portion of the penalty; and the court should have +instructed the plaintiff as to his rights in this particular, instead of +adopting a quibble worthy of only a Tombs lawyer or a third-rate +pettifogger. + +I cannot then believe that Mr. Reporter Shakspeare, in handing down to +posterity the record of this remarkable case, meant to express an +approval of Portia's subterfuge. My inference rather is that he was +aiming a covert sarcasm at those women who thrust themselves +conspicuously upon the notice of the public, and that he meant to hint +that those who thus unsex themselves often make a showy appearance +without displaying much solid merit. If this subtle, sharp, and +strong-minded female did not turn out to be something of a shrew, before +her husband was done with her, I am much mistaken. Possibly, however, +Shakspeare's sarcasm might bear a more general interpretation, and +implies that women in an argument seldom meet the true issue presented +to them, but are prone to go off at a tangent on some side quibble, and +to repel the arguments of their antagonists by the subtlety of their +inventions rather than by the cogency of their logic. I appeal to my +friend, the sage of Cattaraugus, who has a large knowledge of the +customs of the sex, if this be not the usual result. + +Not to cut the reply of the deacon too short, I go on to remark that +whether he agrees with me or not, neither he nor any other well-balanced +man would have descended, on the trial of so important a case as the one +we are discussing, to a trivial playing upon words. Even my friend, the +district attorney, than whom no man is more remorselessly given--in +private life--to the depraved habit of quibbling, and who never +hesitates to impale truth upon the point of a verbal criticism, would by +the temptation of a fee commensurate with the vigor of the moral effort +required, have discussed the question on broader and truer principles. +Had he been retained on the part of Antonio, he would have proved +himself equal to the occasion, and have unfolded a logical and +consistent answer to the claim of the plaintiff. + +He would have boldly attacked the bond itself, as absolutely void in its +inception, because it was aimed at the life of a citizen of Venice, and +would have called upon the court to abrogate a contract which violated +the very laws that the court was bound to administer. With his usual +eloquence, he would have urged that a penalty so illegal, immoral, and +monstrous, and which involved the commission of the highest crime, +except treason, known to the laws of the state, could never be enforced +in a civilized country. He would have offered to the court no woman's +quibble like that of Portia, based upon the assumption that the penalty +of a bond which sanctioned a high and capital crime could be enforced in +a court of law; and in fine, would have addressed an argument to the +reason and understanding of the court which might render a consideration +of this case by the tribunal unnecessary. + +But no good plea to the plaintiff's cause of action was made on the +trial, and the court was, and I fear that the whole world has been +deceived by Portia's subterfuge. We must, therefore, regard Shylock as a +badly used man. After all, he was no worse than many creditors and note +shavers of this day, who _only_ demand the life blood of their victims, +and if on the pleas before the court he was entitled to judgment, like +them he should have had it. Doubtless in private life Shylock was a very +honest and well-behaved gentleman, not a mere mountebank as he is +sometimes represented on the stage, but a vigorous and energetic man of +the world, shrewd, sagacious, and long sighted in business, honored on +change, respected by his friends, and a pattern of prudence and +morality. And then, perhaps, he was only carrying on a joke, a kind of +_Jew d'esprit_, conceived in a moment of amiable eccentricity, and never +to be executed. If not a joke, however, the judgment of Judge Portia +should be set aside, and a new trial, with costs, should, in my opinion, +have been ordered. + + + + +A HEROINE OF TO-DAY. + + +We had watched with her alternate nights throughout all her illness, but +this night we thought would be her last, and neither of us was willing +to leave her. The surgeons and nurses had gone, and we were at last +alone. We sat through the remaining hours in deathly stillness, +occasionally moistening the lips and tongue of the sufferer. It was the +last office of friendship, and I yielded it, though reluctantly, to her +earliest and dearest friend. Monotonous the hours were, but not long. We +would have made them longer if we could, for though the waning life +before us was but the faintest shadow of the life we had companioned +with, we were loath to lose it--to face the blank that would be left +when it was gone. + +One, two, three o'clock sounded, and still no perceptible change; but +soon after the breathing became shorter, a slight film gathered on her +eyes, and we stood in the presence of the last great mystery. Shorter +and shorter grew the breath, deeper and deeper the film, till, just as +the first gray light showed itself in the eastern horizon, came the last +sigh, and Mrs. Simmons, leaning forward, exclaimed in a low voice, 'It +is over.' As for me, I buried my face in the pillow and wept +unrestrainedly. + +In a hospital the day treads closely on the night, and soon the morning +came. We retired to our apartment for rest, but we could not sleep. We +could only think of our loss, and after an hour or two we rose, somewhat +rested, but not refreshed. Ever since my first acquaintance with +Laetitia Sunderland, I had eagerly desired to learn her previous life. +Glimpses of it I had obtained, but I wanted it as a whole, and now I was +with one, perhaps for the last time, who could give me a full account of +it. It was an opportunity not to be lost, and while partaking of our +morning coffee, I asked Mrs. Simmons if she would tell me what I so +longed to know. She willingly assented, and as I was relieved from duty +for the day, and the morning was mild and beautiful, we sought a rustic +seat in the garden, and there in a little nook retired from view, I +heard the story of that life to which my own during the past year had +been so closely knit. + +'There is one thing,' said Mrs. Simmons, 'in regard to our friend, to +which we have never alluded, and which, perhaps, you would rather have +me now pass over; but on that very thing her whole character and history +turn, and to omit it would leave nothing worth the telling--I mean her +personal appearance. + +'When I was a child, my parents moved into the suburbs of Condar, and as +there were no houses between ours and Mr. Sunderland's, the two families +soon became well acquainted. On the day that I was ten years old, my +mother told me there was a baby girl at Mrs. Sunderland's, and said she +would take me to see it. I was delighted, and wanted to go immediately, +but mother said I must wait till to-morrow. To-morrow came, and I was +sick; and at last the baby was a week old when I was taken, the happiest +little mortal in existence, into that upper room where the little one +lay in its nurse's arms. I looked at it, and then at my mother.' + +"What is the matter, Mary?' said she. + +"It isn't a very pretty baby, is it, mother?' + +"Oh it will grow prettier," said my mother, and with that I was +satisfied. I was extravagantly fond of babies, and this one I adopted as +my especial care, for there was no other in the neighborhood; and +besides, in my childish confusion of ideas, I supposed we were twins, +our birthdays being the same. + +'From the time Laetitia first learned to speak, she came to me with all +her troubles and her interests, and I was always glad to be her +sympathizer, her counsellor, and her playmate. When she was five or six +years old she went to the nearest district school. She was always a +marked girl, from her extreme homeliness, her excellent scholarship, her +boldness in all active sports, and an odd humor which never failed to +interest and amuse. My mother's prophecy, alas! was not fulfilled. She +grew no prettier, but rather the reverse. She was the same in childhood +as when you knew her, with the high, bold forehead, crowned with white, +towy hair, small greenish-gray eyes, shaded and yet not shaded with +light yellowish eyelashes, short and thin; scanty eyebrows of the same +color; a nose so small and flat it seemed scarcely a projection from her +face; teeth tolerably good, but chin and mouth receding in a peculiar +manner, and very disagreeably; and a thick, waxy complexion, worse in +childhood than of late years, for the spirit had not then found its way +through it, as it did afterward. Moreover, by a singular malignancy of +fortune, when she was twelve years old, she was attacked with varioloid, +and taking a severe cold as she was getting well, had a relapse, and was +left as you see her, not closely marked, but sufficiently pitted to +attract attention. + +'My parents thought more of education than the Sunderlands, and my +advantages were much better than Laetitia's. I went for some time to a +good select school in the town, and afterward two years to an excellent +boarding school. When Laetitia had learned all that her instructors in +the little district school could teach her, she came to me and begged +that I would let her read with me. I was very glad to do so, and soon +after my cousin and niece joined us. To those readings I am indebted for +some of the most delightful hours of my life. My pupils, as I used to +call them, were at that age when childhood is verging into womanhood, +and it was my delight to watch the first dawnings of consciousness in +their minds, the first awakening to the realities of life. Laetitia was +the youngest of the three, but she was as intelligent and mature as the +others. How well I remember the glow of enthusiasm with which she read +of the heroes and martyrs of old, the intense sympathy with which she +entered into the _amor patriæ_ of the Greek and Roman, and her fervent +admiration for the nobleness of action which this feeling called forth +in them! + +'The second year I began to see the development of new sentiments. The +romance of life, as well as its heroism and duties, was revealed to +them. Pieces of poetry which before had been read listlessly, or with +only a distant apprehension of their meaning, were now full of interest. +The sentiment which had passed unnoticed, now kindled their imaginations +with delight; and there came, too, all the new attentions to dress and +looks which first show themselves at this time. Life lay before them, +golden and beautiful, and they saw all its shining angels coming to meet +them--love, friendship, duty, praise, self-sacrifice, each with a joy in +her hand, but the sorrow was concealed from their eyes, or, rather, was +but another form of joy. They admitted its probability, but it was with +the disguised pleasure which we feel in the troubles of the heroines of +romance. + +'Laetitia shared these feelings with the others, though with less +reason; but her thought and imagination were so vivid, and gave color so +completely to her life, that it would have been as absurd for her as for +them to have looked at the probabilities of the case. Never once did she +say to herself, that to one in her circumstances, life would most likely +be full of disappointments and commonplace incidents. But time, the +great revealer, soon opened to her those pages which her wisest friend +would not have dared to show her so early. + +'One evening I went to Mrs. Sunderland's on some trivial errand. The +family were all out excepting Laetitia, whom I found sitting by the +window, in the dark, with her head resting on her hand. Her manner +indicated great depression; and I looked at her a moment and said, 'My +dear child, what is the matter with you this evening?' + +'Her head dropped upon the table, and she burst into tears. She +continued to weep and sob, till, seeing she was not relieved, I put my +hand upon her shoulder and said, 'Laetitia, Laetitia, don't cry so.' + +'Don't call me Laetitia,' she replied. 'I shall never be Laetitia +again.' + +'The answer seemed melodramatic, but I knew she was suffering. Still I +responded lightly: 'Oh yes, you will be Laetitia many, many times yet. +'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,' you +know.' + +'She did not reply, and we sat a while in silence, till at length I +begged of her to tell me the cause of her grief, just to see if I could +not help her. I think she wanted to tell it, for she tried two or three +times, but could not get any further than 'Yesterday afternoon'--At last +she said, 'I have a very great trouble; it will never be any less as +long as I live, and it will forever keep me from being happy. I _cannot_ +tell it to you: can you help me without knowing it?' + +'This was a new appeal, and I did not know how to answer it, but a +thought came to me, and I replied: 'Go and tell God about it.' + +'This I said at a venture, for, old as I was, I had never called upon +Him in deep distress, and I did not know what the effect would be; but I +saw immediately that the advice was unexpected, and seemed to meet the +exigency. + +'Her mother's voice was at that moment heard at the door, and I went out +to give Laetitia an opportunity of slipping off to her room without +meeting the family. + +''Have you seen 'Titia?' said Mrs. Sunderland to me. + +''Yes, she has just gone to her room.' + +''Well, I don't know what's the matter with the child since last night, +she's acted so queer. I 'spect she'll get over it, though; she always +did have tantrums.' + +'In one sense, however, she never did get over it, and it was many years +before she really recovered much of her old light-heartedness, although +she had an appearance of it to superficial companions. For a long time +her inner life was shut from the view of her friends; but I am at +present able to read it for you, partly from what she herself told me +afterward, and partly from that insight which we all have into those +lives and experiences with which we are in sympathy. + +'One afternoon she left me very happy and gay, and went to see a friend +near the town. She was returning slowly toward home, satisfied with +herself, and enjoying intensely the beauty of the season, when she saw +two ladies approaching her. They were strangers, and she looked at them +with interest, attracted by their pleasing faces and graceful bearing. +As they passed her, she overheard one of them say in an undertone, 'What +a frightfully homely girl!' + +'There could be no mistake. She only was meant, and the words went like +a sharp dagger to her heart. + +'While she was thinking how charming they were, she to them appeared +only frightful. The whole future in an instant opened before her, and +she saw herself, as she moved through it, constantly exciting, wherever +she went, only repulsion in the minds of strangers and friends. + +'All the charm and interest of life fled at the moment. That day and the +next she was in a stupor of grief, from which she was first awakened by +my tones of sympathy. My advice, too, opened a door of relief by giving +her something to _do_. For the first time she remembered there was a +Being who knew all about her sorrow, knew it was coming, understood its +cause, and its effects. This Being she could open her mind to, and only +to Him. He would not be surprised, and He would not annoy her with +sympathy which could not cure and would only irritate. She knelt down, +and with minute fidelity told Him every thought of her heart. The next +day she felt cheerful--she thought she was resigned; but it was only the +reaction caused by the tears and confession of the previous night, and +it soon passed away. The words 'frightfully homely' echoed and re-echoed +through her heart. All that was dreary, hopeless, and miserable +clustered around them, and shut out from her the bright, happy life of +the past. Her duties were performed as before. With others she was +sufficiently animated; but when alone, she was wretched. Thus the months +rolled on, till they became a year; and I, who had never been deceived +by her occasional liveliness, began to think what I could do to change +the current of her thoughts, which seemed to have no tendency to change +of themselves. + +'But Laetitia's life was not all feeling. Feeling suffers passively, +with greater or less endurance, according to the strength of the +physical frame, but the intellect always seeks a remedy for sorrow. It +seemed horrible to her that she of all the world--of all her world, at +least--should be so homely that no one could look on her without pain. +It was intolerable, it ought not to have been, but it _was_ permitted, +it must be. Rebellion came of course, bitter rebellion, but it could do +no good. There was the fate, it was impossible to escape it. What then? +Drag through a miserable life till death came happily to relieve it? She +was too young. Fifty, sixty years of travel over a dreary, barren waste, +with no joy upon it? No, no, she could not do it--suicide first. But +suicide was wrong, and could never be resorted to. There _must_ be some +relief elsewhere. Where was it? what was it? + +'Continual dropping will wear away a stone, and continual thinking will +wear a hollow into the stoniest of mysteries. At length, through all the +mists of proximate causes and natural laws, some glorious truths became +clear to her. The near and the visible receded to their proper +importance, and she learned to hold principles and ideas more dear than +the externals which embody them. She saw that God loves His children +equally, and though the laws of nature must take their course, there is +room for each result in His design; and in the infinite of His heart and +His work each individual has place and purpose. She found, too, that +angels laden with joy might descend and ascend between His soul and hers +without a ladder made of earthly triumphs and successes. Thus in place +of rebellion came happy acquiescence. + +'But she was not yet contented. She was convinced that there was a life +for her which she could not or would not lead if she were like others; +but this life she could not find. She saw no intimations of it in +herself. She had no genius for any special thing, and she continued +restless and disturbed, wondering what it was appointed to her to do. At +length it came to her. + +'One day, as she was passing the house of her physician, through the +open window she saw and heard that which induced her to go in and offer +her services. A man in a disgusting stage of intoxication had cut his +arm badly, and had come to have it bound up. His little child was with +him, shrieking with terror, her face and clothes covered with dirt. The +doctor roughly and with ill-concealed repugnance was caring for the +wound, while the cook, with no attempt at concealment, was loudly +expressing her disapprobation of the whole proceeding. Laetitia assisted +the doctor, and washed off the blood; then took the child home with her, +bathed her, gave her clean clothes and a dinner, and sent her away with +a new happiness in her heart. While she was doing all this, she found +what she had been seeking. There are very many things in this world +disagreeable in the extreme, which ought to be done with interest, with +care, with _love_. Why should she not undertake to do them? In +themselves they would be repugnant, but _she_ would do them for God, and +she loved her Heavenly Father so well that the hardest thing done for +Him would be the sweetest. In a day or two the feeling settled itself: +it was firmly impressed upon her mind that in these employments she +would have rest. + +'One morning, about two years perhaps after the first day of her sorrow, +she dropped into my room with something of her old suddenness, and, +after the customary greetings, said simply: 'I am happy again now.' + +''You need not tell me that: I can see it in your face.' + +'The pleased expression remained for a moment, and then an intensely +black cloud fell upon her countenance. She said nothing more, and in a +few minutes went away. You see how it was--by one of those freaks by +which the imagination loves to torture us, my remark recalled her whole +misery and its unalterable cause, and having lost for the time the +keynote to her new-found joy, the other took entire possession of her +mind and overwhelmed it. In a few days she came back to me, and I said: +'I pained you when you were here before. I do not know how, but I am +very sorry.' + +'You did pain me, but you were entirely innocent. Afterward it grieved +me still more that I _was_ pained--that what you said had the _power_ to +pain me. I will tell you all, if you will hear it;' and, without waiting +for my answer, she gave me the key to the last two years of her life. + +'She finished, but I had nothing to reply. She had said all. Hitherto I +had led her, but now her experience was deeper than mine. Besides, I +could then less than ever understand the life that was opening before +her, for I had just yielded my heart and promised my hand to one whom I +loved; and though I by no means thought it impossible that she, too, +might have tried the same path, yet I knew she thought so; and I could +not conceive how she could look forward with contentment to a life in +which that element of happiness was wanting. I could only assure her of +my own warm affection, an assurance which gave her a pleasure that it +always makes me happy to think of. + +'Notwithstanding the apparently contradictory evidence of her late +depression, her new experience was not precarious and uncertain: it was +firm, enduring, to be _rested_ upon in the most trying emergencies; yet +it was not, for many years, unwavering. During all that period of a +woman's life when looks and manners pass for so much, and the real +character for so little, she suffered at times greatly. As she went +onward, every new phase of the feelings which possess a girl's heart +brought with it its own pang, and each had to be overcome, some by +stifling, some by postponement to another existence, and others by +studying to dissever, if possible, the essential sentiment from the +shows in which it was imbedded. She was unwilling passively to outgrow +her trials, feeling that thereby she would lose the strength they were +intended to give. Her work, however, helped her more than anything. She +was not eager to enter upon it. She did not stretch forth impatient, +unskilled hands toward what her Father had designed for her. Entirely +confident, she was right, she was at ease, knowing her work would come +to her in the proper time, and it did. + +'I must say something about this work of hers, else you will be misled. +She undertook to do that which others would not do, or would not do +well, owing to a natural dislike to the thing itself. Not intending to +become a drudge, she did not allow indolence or sentimentality to shift +upon her that which others would be all the better for doing themselves. +She knew what Master she served, and looked to Him for guidance, and not +to the wishes and opinions of her fellow mortals. Gradually she found +enough to do, first in her own house, and then outside. Friends and +acquaintances called upon her, philanthropic societies applied for her +services, surgeons and nurses sought her assistance, and even strangers +learned that there was one who would willingly do for them, in cases of +emergency, what they could not do, and what no wages could procure well +done. As her life became known, she obtained the respect of some, the +contempt of others, and the wonderment of most. I will not specify what +she did, for my story is already getting too long; but you would be +surprised to know how often she was needed. + +'Her means, though small, were large enough to allow her to do most of +her work gratuitously, but she received sufficient pecuniary +compensation during the year to enable her to provide well for herself +and give much to others. + +'In pursuing the duties of her vocation, she came in contact at one time +or another with almost every kind of misery, and though, from +familiarity, she ceased to be shocked at new forms of suffering, yet she +never became hardened, but each year grew more tender and sympathizing. + +'In due time the practical workings of the great sin of the nineteenth +century came under her observation. She talked with fugitive slaves, and +all the pent-up fire within her burst forth in intense indignation. She +had not thought of the question before--it had not been in her way; but +now every feeling, her love of God, her love of country, her great +interest in human rights and destinies, conspired to make her throw her +whole soul into it, and she saw slavery as it is, its intense wickedness +and its fearful results. She looked with dismay at its effect upon the +country, its 'trail' upon everything in it, on church, on politics, on +society, on commerce, on manufactures, on education. There was nothing +which had not been corrupted by it--it was fast eating into the vitals +of religion and liberty. The more she studied the subject the more +earnest grew her feeling. But what should she do? She had not lost +self-love, that passion which never deserts us; but she had lost its +_glamour_--eyes that have wept much see clear--and she knew that the +least valuable offering which a woman without good looks, high position, +or great talent, can make to an unpopular cause, is--herself. So far +from her conspicuous support of a new thing being an encouragement and +assistance to others, it would be a hindrance: fear of being identified +with her would be another lion to be encountered in the path. + +'She loved her cause better than she loved herself, and would not make +it more odious by any marked advocacy of it. It was a new trial to her, +but she did not murmur. One who in early youth has rebelled against the +very laws by which he has his existence, and has become reconciled, does +not go through life hitting his head against every projection which +society thrusts in his way. She did what she could. She cleared +_herself_, as far as possible, from all participation in the sin, gladly +avowed her views when called upon, and never hesitated to show, by +suitable words and acts, her sympathy with a despised people. Yet she +could not accomplish much. But if she did little for the cause, it did a +great deal for her. It broadened her life, enlarged her views, increased +her comprehension of the world's progress as revealed in history, and +brought her into closer sympathy with reformers of all ages. It gave her +a perpetual object of interest. It was like a great drama, whose acts +were years and whose scenes were continually passing before her. It gave +a new zest to life, made this world more real, and diminished her +longings for the next. In narrowing her friendships it made them more +vital and satisfactory; and being in communion with hundreds of other +minds in the country, reading their thoughts became almost like personal +intercourse with them, and was a new happiness to her. Studying daily a +subject of such vast complications, her mind perceptibly grew, and from +year to year she was able to grasp new and higher truths. She gained the +hatred of a few clear-sighted opponents, but most persons only ridiculed +her, contemptuously wondering why she should pursue this course when her +interest lay so clearly the other way. But she was now far beyond the +reach of such weapons. + +'I have given you, thus, a sketch of the history and character of +Laetitia, but I cannot reproduce her as she appears to my own mind. You +must fill up the outlines from your own personal knowledge. I fear I +have rendered her too intense, and, perhaps, too sombre. Intense she +certainly was, but it did not oppress one in ordinary intercourse; and +she was not at all sombre. After she recovered fully from her youthful +grief, her elasticity of temperament returned, and her love of fun. She +looked on the bright side of all things, and was full of encouragement +and hope for her friends. To me, besides being, during the last five +years particularly, a valuable friend and adviser--no one but myself can +know how valuable--she was always an interesting companion. And yet she +was not generally liked. She was seldom understood. Her life was so +deep, her tone of thought so peculiar; and her dependence upon the +opinions of others so slight, that persons ordinarily could not 'make +her out,' as they said. Still she had very warm friends, and derived +great pleasure from their friendship. I have never seen any one derive +more. But she distrusted strangers; I mean their interest in her. She +did not expect new persons to care for her, and it took her a long while +to be sure that they did. I must myself confess, for the first and last +time, that until within two or three years I never met her after an +absence without being newly impressed with her exceeding homeliness. It +was a sin against friendship, I knew, and I was glad when I felt I was +free from it.' + +'It was not so with me,' I said. 'After I became accustomed to her face +it never affected me unpleasantly. I did not see the features, but the +spirit which animated them.' + +'Yes, you were with her continually, and, besides, she must have been so +completely identified in your mind with the relief of pain, that you +could think of her only as an angel of mercy. It was a great advantage +to her that she was always scrupulously neat in her dress and person; +and her clothes, too, were well put on, if without a great deal of +taste. + +'Upon the whole, her life was a happy one, though not perhaps triumphant +except in periods of exaltation, for there was a large part of her +nature unsatisfied; but she was thoroughly contented, willingly living +as long as was necessary, glad to go whenever the time came. She never +expected to die young, but she did; she was only thirty-six.' + +'She seemed older,' I said. + +'Yes, she always looked older than she was, and then she had lived so +much that she necessarily impressed one as being old. + +'She followed,' continued Mrs. Simmons, resuming her narrative, 'with +increasing interest the progress of the grand anti-slavery drama, until +that winter which, in defiance of all mathematical measurements, every +American _knows_ to be the longest in the annals of his country. With +fixed attention she watched every event, every indication. What next +would come she could not see, but she felt sure she should have some +part in it, whatever it was. At length the signal gun pealed forth, the +first shot was fired, the spell was broken. She wrote me, 'America calls +her sons and daughters. Up! up! to work! all true-hearted men and women! +live for me, die for me, and your reward shall be everlasting. There is +a work for all, for all who love freedom, for all who love democracy, +for all who love humanity, for all who love right law, union, and +peace.' + +'She felt that all her life had been preparing for this moment. Averse +to war as she was from instinct and principle, she yet believed it +necessary in the progress of the world, and her clear eyes scattered all +the sophisms which made both sides partly wrong and partly right. She +looked only at essential principles, and she saw that on one side was +God, and in the current of His good will to men they were fighting; on +the other was Satan, and by whatever plausible arguments he might +deceive some, he could never do aught but cause and perpetuate evil. Her +mind was quickly made up, and she asked me in her letter what steps she +should take. I sent for her to come to me, and we applied to a committee +to receive her as nurse. A great many questions were asked her, and then +her application was accepted; but she was kept waiting for the final +answer more than a week. Fast as heads and hearts and hands moved in +those days, still time could not be annihilated--it must have its place +in every work. I was present when her case was discussed. + +''I think she is an enthusiast,' said one; 'I am sure she will not do.' + +''We are all enthusiasts now,' answered another; 'that does not make any +difference.' + +''I don't believe she is,' exclaimed a pretty young woman; 'behind such +a face there can be only a very matter-of-fact mind.' + +'A tall, cold-looking lady said: 'No, she is a devotee; I know it by her +manner. We do not want such persons.' + +''I do not think we can afford to lose her services,' interrupted +another, who had been looking over a pile of papers. 'Listen to her +testimonials. Here is one from Dr. Weston, another from the Rev. Mr. +Samuels, and others. Listen, she is just the one we want.' + +All listened, and when Laetitia came, after another flood of questions, +her credentials were given her. During this delay, though she was, like +all the rest of us, at white heat regarding her country, she was +entirely quiet about herself. I asked her what she would do if she were +not accepted. 'I shall go,' said she, 'whatever obstacles are thrown in +the way.' She started very soon for the seat of war. I came here with +her to see that she had everything she needed, and you know the rest +better than I do.' + +Yes, I knew the rest, for I had been with her ever since. + +Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a +'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be +received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of +experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary, +I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a +new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I +passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face. +'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a +perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was +again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a +side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a +lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened +to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen +words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I +must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going +to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the +previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed. +I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her +assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in +the building. + +Her presence in the hospital was soon evident. The surgeons found with +surprise that her skill and knowledge were equal to every requirement, +that she shrank from no task, however fearfully repelling it might be, +and they quickly began to avail themselves of her womanly deftness. To +the soldiers she was a perpetual blessing. Every means which her +thoughtful experience could suggest she put in requisition to soothe +their pain or strengthen them to bear it. Nature, who never denies all +gifts to any of her children, had given her a good voice, not powerful, +but sweet and penetrating, and often, when all else failed, I have seen +her lull a patient to sleep with some favorite tune set to appropriate +words. Priceless indeed were her services, and priceless was the +recompense she received. + +But for the humor that peeped out occasionally in Miss Sunderland, to an +ordinary observer her character--as she moved unambitiously through the +wards, doing always the right thing at the right time, unexpectant of +blame and regardless of praise, obeying directions apparently to the +very letter, yet never allowing the mistakes or carelessness of the +director to mar her own work--would have seemed almost colorless; but I +have never considered myself an ordinary observer where character is +concerned, and I soon saw that hers was not the unreasoning goodness of +instinct, that it derived life and tone from a past full of culture and +discipline. I noticed in her three things particularly: First, complete +and unusual happiness, a happiness entirely independent of the incidents +of the day. It was as if an unclouded sun were perpetually shining in +her heart. This came, I knew afterward, from the fact that she was +serving the cause she loved most, that she was doing her work well, and +that through it and connected with it she found place for all her best +qualities and highest knowledge. Second, her thorough refinement. +Without, as I perceived, hereditary breeding, and without conventional +pruderies, she had a rare purity and elevation of feeling, which exerted +a manifest and constant influence, sadly needed in a soldiers' hospital. +Third, her life within. From choice, not from necessity, her life +continually turned upon itself; from within she found her chief motive, +sanction, and reward, and this took from her intercourse with others all +pettiness, and made their relations to herself uncommonly truthful. + +From time to time, as the scene of battle shifted, we removed to other +hospitals, I always accompanying Miss Sunderland; but at last, in the +spring, we again got back to Washington. The battles all around were +raging fearfully, and the wounded were continually brought to us in +scores. Day and night Miss Sunderland was engaged. Usually careful of +herself in the extreme, she seemed now to forget all prudence. + +'You cannot endure this,' said I one day to her. 'Your first duty is to +take care of your health.' + +'No, no,' said she, 'my first duty is to save the lives of these men; +the second, to take care of my health for their future benefit; but I +cannot give out now. Don't you see how necessary my work is?' + +'Yes, I see it,' I replied. 'I don't know how you could spare yourself, +but it does not seem right that you should be entirely worn out.' + +'Yes, it _is_ right,' answered she; 'a life saved now is of as much +consequence as one saved next year. I am useful at this time, for I +understand my profession; but others are learning the art of nursing in +no feeble school, and if I die, you will find plenty of new comers ready +to fill my place.' + +I knew from this that she anticipated the result, yet neither did I +myself see how it could be avoided; but I resolved to watch and spare +her all I could. + +During all the year, notwithstanding her unceasing cares, she had kept +herself well informed on public affairs. She knew every incident of the +war, and particularly all its moral defeats and victories. At one time +defeats of both kinds seemed to come thick and fast. She would shudder +sometimes, as she laid down the newspaper, and say: 'This prolongs the +war such a time;' weeks, months, or years, as it might be; but she never +was really disheartened. She did not doubt that the contest, when it did +come to a conclusion, would end in the triumph of the right, in the +triumph of freedom, in the regeneration of the nation; and her courage +never yielded, her resolution never faltered, till one day in the latter +part of May. + +She went out then in the afternoon to breathe the fresh air she so much +needed, but in a half hour came back with a new look in her face. A +stern, forbidding expression did not leave her during the day, and at +night she tossed about on her bed, wakeful and disturbed. At length she +rose, and sat for more than an hour by the window in the darkness, +seeking that peace which had left her so unaccountably. A new thought, +in time, took possession of her. She went back, and slept. In the +morning she called me to her, and told me that on the previous day she +had seen a black man knocked down in the streets of Washington and +carried in chains to slavery. Then she said in earnest tones: 'Child' +(she always called me _child_, though I was not much younger than +herself), 'have you in your life done all that you could do against this +abomination?' + +'No,' said I. + +'You hate it?' She asked; 'you understand its vileness, and hate it?' + +'Yes, I do now, from the bottom of my heart.' + +'Will you not promise me that until you die, you will, regardless of +self, use every effort in your power against it?' + +'I will, in all solemness and truth.' + +She was satisfied, and said no more, for she never wasted words, and I +recognized this as her legacy to me. The next day she was taken ill. I +immediately sent for Mrs. Simmons, who thought she would be able to take +her home with her; but before she arrived, I saw it would not be +possible. Her only hope of recovery was in remaining where she was. + +Mrs. Simmons came, and Miss Sunderland, notwithstanding our careful +preparations, was so overcome with emotion at meeting her old friend, +that for some time she could scarcely speak. After this warmth of +feeling had subsided, she looked up in her face with a pleasant smile, +and said: + +'I was well named, after all. I have entered into the joy of my Lord.' + +The next day she had an earnest talk with her friend on the present +state of the country. Her faith had returned through intuition, but the +grasp of her intellect was weakened by disease, and she could not see +clearly the grounds of it. Mrs. Simmons, though she had, like the rest +of us, seasons of doubt, was in a very hopeful mood that morning, +hopeful for our leading men, for the common people, and for the tendency +of events; and she explained the reasons for her belief that the +enormities of that period were no new crime, but a remnant of the old +not to be eradicated at once, any more than it is possible for an +individual to turn from great baseness to real goodness without some +backslidings, even after the most unmistakable of conversions. Miss +Sunderland was satisfied, the future again became clear to her, and +after that she seemed to lose interest in the details of affairs. Her +thoughts and conversation were filled with heaven and a regenerated +earth. + +We clung to hope as long as possible, but she herself saw the end of the +disease from the beginning. She talked with us, and with the soldiers +who were permitted to see her, as long as she was able. Wise words she +spoke, and words ever to be remembered; but at last weakness overcame +her, and her life was but a succession of gasps. One morning, after +being unconscious for many hours, she opened her eyes wide and looked at +us. She glanced from one to the other, and then, fixing her gaze on Mrs. +Simmons, said: + +'Mary, I am glad--I am glad'--but she was too weak, she could not finish +the sentence. Again she essayed. We heard the words 'frightfully +homely,' but we could not catch the rest. The light faded from her eyes, +and we thought we had seen the last expression of that wise and vigorous +mind; but the next day the bright, conscious look came again into her +face, but it gave no evidence of recognition, though ardent affection +sought eagerly for it. For a moment she lay still, and then said, in a +feeble but distinct voice: + +'It is better to enter into life maimed and halt than, having two hands +and two feet, to be cast into hell.' A half hour afterward she said +softly, as if to herself: + +'The joy of my Lord.' + +They were her last words. She relapsed into unconsciousness, and +lingered till the dawn of the next day, when she went to join that +glorious and still-increasing band of martyrs who have been found worthy +to die for our country. + + + + +SIMONY. + + Thou hast diamonds and emeralds and greenbacks, + Thou hast more than a mortal can crave; + Thou canst make a big pile, yet be honest, + Contractor--oh, why wilt thou shave? + + + + +NATIONAL ODE. + +SUGGESTED BY THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION OF JANUARY 1, 1863. + + + I. + + Shine forth upon the earth, + Bright day of dedicated birth, + And breathe in thundering accents thy command! + A mighty nation's heart awake, + Her self-enwoven fetters shake, + And vivify the pulses of the land! + Arising from the past + With stormy clouds o'ercast, + And darkened by a long-enduring night, + The Future's child and Freedom's--seraph bright! + Arise great day, and legions of the free, + Beneath thy conquering flag, lead forth to victory. + + + II. + + Great Freedom dead! Foul thought + From lies of vaunting Treason caught, + And Fear's pale minions, wrapped in sorrow's pall. + Great Freedom dead! In God-like power, + 'Tis Freedom rules e'en this dread hour, + And guides the tempest 'neath whose blows we fall. + Yea! War and Anarchy + Discord and Slavery, + And drunken Death, and all these tears + Shaking our hearts with unaccustomed fears-- + E'en these are Freedom, waiting to arise + In glad eternal triumph from her foul disguise. + + + III. + + Our country's glory slain! + Her kingdom rent and torn in twain! + Her strong foundations crumbling into dust! + With Truth's shield armed, and sword of light, + Speak thou, Columbia, in thy might, + Unharmed by thy false children's hate and lust. + Arise--no more betrayed + By fears too long obeyed, + And bid, from shore to distant shore, + Ten million voices, like the ocean's roar, + In one full chorus gloriously proclaim + The pride and splendor of thy star-immortal fame. + + IV. + + Arise! no more delay! + Arise! For this triumphant day + Shall crush the serpent cherished in thy breast. + E'en now the slimy coils unfold, + The venomed folds relax their hold, + The tooth is drawn that stung thee from thy rest. + Arise! For with a groan + Falls Slavery from his throne! + While, seizing Song's immortal lyre, + And girt afar with Heaven's Promethean fire, + Eternal Freedom, winged with prophecy, + Awakes, in swelling chords, the Anthem of the FREE. + + + V. + + No more Conspiracy, + With Treason linked and Anarchy, + Shall dig, with secret joy, their country's grave. + No more thy waning cheek shall pale, + Thy trembling limbs with terror fail, + Thy bleeding wounds Heaven's balsam vainly crave. + Uplift thy forehead fair, + And mark the monstrous snare + Of subtle foes, who sucked thy fainting breath, + And yielding thee to the embrace of death, + Awaited the fulfilment of their reign, + To shed thy lovely limbs dismembered o'er the plain. + + + VI. + + No more, degenerate, + And heedless of their darkening fate, + Shall thine own children revel in thy woes-- + Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car, + Led on by War's red, baleful star, + No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes-- + No more abandoned, bare, + Piercing with shrieks the air, + Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high + Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky + The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind, + Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind. + + + VII. + + No longer in sad scorn + Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn, + Forsaking her false kingdom in the West, + Quitting a world too sunk in crime + To heed that glorious light sublime-- + No longer shall she hide her burning crest-- + No more her children's cries + In vain appeal shall rise, + While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks + With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock, + And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate + The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate. + + + VIII. + + Thy courts no more defiled, + Thy people's hearts no more beguiled! + What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear? + Prosperity and holy Peace + Within thy borders shall increase-- + The Future's dawning glory draweth near! + The vine-clad South shall rest + Upon her brother's breast, + And, smiling in the glory of his worth, + Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth, + While tributes of the world's full treasures blent + With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent! + + + IX. + + Joy! Joy! Awake the strain, + And still repeat the glad refrain + Of Liberty, resounding to the sky. + Around thee float thy sacred dead, + Whose martyr blood for thee was shed, + Whose angel choirs, celestial, hover nigh! + Joy! Joy! No longer weep: + Rich harvests shalt thou reap, + Whose seeds, in tears and anguish sown, + With bounteous rapture thy rich feasts shall crown, + When, rising to fulfil thy destiny, + Thou leadest the nations on to Peace and Liberty. + + + X. + + Hail then to thee, great day, + Bright herald of the coming sway + Of Truth immortal and immortal Love-- + Uplift in fuller strains thy voice, + Call all the nations to rejoice, + And grasp thy olive--Time's long-promised dove! + No longer tempest-tost, + Redeem dark ages lost; + And may the work by thee begun + Ne'er pause nor falter 'till yon rising sun + Beholds the flag of Promise, now unfurled + 'Neath Freedom's conquering smile, extending o'er the world. + + + + +THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI. + + +A complete history of the bombardment and subsequent surrender of Forts +Jackson and St. Philip, and of the brilliant passage of our fleet up the +Mississippi river, which resulted in the capitulation of New Orleans, is +yet wanting, to afford the public a full comprehension of all the +attendant circumstances, respecting which there appears to have been +some misunderstanding. The daring exploit of running by the forts must +be recorded as another evidence of the historic valor and coolness of +the American navy. No less renown will attach in future times to the +bombardment of the forts by the mortar fleet, conducted as it was +entirely on scientific principles, and proving the efficiency of +mortars, when used with discretion and with a knowledge of the +localities. The great destruction in the forts was only fully +ascertained after the surrender, and shows that the success of the +fleet, in passing them safely, depended, in a great measure, upon the +inability of greater resistance on the part of Fort Jackson. + +A number of vessels, comprising the 'Western Gulf Squadron,' were +commanded by comparatively young officers, and that very important +branch of the same, the mortar flotilla, was mostly under the individual +guidance of captains (acting masters) selected from the merchant marine. +It became necessary for the navy department to select a +commander-in-chief (flag officer) and a commander for the mortar +flotilla, possessed of such qualities as to manage and render effective +the various branches of this peculiar combination of armed vessels, as +well as to inspire confidence and give satisfaction to their respective +commands. + +The appointment of Captain David G. Farragut as flag officer of the +squadron, was acknowledged as a judicious one. He was popular in his +fleet, and has realized the expectations of the country. His personal +bravery was demonstrated during the hazardous passage of the +forts--while his ship was enveloped in flames, kindled from an opposing +fire raft--by his dashing attack on the Chalmette forts near New +Orleans, and his speedy reduction of the city. + +The choice of a suitable commander for the mortar flotilla was less +difficult, inasmuch as this little fleet was a creation of the officer +who was chosen as its leader. David D. Porter, for gallantry and +ingenuity, for theoretical and practical seamanship, and for general +popularity among the officers of his own rank and date, has no superior +in the navy, and his appointment to this command was truly fortunate. + +The squadron, after having rendezvoused at Key West and Ship Island, +arrived without any material detention, at the South West Pass of the +Mississippi. A want of acquaintance with the changes in the bar, +occasioned probably by the sinking of four or five rafts, flatboats, and +an old dry dock by the enemy, resulted in some delays, but the whole +squadron at length, with the exception of the frigate Colorado, got +safely over, and anchored twelve miles up the river at the head of the +passes. + +The efficiency of mortars, elevated permanently at forty-five degrees, +depends chiefly upon an accurate knowledge of the distance to the object +to be fired upon. This distance determines the quantity of powder +necessary for the discharge, and the length of the fuses to be employed. +Captain Porter understood the impossibility of judging and estimating +distances and bearings correctly, particularly when the objects are for +the most part hidden from view, as was the case with the forts on the +wooded and crooked Mississippi, and had therefore requested of the +department the aid of a party from the U. S. coast survey, and the writer +of these notes had been detailed by Prof. A. D. Bache, the +superintendent of that work. One acting assistant, two sub-assistants, +and one aid were attached to the party, and the steam gunboat Sachem was +placed at their disposal. This vessel arrived in the Mississippi on the +11th of April. Captain Porter at once requested Mr. Gerdes to furnish a +reliable survey of several miles of the river, below and including the +fortifications. In this service a number of gunboats belonging to the +fleet and to the mortar flotilla accompanied the Sachem, partly to +afford protection, and partly to draw the enemy's attention from the +operations of the surveyors. Mr. Gerdes commenced work with his party on +the 13th of April, and continuing for five consecutive days, made a +reliable map of the river and its shores from the 'Jump' to and +including Forts Jackson and St. Philip, with their outworks and water +batteries; the hulks, supporting the chain across the river, and every +singular and distinguishable object along its banks. The survey was made +by triangulation carried forward simultaneously on both sides of the +river. Two coast survey signals were found, the 'Jump telegraph post,' +and 'Salt-work's chimney top,' of which the geodetic relations were +known, and the work was founded upon a base line connecting these two +points. Sub-assistant Oltmanns, and Mr. Bowie as aid, were detailed for +the west shore, Mr. Gerdes and acting assistant Harris taking the +eastern side, while sub-assistant Halter observed angles from permanent +stations. The angular measurements were made with all kinds of +instruments found suitable to the locality. Only a few of the stations +were on solid ground, nearly all the shore being overflowed. Frequently +the members of the party were compelled to mount their instruments on +the chimney tops of dilapidated houses. In other places boats were run +under overhanging trees on the shore, in which signal flags were +hoisted, and the angles measured below with sextants. It was very +satisfactory, however, that the last measurement determined (leading to +the flagstaff on St. Philip) agreed almost identically with the location +given by the coast survey several years ago. It seemed to be a regular +occupation of the garrison in the fort, to destroy, during the +night-time, the marks and signals which were left daily by the party; +and for this reason, Mr. Gerdes caused numbered posts to be set in the +river banks, and screened with grass and reeds so that they could not be +found by the enemy in the dark. From these marks, which were separately +determined, he was enabled to furnish to Captain Porter the distances +and bearings, from almost any point on the river to the forts, and by +the resulting data the commander selected the positions for his mortar +vessels. + +On the 17th day of April the mortar schooners were moved to their +designated positions, and the exact distances and bearings of each +vessel being ascertained from the map, were furnished to the respective +captains. Then the bombardment fairly commenced, and was continued, with +only slight intermission, for six days. Twice Captain Porter ordered +some of the vessels to change their positions when he found localities +that would answer better; the coast survey party furnished the new data +required. From the schooners, which were fastened to the trees on the +riverside, none of the works of the enemy were visible, but the exact +station of each vessel and its distance and bearings from the forts had +been ascertained from the chart. The mortars were accordingly charged +and pointed and the fuses regulated. Thus the bombardment was conducted +entirely upon theoretical principles, and as such with its results, +presents perhaps a new feature in naval warfare. When the whole number +of shells discharged from the flotilla is compared with those that fell +and left their marks on the dry parts of Fort Jackson (to which must be +added, in the same ratio, all those falling in the submerged parts), the +precision of the firing appears truly remarkable, and must command our +highest admiration, particularly when we consider that every shot was +fired upon a _computed_ aim. + +During the days of the bombardment, the exact damage done to the forts +could not be ascertained. A deserter from the garrison came to the fleet +and stated that Jackson was a complete wreck, but his information was +considered rather doubtful. After six days' firing, when the forts +showed no disposition to surrender, and when our stock of ammunition was +considerably reduced, Captain Porter submitted to the flag officer a +plan for passing with the fleet between the forts. The order to pass the +forts was given on the 23d of April, and a favorable reference in this +order was made to Captain Porter's plan. On the morning of the 24th of +April, at three o'clock, the fleet got under weigh. The steam gunboats +of the flotilla ran up close to the western fort and engaged the water +battery and the rampart guns, and from the mortar vessels a shower of +shells was thrown into the besieged work. This bombardment made it +impossible for the leaders of the enemy to keep their men on the +ramparts. Three times they broke, although they were twice driven back +to their guns at the point of the bayonet. From Fort St. Philip a much +greater resistance was offered to the ships in their passage up between +the works, as that fort had not been (comparatively speaking) so +effectively attacked, nor had it suffered previously nearly so much as +the other from the mortars of Captain Porter. That the resistance of +Jackson was much slighter on this occasion, is further demonstrated, by +the fact, that our ships received little injury from the port side (Fort +Jackson), while nearly all the shot holes were found to be on the +starboard, the Fort Philip side. + +After the fleet had thus passed the stronghold of the enemy, and +destroyed ten or twelve of his armed steamers, the famous ram 'Manassas' +among them, Captain Farragut gallantly ascended the river, took and +occupied the quarantine, where he paroled the garrison, and then +continued his course for New Orleans. In the mean time, it had been +ascertained, that the iron-clad battery Louisiana, fourteen guns, and +two or three other armed steamers of the enemy were still unharmed near +the forts, and it appeared therefore precarious, for Captain Porter to +remain with his mortar schooners (all sailing vessels) quite unprotected +and liable to momentary attack from such overpowering structures. He +consequently despatched them to the gulf, to watch and cut off in the +rear all communication with the forts, while he remained with the few +steam gunboats of the flotilla, at the station occupied during the +bombardment. The Sachem, commanded by Mr. Gerdes, he had sent east of +Fort St. Philip, to aid Major-General Butler in landing troops by the +back bayou, leading to the quarantine. This duty was successfully +executed by the coast survey party. They sounded the channel, and buoyed +it out with lamps, and thus facilitated the landing of about one +thousand five hundred soldiers during the night in boats and launches of +the transports. + +By this time, flag officer Admiral Farragut had successfully silenced +the extensive batteries of Chalmette, and finally appeared with his +fleet before New Orleans. + + LIST of the Mortar Flotilla, attached to the + Western Gulf Squadron, under the command + of Com. D. D. PORTER. + + STEAMERS. + + STEAMER DIVISION. + + _Harriet Lane_, Lt. Com. J. M. Wainwright. + Flagship of Com. D. D. Porter. + _Westfield_, Com. W. B. Renshaw. + _Owasco_, Lt. Com. J. Guest. + _Clifton_, Act. Lt. Com. Charles Baldwin. + _Jackson_, Lt. Com. S. E. Woodsworth. + _Miami_, Lt. Com. A. D. Harrel. + _Sachem_, Ass't. Coast Survey, F. H. Gerdes. + + MORTAR VESSELS. + + FIRST DIVISION + + _Norfolk Packet_, Schooner, Lt. Com. W. Smith. + _Oliver H. Lee_, " Act. Mas. W. Godfrey. + _Para_, " Act. E. G. Furber. + _C. P. Williams_, " Act. A. R. Langthorn. + _Arletta_, " Act. T. E. Smith. + _W. Bacon_, " Act. W. P. Rogers. + _Sophronia_, " Act. L. Bartholomew. + + SECOND DIVISION + + _T. A. Ward_, " Lt. Com. W. W. Queen. + _M. J. Carlton_, " Act. Mas. Charles E. Jack. + _Mathew Vasser_, " Act. H. H. Savage. + _George Mangham_, " Act. J. Collins. + _Orvetta_, " Act. F. C. Blanchard. + _S. C. Jones_, " Act. J. D. Graham. + + THIRD DIVISION + + _John Griffith_, " Act. H. Brown. + _Sarah Bruen_, " Act. A. Christian. + _Racer_, " Act. A. Phinney. + _Sea Foam_, " Act. H. E. Williams. + _Henry James_, " Act. L. W. Pennington. + _Dan Smith_, " Act. G. W. Brown. + _Horace Beal_, Bark, Act. G. W. Summer. + + + The First Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. Smith. + The Second Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. W. Queen. + The Third Division Commanded by Lt. Com. K. R. Breese. + The Steamer Division Commanded by Com. W. B. Renshaw. + + + LIST of Vessels and Officers commanding + them, that passed up the river: + + FIRST DIVISION, CAPT. T. BAILY, Commanding. + + _Cayuga_, Lt. Com. N. B. Harrison. + _Pensacola_, Capt. Henry W. Morris. + _Mississippi_, Com. M. Smith. + _Oneida_, Com. S. P. Lee. + _Varuna_, Com. Charles S. Boggs. + _Katahdin_, Lt. Com. G. H. Preble. + _Wissahickon_, Lt. Com. A. N. Smith. + + SECOND DIVISION, Fleet Captain H. H. BELL, + Commanding. + + _Hartford_, Capt. R. Wainwright. + _Brooklyn_, Capt. Thomas T. Craven. + _Richmond_, Com. James Alden. + _Sciota_, Lt. Com. E. Donaldson. + _Iroquois_, Com. John De Camp. + _Pinola_, Lt. P. Crosby. + _Winona_, Lt. Com. Edward T. Nichols. + _Itasca_, Lt. Com. C. H. B. Caldwell. + _Kennebec_, Lt. Com. J. H. Russell. + +When this fact became known to General J. K. Duncan, he accepted terms +for the surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip to Commodore Porter. +While negotiations were progressing on board the 'Harriet Lane,' between +our own and the confederate officers, (that vessel, and the Westfield, +Clifton, Jackson, and Owasco, were at anchor between the two forts, each +carrying a large white flag at the masthead,) the leaders of the enemy's +marine forces set fire to the iron-clad battery Louisiana, cast her +loose, and sent her adrift straight for our fleet. This dishonorable act +on the part of the enemy during a time of truce, and while their own +officers were in consultation with the commander of our forces, on board +of a United States vessel, might have resulted in a very serious +disaster to us, had not the magazine of the Louisiana exploded before +she reached the fleet, which it did in full view of our vessels, and not +far off. This explosion was succeeded by a crash, presenting a scene +such as has been rarely witnessed. After this fearful episode, the +capitulation was concluded, and both the forts, the garrison, the +armament, ammunition, stock, and provisions, were formally surrendered +to Commander Porter, of the mortar flotilla, and transferred by him, on +the next day, to Major-General Butler, commanding the United States army +in the Department of the Gulf. + +Many contradictory opinions existed regarding the actual damage +inflicted by the bombardment, as well as by the broadside fire of the +passing fleet; and, Captain Porter desired Mr. Gerdes to make such a +survey of Fort Jackson, as would settle all doubts touching the matter +in question. Under his supervision, Acting Assistant Harris, aided by +the other members of his party, traced in their corresponding places on +the large existing detailed plan of the fort, all the injuries arising +from the attack. Every hole in the ground, (whether caused by the mortar +shells or round shot,) break in the walls, crack in the masonry, each +gun dismantled or disabled, the burnt citadel, the hospital and +outbuildings, the destroyed bridges and injured magazines, were noted by +actual measurement. + +The levees, which before the attack had kept the high water of the +Mississippi from entering the fort, were found destroyed in numerous +places by bomb-shells. Much of the area of the fort was in consequence +overflowed. The number of balls and shells which fell in the inundated +parts, was estimated from the proportion found in the dry parts. In the +plan, the submerged parts were distinctly marked, and it plainly shows, +that hardly one quarter of the whole area remained dry or above the +level of the water. + +From this survey the following statistics are gathered: + + 1. Number of 13 in. shells fired + from the mortar flotilla that fell + on solid ground 1,113 + + 2. Number of shells purposely + exploded over the forts 1,080 + + 3. Number of shells that fell in + overflowed ground (computed) 3,339 + + 4. Number of round shot visible + on dry ground fired from the + fleet and the gunboat of the + flotilla 87 + + 5. Number of round shot that + fell on overflowed ground + (computed) 261 + + 6. The total destruction of the citadel + of the forts, of the hospitals, the outbuildings, + the magazines, the bridges, + and of thirteen scows for use in the + moat. + + 7. The very severe injury to the ramparts, + particularly on the northwest side + to the casemates, all along the front, + (which were cracked from end to end,) + to the levees, which were completely + riddled, and to the works in general. + The demolition was so great, that the + shell holes in the ground left hardly + anywhere a free passage for walking. + +It is further ascertained from this survey, that the armament of the +fort consisted of fifty 32-pounders, seven columbiads, ten short guns, +three rifle guns, two brass field pieces, and three mortars, in all +seventy-five guns. + + * * * * * + +The following are extracts from Mr. Harris' report to Assistant Gerdes, +accompanying the plan, which was published by the Navy Department: + + 'My informant, (an intelligent and reliable eyewitness,) + voluntarily gave the credit of reducing the forts to the bomb + fleet. The fort was so much shaken by this firing, that it was + feared the casemates would come down about their ears. The loss of + life by the bombs was not great, as they could see them coming + plainly, and avoid them, but the effect of their fall and explosion + no skill could avert. + + 'About one shell in twenty failed to explode; even those that fell + in the water going off. It is worth noticing, that the bombs that + fell in the ditches close to the walls of the fort and exploded + there, shook the fort much more severely, than any of those that + buried themselves in the soft ground. + + 'The fort was in perfect order when the bombardment commenced, the + dirt which now disfigures everything is the accumulation of a few + days. The water did not enter the fort until the levee had been + broken by the bombs; during the summer of 1861, when the + Mississippi was even higher, the parade ground remained entirely + dry.' + +The above statistics and information show, that the surrender of the +forts was caused by the terrific bombardment of the mortar fleet, a fact +which should always remain identified with the brilliant achievements, +that ended in the recapture of the second commercial city of our +country. + + + + +REASON, RHYME, AND RHYTHM. + + + All arts are one, howe'er distributed they stand, + Verse, tone, shape, color, form, are fingers on one hand.' + + +INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME FIRST. + +The first volume of this work contains an inquiry into the principles of +art, and an attempt to present a rational solution of the delight felt +in the contemplation of Beauty. The related thoughts upon art and +beauty, found scattered almost at random over so many pages, and in so +many different tongues, have been brought together, and, closely linked +in logical sequences, placed in such connections that they now mutually +illustrate and corroborate one another. No longer drifting apart in the +bewildering chaos of multitudinous pages, they now revolve round a +common centre, the heart of all artistic beauty, through whose +manifestations alone it gains its power to charm the human soul: viz., +'the infinite attributes of the Author of all true Beauty.' + +These thoughts on Art and Beauty have been carefully compiled, +condensed, and arranged from many writers of eminence: Tissandier, +Ruskin, Schlegel, etc., etc.; and are interwoven with much original +matter, placing their great truths in new relations, and developing +their complex meanings. By working up _with them_ the thoughts suggested +_by them_, the author has sedulously endeavored to form them into a +whole of higher power. + +The first volume being devoted to the theory of art, an attempt has been +made in the second to bring the more general thoughts to a focus, and +concentrate their light upon the vexed and confused subject of +versification. The second volume may indeed be considered as a 'Manual +of Rhythm,' for the most _practical_ rules are given for its +construction and criticism, and simple and natural solutions offered of +its apparent irregularities and anomalies; while examples of sufficient +length are cited from our most musical poets to give just ideas of the +characteristics and power of all the measures in use in English +versification. + +That the book may prove useful to the reader, is the earnest wish of the +author! + + * * * * * + +LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO EUGENE B. COOK. + +When the busy little sailor bird builds himself a nest in which he--with +his mate and their tiny brood--may swing secure through the sudden +storms of fitful springs, and find shelter from the heats of summer, +sewing it so tightly together that the rain cannot permeate it, nor the +wild winds waft away the light beams and rafters of the swinging home, +we do not quarrel with the little architect because he has industriously +gleaned such materials as were needed for his purpose, because he has +torn his leaves from the great forest book of nature. The leaves are +freely given by God, and the little builder has a natural right to play +the artist with them, if he can succeed in forming them into a _new +whole_, fitted for the maintenance of a higher order of life. Thus the +thoughts of great men are the common heritage of humanity. + +Or, when we eat of the fragrant honey, we do not quarrel with the thymy +bees because they have blended for us the sweets of Hybla. The flowers +from which they were drawn are lovely and perfumed as before, but the +workers have made from them a _new whole_, in which the pilfered sweets +have gained a higher value from their perfect union. Those who prefer +the dewy juice as it exists in the plant, may use their own powers to +extract it, for the bee has not injured the flowers, and they may still +be found blooming in the keen mountain air; but let those who may not +scale the heights, nor work the strange transmutation, who yet love the +fragrant honey, eat--blessing the little artist for his waxen cells and +winged labor. + +Who would quarrel with a friend because he had roamed through many a +clime to find flowers for a wreath woven for our pleasure? Virgin Lilies +from the still lakes of Wordsworth, Evergreens from the labyrinthine +forests of Schlegel, Palm from the holy hills of Tissandier, Amaranth +with the breath of angels fresh upon it from the Paradise groves of +Ruskin, interwoven with Passion Flowers and Anemones of his own +wilds,--shall we not acknowledge our wreath as a new whole, seeing that +the isolated fractions are raised to a higher power in becoming +essential parts of a new unity? + +Eugene, the wreath of Lilies, Evergreen, Palm, and Amaranth--the honey +of Hybla--the many-leaved nest of the little architect, in which you may +swing through the storms of the finite, into the deep and cloudless blue +of the infinite,--are now before you! + +Will you not look up from the fleshless and skeleton perfection of the +problemed forms, which start at your slightest touch from the formal +squares of the chess board,--forms which confuse me with their +complexity, bewilder me in the mazes of their ceaseless combinations, +dazzle me with their chill erudition, and appal me with want of +life,--and smile acceptance on the glowing gifts here lovingly tendered +you? + + * * * * * + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST. + + CHAP. I, _Beauty._ + CHAP. II, _The Soul of Art._ + CHAP. III, _The Infinite._ + CHAP. IV, _Unity._ + CHAP. V, _Order, Symmetry, and Proportion._ + CHAP. VI, _Truth and Love._ + CHAP. VII, _The Artist and his Realm--The Ideal._ + + +BEAUTY + + 'The awful shadow of some unknown Power + Floats, though unseen, among us, visiting + This various world with as inconstant wing + As summer winds that creep from flower to flower.' + SHELLEY. + +A philosophical theory of poetry and the fine arts should consider, in +the first place, the fundamental and general laws of Beauty; in the +second place, analyze the faculties necessary for the perception or +creation of the Beautiful; and, in the last place, should strive to +account for the pleasure always experienced in its contemplation. Such +an analysis is necessary, as an introductory study, to the full and +complete comprehension of any specific branch of art. + +On the other hand, every specific art has its own special theory, +designed to teach the limits of its means, and the difficulties peculiar +to the medium through which it is to manifest the Beautiful, with the +various rules by which it must be regulated in its realization of the +fundamental laws of Beauty. + +A clear, deep, and comprehensive view of the origin and nature of the +Fine Arts, is the work most needed by the readers and thinkers of the +present century. Some noble attempts have indeed been made in this +direction, but, valuable as such essays may be, they do not yet +correspond to the growing, requisitions of the public mind. It is true +such a work would be one of great difficulty, exacting immense stores of +information, and highly cultivated tastes. The writer must possess the +logical power requisite for the most subtle analyses; he must have the +_creative_ genius to combine the scattered facts of natural beauty, with +their varied effects upon the human consciousness, into one great whole; +while, at the same time, the tenderness and susceptibility of the +_receptive_ genius must be equally developed in him. He should blend the +loving and devout soul of a Fra Angelico with the logical acumen of a +Bacon. How seldom is the creative genius sufficiently tender and humble +to be, in the full sense of the term, at the same time, _receptive_! + +After its treatment of the philosophical theory of Art, such a work +should also throw its light upon the special theories, and more general +rules of specific arts; for such rules, when true, are never arbitrary, +but spring from the fundamental laws, of universal Beauty. They are but +the external manifestation, through material mediums, of eternal laws. + +The compiler of the present article can offer no such great work to the +reader. An earnest effort will however be made to bring together the +related thoughts upon Art and Beauty. They are found scattered almost at +random over so many pages; to link them together by arranging them in +their logical sequences, placing them so that they will illustrate and +mutually corroborate one another: and, working up with them the thoughts +suggested by them, the author has labored to form of them a compact and +easily perused _whole._ For the ideas selected are _essentially +related_, and, scattered as they may have hitherto been, naturally +gravitate round a common centre. No longer drifting apart through the +chaos of multitudinous pages, they are now formed into a system of +order, a galaxy of which the central sun is--the Divine attributes as +manifested through the Beautiful. + +If the writer shall succeed in suggesting to some lucid and +comprehensive mind the fact that a noble field for the culture of the +human heart and soul remains almost unexplored, and induce one worthy of +the task to undertake its cultivation; or if her humble work shall +induce one lover of pure art to direct his attention to the glorious +promises which it reveals to him of a closer communion with the Great +Artist, the beneficent Creator of the Beautiful--she will feel herself +more than compensated for her 'pleasant labor of love.' + +All true art is symbolic; a thought, an idea, must always constitute the +significance, the soul of its outward form. The mere delusive +imitations, the servile copyings of the actual shapes of reality, are +not the proper objects of art. To form a master work of art, the idea +symbolized must be pure and noble; the technical execution, faultless. +No heavier censure can, however, be passed upon an artist, than that he +possesses only the technic or rhetoric of art, without having penetrated +to its subtle essence of forming thought. + +Man is chiefly taught through _symbolism_. Living in a symbolic world of +sensuous emblems, he seeks in them a substitute for the wondrous powers +of immediate cognition which he lost in his fall. His highest +destination is _symbolical_, for is he not made in the Divine image? +Through the symbolism of the matter is the soul taught its first lessons +in the school of life: when it is known and felt that nature is but the +symbol of the Great Spirit, the instinct of our own immortality awakes. +In the Old Covenant, the twilight of faith was studded with the starry +splendor of a marvellous symbolism; and the new era of the ascending and +ever-brightening dawn still bears on its front the glittering morning +star of symbolic Christian art. + +Notwithstanding its earthly intermixture, however it may have wandered +from its true source, however sensuous and worthless it may have become, +art, in its essence, is still divine. Men devoted to the pursuit of mere +material well being, have been too long in the habit of regarding poetry +and the arts as mere recreations, to be taken up at spare moments, +pursued when we have nothing better to do; as a relief for the ennui of +idleness, or an ornament for the centre table; without remembering how +many good and great men have given up their whole lives to its +advancement; without considering into how many hearts it has borne its +soothing lessons of faith and love. + +Men look upon art as if it were to be pursued merely for the sake of +art, for the egotistic pleasure of the artist, and not as a moral power +full of responsibility and dignity. We might as well suppose that +science is to be pursued merely for the sake of science, that we are to +think only that we may think. But while everything has its determinate +end in the lower world of matter, concurring in its degree to the life +of the whole; can there exist faculties and tendencies without aim in +the soul; permanent, regular, and general facts without a final cause? +Can art exist as an accidental fact in the bosom of society? Is it not +rather an important means for the development of the finer feelings of +the heart, the higher faculties of the soul? + +Man was created 'to glorify God and enjoy him forever,' says the +elementary catechism of the sternest of all creeds. Anything, therefore, +which sets before us more preëminently the glory of God, thus placing +more vividly before us the only source of all true enjoyment, must be, +in the highest sense of the word, useful to us, as enabling us to fulfil +the very end of our creation. Things that only help us to draw material +breath, are only useful to us in a secondary sense: if they alone are +thought of, they are worse than useless; for it would be better we +should not exist at all, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of our existence. Yet men in this material age speak as if +houses and lands, food and raiment, were alone useful; as if the open +eye and loving appreciation of all that He hath made were quite +profitless; as if the meat were more than the life, the raiment than the +body. They look upon the earth as a stable, its fruit as mere fodder, +loving the corn they grind and the grapes they crush better than the +gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden, so that the woe of the +Preacher has fallen upon us: 'Though God has made everything beautiful +in his time, also He hath set the world in their heart, so that no man +can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.' + + 'The age culls simples. + With a broad clown's back turned broadly to the glory of the stars; + We are gods by our own reck'ning, and may well shut up our temples-- + And wield on, amid the incense steam, the thunder of our cars. + + 'For we throw out acclamations of self-thanking, self-admiring, + With, at every mile run faster, 'Oh, the wondrous, wondrous age,' + Little thinking if we work our souls as nobly as our iron, + Or if angels will commend us at the goal of pilgrimage.' + +Utility has a nobler sense than a mere ministering to our physical +wants, a mere catering to our sense of luxury. Geology is surely higher +when refleshing the dry bones and revealing to us the mysteries of a +lost creation, than when tracing veins of lead and beds of iron; +astronomy, when opening the houses of heaven for us, than when teaching +us the laws of navigation. That these things are useful to us in a lower +sense, is God's merciful condescension to the wants of our material +life;--that we may discern their eternal beauty, and so glorify their +Maker in the enjoyment of His attributes, is an earnest, even here, of +our blissful immortality. + +If art has frequently fallen from its high mission, if it has often +failed to incarnate the divine ideas from which all its glories must +flow, it must be attributed in part to the artists themselves; in part +to the public for whom they labor, and whom they too often seek only to +amuse. They clutch at the ephemeral bouquets of the passing passions of +a day, not caring to wait for the unfading crowns of amaranth. If the +artist will stoop to linger in the Circean hall of the senses, he must +not be astonished if good and earnest men should reproach him with the +triviality of a misspent and egotistic life. + +If we should pause and examine into the reasons for the different +estimation in which art is held by different persons, we should find +them in the various definitions of the Beautiful which would be offered +us by the individuals in question. Let us linger for a moment to examine +such definitions. + +One class of men would tell us that the Beautiful is that which is +agreeable to the senses of sight and hearing. They would admire, in +painting, the delineation of naked flesh, luxuriant as it glows upon the +canvas of Vandyke and Rubens; in statuary, they would seek voluptuous +and sensual positions; while in music, they would love that which +titillates the ear, which lulls them into an indolent yet delicious +languor. Such men are the dwellers in the halls of Circean senses; they +can appreciate only the sensuous. The poets of this class are very +numerous. They never rise to those general ideas which are found in the +universal consciousness, but are forever occupied with fugitive +thoughts, passing as the hour in which they are born. They delight in +representing the _accidental_, the exceptional, the peculiar, the +fashion, mode, or exaggeration of the flying hour. They never sing of +the high and tender feelings which pervade the human heart; of the joys +and sorrows of the soul in its mystic relations with God, its +sympathetic affections with humanity; but delight in describing furtive +sensations, passing impressions, individual and subjective bliss and +woe. Never daring to grapple with the sublime yet tender simplicity of +nature, they sport with eccentricity, delight in fantastically related +ideas, revel in surprises, in sudden and unforeseen developments. Their +style is full of individualities and mannerisms, ornaments and +intricacies; the _coloring_ is always worth more than the _form_, the +sensation than the idea. Their heroes and heroines are grotesque beings, +sentimental caricatures, souls not to be comprehended, always placed in +unnatural situations, and surrounded with dark, gloomy, and impenetrable +mysteries. If their readers can be made to exclaim at every page: +'Inconceivable! astonishing! original!' they consider their work +perfect. Such poets seldom attempt long poems; if they should +imprudently do so, we find but little sequence, and nothing of that +clear order, of that marvellous _unity_, which mark the works of the +masters. Everything is sought to flatter that pretentious vanity of the +limited understanding which piques itself on its stereotyped knowledge, +always striving to usurp the higher empire of the divining soul. Such +writing certainly requires subtlety of intellect, for talent is required +to discover that which no one can see; to invent relations where none +exist. We may, indeed, often observe great perfection in the details, +high finish in the execution, keen intellect in the analysis; but +nothing in the thoughts which appeals to the universal heart. Brilliant +pictures succeed to brilliant pictures, decoration to decoration, but +there is an utter want of essential unity. Absorbed in the sensuous +gorgeousness of highly colored details, if they can but glue together +startling and overwrought images, they are satisfied, even while +neglecting the principal idea. They seize everything by the outside; +nothing by the heart. + +The painters of this class give us glaring colors and violent contrasts; +the musicians, antitheses, concetti, ingenious combinations, _tours de +force_, rather than flowing melodies or profound harmonies. The power +they _wish_, to possess spoils that they _really have_; all _true_ +inspiration abandons the hopeless artist in the midst of his ingenious +subtleties; it flies before his fantastic conceits; laughs at the +follies of his prurient fancies; and withdraws its solemn light from the +vain and presumptuous intellect, doting ever over its own fancied +superiority. Inspiration, that holy light only vouchsafed to the loving +soul, speaks to man in the silence of the subjective intellect. If the +heart is tossed by a thousand passing and selfish passions, how can its +solemn but simple and tender voice be heard? Suffering such inflated +spirits to plume themselves upon the transitory admiration they are +always sure of obtaining, it allows them to take the evil for the good; +the grotesque for the beautiful; the meteors of vanity for the heaven +stars of truth. + +Such artists love not the mighty arches of gothic architecture, in whose +vast curves and dim recesses lurks the mystic idea of the infinite; they +take no interest in the ascetic faces which the old masters loved to +picture, worn into deep furrows of care by penitence and holy sorrow, +though lighted with the triple ray of Faith, Hope, and Love. They have +no sympathies with the saints and heroes who have been great through +self-abnegation, for such lives are a constant reproach to their own +sybaritical tendencies. Constantly mistaking the effervescence of +passion for the fire of genius; viewing the sublime realities of +religion only as fantastic dreams; seeing nothing but the gloom of the +grave beyond the fleeting shadows of the present life; granting reality +to nothing but that which is essentially variable, phenomenal, and +contingent; forever revelling in the luxuriousness of mere +sensation--they understand only that which can be seen and handled. But +the devotion to the True in art is a disinterested worship--a worship +requiring the most heroic self--abnegation; for the love of fame, of +self, of pleasure, will so bewilder and confuse the artist, that he will +never be able to sound the depths of any art. And now, can we wonder if +pure and earnest men utterly refuse to acknowledge the dignity and worth +of art, when manifested to them through the works of fantastically +sensuous, or voluptuously sensual artists? This misconception of the +true aim of art, of the meaning of the Beautiful--with its natural +consequence, merely sensuous manifestations of Beauty through the medium +of different arts--has been one of the causes of the violent and +inveterate prejudices which have arisen against art itself in the minds +of many good men; and, were this view of beauty and art the true one, we +could not deny that such prejudices or opinions would be but too well +founded. To combat such debasing and false views of the aims of art, +will be the chief object of the present volume. If art were to be +degraded into the servant and minister of the senses, we would be among +the first to condemn it. But all Beauty proceeds from the All Fair, who +hath pronounced all 'good,' and 'loveth all that He hath made.' + +Leaving the 'men of the senses' in their Circean sleep, we proceed to +question the 'men of the schools' with regard to their conception of +art, their definition of the Beautiful. Erudite as they may be, their +response to our question is scarcely more satisfactory. The Beautiful, +in their estimation, is but the realization of _known rules_, fixed and +sanctioned by long usage. Such men are the connoisseurs in art, the +students of manuals, who are familiar with all the acknowledged _chefs +d'oeuvre_, and all the possible resources of art; they have traced for +genius itself the path in which it must walk, and will accept none as +true artists who wander from it. They are not ashamed to take a poet +such as Shakespeare, to compare his wonderful creations with the rules +they have acquired with so much labor, and, seeking in his living dramas +only the application of the principles with which _they_ are familiar, +scruple not to condemn the immortal works of the greatest of all +uninspired writers. Madame de Staël truly says: 'Those who believe +themselves qualified to pronounce sentence upon the Beautiful, have more +vanity than those who believe they possess genius.' Taste in the fine +arts, like fashion in society, is indeed considered as a proof of +_haut-ton_, a claim to fashionable and personal distinction. +Should a man of the most cultivated mind and soul, venture to pronounce a +judgment upon the character of some great architectural work, +without being versed in the terms and technics of scientific +architecture--remark with what profound contempt his opinion on its +effect will be received by the pompous men of the schools! Or, let him +venture to take pleasure in a musical composition not approved by the +musical savants, in which they have detected various crimes against the +laws of harmony, the fixed rules of counter point--and behold the men of +the schools, how they will shrug their classic shoulders in contempt at +his name and besotted ignorance! Or, should he venture to delight in the +original and naive lyrics of some untaught bard of nature, without being +able to justify his admiration by learned citations from Virgil and +Horace, to say nothing of the categories of Aristotle--he is considered +as an ignoramus, who might possibly impose upon those ignorant as +himself, but who should at least have the modesty to yield up at once +his opinion to the conclusive decisions of the great literary pundits! +In vain may he assert that such and such a passage is touching and +noble; in vain, may he say it has appealed to his inmost soul, and +awakened deep and holy emotions, that it has made him a better man;--the +same wise shrug of contempt greets him; he is told 'such effects are +impossible, for the work in question offends a fixed rule!' + +Yet what great diversity of opinion obtains among the very band of +self-constituted elect! How few possess the requisite mastery of the +rules, and what an immense number of the human race would thus be +excluded from the elevating sources of enjoyment to be found in poetry +and the fine arts! Such scholastic critics confound two things to be +distinguished in every work in all branches of art; viz., the _pure +idea_, and the _material form_ through which it is manifested. It is +indeed necessary that the artist should make severe studies, and +thoroughly master the technics of his chosen art, whatever it may be; +for, as means to facilitate the clearest manifestation of his +conceptions, such formulæ are of immense importance;--but an erudite +acquaintance with the technics of art is not necessary for the +comprehension of the _idea_, manifested; for the _idea_ itself is ever +within the range of the human intellect, and the soul may always +consider the thought of the soul, when appropriately manifested, _face +to face_. 'Imbibe not your opinions from professional artists,' says +Diderot; 'they always prefer the difficult to the beautiful!' + +Artistic judgment is, indeed, too apt to be satisfied with correct +drawing and harmony of colors; harmony and keeping of plastic forms; +harmony of tones; harmony of thoughts in relation to one another; +without considering that to these necessary harmonies two more, +primarily essential, must be added: harmony of thought with the eternal, +with the divine attributes of truth, infinity, unity, and love; and +harmony of expression with what ought to be--which is indeed to assert +that true Beauty is neither sensuous nor scholastic, but vitally and +essentially moral. True Beauty lingers not in the soft halls of the +Circean senses; it wanders not in the trim paths, beaten walks, or dusty +highways of the schools, though the artist must indeed be familiar with +all the intricacies of their windings, that he may there master the laws +and proportions of the form through which he is to manifest the supernal +essence through our senses to our souls; it dwells above, too high to be +degraded by our low sensualism, too ethereal to lose its sweet freedom +in the logically woven links of our scholastic trammels. 'Ye shall know +the _truth_, and it shall make you free,' is a proposition not only of +moral, but of universal artistic application. + +Disgusted by the idle pretensions and stilted pedantry of the men of the +schools, can we wonder if good and earnest men still refuse to +acknowledge the high worth and dignity of art, which, in accordance with +such definitions, would be nothing but a manifestation and studied +application of the rules and laws of the limited and pedantic human +understanding? To prove art essentially _moral_, in exact correspondence +with the triune being of man addressing itself _through_ his senses, in +accordance with the requisitions of his understanding, _to_ his +soul--and that it is only delightful to the soul created for the +enjoyment of God, in so far as it is successful in manifesting or +suggesting some portion of the Divine attributes--are the chief objects +of the book here offered to the reader. If art were indeed to be +degraded into nothing higher than the exponent or incarnation of the +logical data and rigid formulæ of the limited understanding of man, the +writer would be frozen to death in the attempt to plant its chilling +banner. She too would regard it but as a solemn trifling with time and +the fearful responsibilities of eternity. + +Having failed to obtain any elevated or satisfactory definition of Art +and Beauty from the men of the senses, or the men of the schools; as the +supporters of a government founded upon a belief in the virtues of the +people, we turn to them in our despair to ask for deeper insight into +these important subjects. Alas! they are as yet too busy and too +ignorant to formulate for us a definite reply! But from them must come +the sibylline response, for the true artist has no home upon earth save +the heart of humanity! The kingdom of the Beautiful belongs not +exclusively to the luxurious, nor to any aristocracy of the refined and +cultivated, but, like the blue depths of God's heaven arch, spans the +world, everywhere visible, and everywhere beneficent! + +As they may not formulate for us a definite reply, let us place our ears +close to the throbbing heart of the masses, that we may hear what effect +the Beautiful, as manifested in art, has upon the electric pulses. And +now our despair passes forever, for men made in the image of God, when +not degraded by a corrupting materialism, nor lost in the bewildering +mazes of a luxurious sensualism, nor puffed up with the vain conceit of +the limited understanding, and thus holding themselves above all the +high enthusiasm and holy mysteries of art, always seem able to recognize +that which awakens in them noble thoughts or tender feelings; so that +when a poet sings to them of heroism, of liberty, of fraternity, of +justice, of love, of home, of God, if he can succeed in causing their +hearts to throb with generous emotions, they stop not to consult the +critics, they listen only to the voice of their own naive souls, and at +once and with one accord enthusiastically cry: 'Beautiful! beautiful! +how beautiful!' La Bruyère himself says: 'When a poem elevates your +mind, when it inspires you with noble and heroic feeling, it is +altogether useless to seek other rules by which to judge it; it is--it +must be good, and the work of a true artist.' Such is really the +criterion consulted by the people, and on this broad and just base rests +the general correctness of their judgments. + +Uncultured as they may be, is it not, indeed, among the people that we +see the most vivid sympathies with the really great artists, the true +poets? It is among them we most frequently find that glowing enthusiasm +which excites and transports them until they lose all selfish thoughts; +contrasting strongly with the measured calm, the still and prudent +reserve of the elite, the connoisseurs, which an impassioned artist +(Liszt) truly says 'is like the glacés on their own tables.' Let the +artist but strike some of the simple but sublime chords which, the +Creator has tuned to the same harmony in human bosoms, and they will +respond from the heart of the people in an instantaneous thrill of noble +instincts and generous emotions. It is ever with the people that the +artist meets with that profound and _loving_ admiration which so greatly +increases his own powers, and which always leads them to noble acts of +devotion for those who have succeeded in touching the harmonizing chords +vibrating through the mighty bosom of humanity made in the image of God! + +If we would learn something of the effect of art on the soul, and +understand the secrets of its power, we should go to a representation of +one of Shakspeare's tragedies, and mark the attentive crowd silently +contemplating the high scenes which the poet unrolls before them. +Immersed in poverty and suffering as they may themselves be, we will see +that at the words 'glory, honor, liberty, patriotism, love'; at the +sight of the courageous struggle of the just against the unjust; at the +fall of the wicked, the triumph of the innocent,--the furrowed and +rugged faces glow with sympathy, all hearts proclaim the loveliness of +virtue, or are unanimous in the condemnation of vice. Full of just +indignation against the aggressor, of generous sympathy with the +oppressed, shall the palpitating throng stay the quick throbbing of +their hearts to inquire of the men of the senses if they may _admire_, +or of the critics and schoolmen if they may _approve_? Their intuitions +have already decided the question for them. Why do the masses always +accord in their estimation of the just and unjust? why do they always +agree about glory and shame, vice and virtue, courage and cowardice? why +do they always find Beauty in the success of suffering virtue, the +triumph of oppressed innocence, the rescue of the wronged and helpless? +The answer throws its light over the whole world of art: Because God's +justice, even when it condemns themselves, is one of the Divine +attributes for whose enjoyment they were created; because it stands +pledged that whatever may be the disorder visible upon earth, it will +rule in awful majesty over the final ordering of all things. The soul, +urged on by an unconscious yet imperative thirst for the Absolute, +having in vain tried to find its realization in a world furrowed by +vanities and scared by vices, takes its flight to the clime of the +ideal, to find there the growth of eternal realities. The poet builds +ideal worlds in which he strives to find the absolute, adorning them +with all the beauties for which the human heart pines: heroism, +patriotism, devotion, love, take form and find appropriate expression; +for all is wisdom, power, liberty, and harmony in the artistic realms. +Art is a celestial vision which God sends to his exiled children, to +give them news of the invisible world for which they were created, to +soothe their sorrows, to turn their thoughts and affections to their +true centre. Art is the transient realization, the momentary possession +of the desires of the soul! + +There is then a Beauty inaccessible to the senses, above the narrow +limit of technical laws, which a simple and uncorrupted people +intuitively feel and love, for which the masses reserve their most +profound admiration, and which it is unquestionably the province of the +true artist to manifest through whatever medium he may have chosen as +his specific branch of art. The delight felt in the Beautiful arises +from the fact that it manifests or suggests, in a greater or less +degree, some portion of the Divine attributes for whose enjoyment we +were created. Is it not then time that the good and earnest men of our +own broad land should cease to ignore, if not to persecute, art; should +indeed reverently pause to inquire into the resources and capabilities +of the mighty symbolism used and wielded by the fine arts? + + + + +THE VALUE OF THE UNION. + + +I. + +We are engaged in a life-and-death struggle for our national +existence--for the preservation of the Union, for these are synonymous. +To succeed, we need an animating spirit that shall carry us through all +obstacles; that shall smile at repeated defeat; that shall ever buoy us +up with strong hope and confidence in the ultimate success of our +efforts. Such a spirit cannot flow from a simple love of opposition, +excited by the wicked bravado of our opponents; nor from a desire to +prove ourselves the stronger: neither can it flow from the mere wish to +destroy slavery. None of these motives singly, nor all of them combined, +are sufficient to sustain us in this hour of trial, or to carry us clear +through to the desired goal. The only motive which can do this, and +which, in the heart of every loyal man, should be of such large +proportions as immensely to dwarf all lower ones, is one that can flow +only from a clear comprehension of the value of the Union, coupled with +a conviction, arising out of this intelligent valuation, that the Union, +being what it is--containing within itself untold, and yet undeveloped +blessings to ourselves and to the human race at large--is nothing less +than a most precious gift of God; given into our charge, to be ours as +long as we deserve its enjoyment by our individual and national +adherence to truth and right; a conviction also, that our Union, from +the very marked Providential circumstances attending its establishment, +is in no small sense a divine work; and hence, that we may rest in the +sure hope that God will not permit His own work to be destroyed, except +by our refusing to coöperate with Him in its preservation. + +All our blessings, natural and spiritual, are enjoyed by us only in the +degree of our free and voluntary coöperation with the intentions of the +Divine Giver. No good thing is forced upon us, and nothing that we ought +to have is withheld if we put forth the power granted us to obtain it. +The atmosphere surrounds us, but the lungs must open and expand to +receive it. The food is before us, but the mouth must open, and the +hands convey it thither, or it is of no service. Light flows from the +sun, but the eye must open to enjoy it. And so with the blessings which +we enjoy in the Union; we must use our active powers to profit by them; +and at this crisis we must not only act to enjoy them, but must strain +every nerve to preserve them. The nation is now on its trial, to be +tested, as to whether it adequately values the divine gift of the Union. +If it does thus value it, it will use diligently and carefully all the +abundant resources which lie around it and within it, like an +atmosphere--wealth, population, energy, intelligence, mechanical +ingenuity, scientific skill, and all the needed _materièl_ of warfare. +It is rich in all this, far more so than the South. All this, Providence +lays at the feet of the nation. It can do no more. The nation, as one +man, must now do _its_ part, or continue to do as it has done; it must +coöperate, must put forth a determined _will_--a will tenfold more +resolute, more fixed and immovable to preserve the Union, than is that +of its enemies to destroy it. This will cannot exist without a clear, +intellectual appreciation of the worth of the Union; of its value as an +agent, which, if rightly employed, will continue to develop increasing +power to humanize and Christianize men, and to elevate, to broaden, and +intensify human life and happiness more than any form of political +institution that the world has ever witnessed. + +Full of this conviction, we shall then, individually and collectively, +be resolved that this noble continent, stretching three thousand miles +from ocean to ocean, and opened like a new world to man, just at an +epoch when religious and political liberty, starting into life in +Europe, might be transplanted into this virgin soil, where thus far they +have developed into this fair republic--we shall then be resolved that +this broad, rich territory shall be forever devoted + + To man's development--not to his + debasement. + + To liberty and free order--not despotism + and forced order. + + To an ever-advancing civilization--not + to a retrograding barbarism. + + To popular self-government--not to + the rule of a slave-holding oligarchy. + + To religion, education, and morality--not + to irreligion, ignorance, and + licentiousness. + + To educated and dignified labor--not + to brutalized labor under the lash. + + To individual independence and + equal rights--not to individual + subjugation to caste. + + To peace--and not to border wars between + conflicting States. + + To unity, harmony, and national + strength--not to disunity, civil discord, + and subjection to foreign + powers. + +All these blessings on the one hand are guaranteed in the Union, and +only there--all their opposite horrors are involved as inevitably and +certainly in the Southern lunacy, resting on slavery and secession as +its corner stones! Madness most unparalleled! + +We will look now at a singular and beautiful fact--for fact it is, +account for it as we may. It is this: The course of civilization upon +this globe has apparently followed the course of the sun. Sunlight and +warmth travel from east to west. The moral and intellectual illumination +of the nations has travelled the same route. From central or farther +Asia, it goes to Assyria, and successively to Egypt, to Greece--thence +to Italy and Rome--then to western Europe, England, France, Spain. From +thence it leaps the Atlantic. The Bible, church, and school house, with +the Pilgrims and other colonies, scatter the primeval darkness and +savagism from the Atlantic coast. Still 'westward the march of empire +takes its way' to the Alleghanies, to the Mississippi; thence, by +another leap, across two thousand miles of continent, where it sparkles +with a golden lustre on the queenly California, enthroned upon the +far-off Pacific shore (yet by the miraculous telegraph within whispering +distance). There the newest and highest civilization comes face to face +with the oldest on the earth--hoary with ages; greets it in China across +the wide Pacific, and the circle of the globe is joined. + +Now the civilization inaugurated upon our continent, in these United +States, may be said to be, indeed is, the result of all that have +preceded it. It combines somewhat of the elements of all the +civilizations that have been strung along the earth's eastern +semi-circumference, besides others, peculiar to itself. And why should +it not be considered as the bud and opening flower growing out of the +summit of all the past, and for which the long ages have made toilsome +preparation. Long time does it take for stem and leaves to unfold, but +in the end comes the flower, and then the fruit. But here, in this bud +of splendid promise, the American Union, lurks the foul worm of slavery, +threatening to blast the fondest hopes of mankind by destroying this +glorious augury of a mature civilization, where man shall develop into +the full earthly stature of a being created in the divine image. Shall +it be? Not if the North is faithful to God, to mankind, and to itself. + +Let us take courage. The westward-travelling sunbeams have ever to +oppose the western darkness, but they conquer always. So American +civilization, also, has its darkness and barbaric elements to battle +with, but they too, God willing, shall vanish before it. + +Why have we been forced into this desperate, unexpected conflict? One +reason may possibly be, that by it, we may be aroused to a living sense +of the great value of our inheritance, the Union, when threatened with +its loss. 'Blessings brighten as they take their flight.' Benefit's +daily enjoyed, with hardly a care or effort on our part, are not prized +as they should be. When, however, we are threatened with their loss, we +awaken from indifference. A new sense of their value springs up, and a +severe contest for their preservation stamps their true worth indelibly +on the heart. Threaten to cut off the air a man breathes, the food and +drink that sustains him, and you rouse all his energies into new life; +and he now prizes these common but unthought-of blessings as he never +did before. And so it will be one effect of this contest, to arouse us +as a nation to see clearly our vantage ground in the world's progress, +and to stir us up as individuals, to lead higher and truer lives, each +for his own and for his country's sake. And when this Southern insane +wickedness is quelled, and the great American nation can rest and +breathe freely once more, it will then calmly ponder the past, and +survey the future. In the degree of its religion and virtue, and next of +its intelligence and energy, it will, in the course of time, clearly +perceive and wisely inaugurate a new social and industrial life, which +will be as far in advance of the present system of free labor as the +latter is itself in advance of slavery. What that is, cannot here be +stated. It will, however, be but the inevitable result of agencies and +influences now at work, and only interrupted and endangered by this +pro-slavery rebellion. + +With these remarks, we enter upon our topic: 'Why is the Union +priceless?' + + * * * * * + +There are two reasons, among others, why it is so, upon which we shall +dwell at some length. + +The first is involved in the great fact that such is man's nature as +bestowed by the Creator, that only in the society of his fellows can +that nature be developed into all its grandeur, and thus bestow and +receive the utmost amount of happiness. The old adage, 'the more, the +merrier,' might be truly amplified in many ways. When numbers are +engaged in common pursuits, common interests, common views, common +joys--each one zealous, earnest, life-giving and life-receiving--the +happiness of the whole flows in upon each, and multiplies it a +thousandfold. + +Now if we look at history, keeping in mind the fact that the sole end of +the Creator is the happiness of his creatures, and that this happiness +is multiplied in proportion to the number of those who can be brought +into accord and concert of action (and action, too, as diversified as +possible)--looking at history, we say, under the light of this fact, it +would seem as if Providence, in the course of human events, was in the +continual effort, so to speak, to bring mankind into ever closer, more +harmonious, and more multiplied and diverse relations; ever striving to +mass the human race more and more into larger and larger communities; +the different portions of which should still retain all the freedom they +were prepared for, or needed to enjoy, while at the same time, they were +in close but free membership with the common body and its central head. + +We say that this seems to be the aim of Providence; while on the other +hand, there is just as evidently to be seen the working of an opposing +force, viz., human selfishness, human ignorance, individual ambition, +ever seeking its own at the expense of others. A selfish, energetic, +and ignorant spirit of individualism (as distinguished from an +enlightened, large-minded, _social_ individualism, which only becomes +more marked and healthily developed by wide social intercourse), has in +all ages tended to split up society into smaller parts, animated by +mutual rivalry, jealousy, and hostility. When these antagonisms have +been carried to a certain length the evil cures itself, by the rise of a +despotism, which, as the instrument in the hands of Providence, brings +all these clashing communities under a strong government, that binds +them over, as it were, to keep the peace. By this, leisure and +opportunity are given for the cultivation of the arts, the sciences, and +industries, which tend to humanize men, and lessen the restless war +spirit. + +Thus the massing of many petty and warring tribes of barbarians into one +large nation, and under a strong despotic monarchy, without which they +could neither have been brought together nor kept together, is so much +gained for human progress. + +After this has continued for a time, when certain changes, certain +ameliorations have been effected in the intellectual, social, and moral +character of the nation, from the cultivation of the arts of peace, it +is then allowed to be broken up, as the period may have arrived for the +infusion of new elements and agencies of social progress which shall +place men upon a higher plane of national existence. It falls to pieces +through its own corruption and degeneracy, or by the invasion of +stronger neighbors. It is swallowed up by the destroying force, and its +people, its institutions, its ideas, its arts and sciences, its customs, +laws, modes of life, or whatever else it may have elaborated, become +mingled with those of surrounding nations, and a new political and +social structure, formed out of the old and the new elements recombined +anew and useless matter eliminated--stands forth in history; a structure +tending still more than previous conditions to raise men in the scale of +civilization--to bring them into closer relations--to enlarge and +multiply their ideas--to quicken their moral and social impulses--to rub +off the harsh angles of a selfish, narrow-minded individualism, and, in +a word, to advance them yet more toward that degree of virtue and +intelligence which is absolutely indispensable to the union of large +masses of men into a nation, whose political system shall at once unite +the utmost freedom for each individual with the most perfect general +order also. + +For the establishment of such a government we think the world has been +carried through a long educational process; for in such a government, +men will find the greatest earthly happiness, and also the greatest +facilities and inducements to live in such a way as shall secure the +happiness that lies beyond. And we think that the course of events in +history will show that such a method as that described has been pursued +by Providence, gathering men from the isolation and warfare of petty and +independent tribes, into large despotisms, where the lower, rude, and +selfish passions of wild men being held in restraint, some opportunity +is given for peaceful pursuits and the development of a higher range of +mental qualities--breaking these despotisms up again at certain periods, +and massing their constituent elements into larger or differently +constituted governments, with new agencies of progress added, according +as human mental conditions and needs required. + +That those great ancient monarchies, as the Assyrian, Persian, etc., had +this effect, cannot well be doubted. But in the rise and fall of the +great Roman empire, this appears very plainly. How many nations and +small communities--far and near--isolated, independent, and more or less +engaged in wars among themselves or in the constant apprehension of +it--how many, we say, of such communities were gathered under the broad +wings of the Roman eagle! From Spain and England on the west, to the +borders of India on the east--from the Baltic on the north, to the +deserts of Africa on the south--all were brought under the Roman sway; +were brought under a common tranquillity (such as it was), under a +common government, common laws, a common civilization more or less. All +these countries were raised from a lower to a higher condition by their +subjection to Roman domination. How far superior in England was the +Roman civilization, its laws, manners, institutions, to the rude +Anglican and Saxon life! + +Rome thus established a grand humanizing unity over all these different +regions, which otherwise had remained divided, hostile, or isolated from +each other. + +In the next place, through the instrumentality of this Roman unity, +Christianity was established with comparative ease over the greater part +of the then known world. This would perhaps have been very difficult if +not impossible had these regions been occupied by a multitude of +independent, and most likely, warring sovereignties. + +Christianity thus widely planted, and firmly rooted upon this Roman +civilization and by means of it, and this civilization, now perfected as +far as it was capable of being, or standing in the way of further human +progress, the empire fell to pieces, to make room for a new order of +things, in which Christianity, the remains of Roman civilization, and +the peculiar features of northern barbarian life, were the ingredients. +These elements, after numberless combinations, dissolutions, and +reconstructions, have resulted in the civilization of modern Europe. The +progress toward this civilization has everywhere exhibited a constant +tendency to larger and larger national unities--parts coalescing into +wholes, and these into yet larger units. Witness the reduction of the +number of German principalities, from one hundred or more to forty in +the present day--the movement now on foot in Germany for a federal union +among these forty--also the new Italian nationality. These we mention +but incidentally, not intending here to trace the steps of this advance. + +This progress toward unity has also been accompanied with a constant +though slow advance in the principles of religious and political +freedom. + +But now, out of this European civilization, the result itself of the +breaking up of the Roman semi-pagan, semi-Christian empire, and the +multiplied interminglings, changes, and reconstructions of the +Roman, the ecclesiastical, and northern barbarian elements--out +of this European civilization, with its movements toward large +nationalities--its progress toward religious and political freedom, and +toward the acknowledgment and recognition of human rights; the +substitution of constitutional monarchies for absolute, and the creation +of representative bodies from the people as part of the government--out +of all this, there springs as the fruit of all the long turmoil, the +wars, the blood and treasure, the groans and tears, the martyrdoms of +countless human lives, that during these long ages have, apparently in +vain, been offered up in the cause of liberty, of order, of national +peace, unity and freedom, of the right of man to the full and legitimate +use of all his God-given faculties--there springs, we say, as the fruit, +the result of all this suffering, our glorious American republic! our +sacred--yes, our sacred Union! The fairest home that man has ever raised +for man! To lay violent hands on which, should be deemed the blackest, +most unpardonable sacrilege. It is the actualization of a dazzling +vision, that may have often glowed in the imagination of many a patriot +and statesman of olden times--which he may have vainly struggled to +realize in his own age and nation, and died at last, heart-broken, amid +the carnage of civil strife. + +Our republic, we repeat, is the fruit of European struggles. If Europe +had not passed through what she has, the United States would never have +arisen. The principles of religious and political liberty sprang to +birth in Europe, but there they have been of tardy growth, because +surrounded and opposed by habits and institutions of early ages. They +needed transplantation to a new and unoccupied soil, where they could +enjoy the free air and sunshine, and not be overshadowed by anything +else. + +Here then we have our American civilization, formed out of what was good +in European, combined with much else that has had its origin upon our +own shores--the result of free principles allowed _almost_ unobstructed +play. + +Let us survey the many elements of unity which we possess. + +First in large measure, a common origin, viz., from England--that +country of Europe farthest advanced of any other in religion, in +politics, in freedom, and in science and industry. + +Next, a common birth, as it were, in the form of numerous colonies, from +the mother country; planted almost simultaneously, it may be said; +possessed of common charters, which differed but slightly--containing +systems of colonial administration, full of the spirit of popular rights +and representation. + +Next, a common language, a common literature, a common religion, and +common interests, that should bind us together against all foes. + +Lastly, a common territory, washed by the two remote oceans--a +territory, in the present advanced state of science and of improved +modes of travel and of communication, without any material dividing +lines or barriers; but having, on the contrary, an immense river in the +centre, stretching its arms a thousand miles on either side, as if on +purpose to keep the vast region forever one and united. + +Never was the birth of a nation so full of promise--so full of all the +elements of a prosperous growth. If any one event can be said to be, +more than another, under the divine guidance, then, all the +circumstances attending the colonization of these shores and the +formation of this Union, have been most minutely and marvellously +providential. 'Here at last,' we may conceive some superior being to +exclaim, who from his higher sphere has watched with deep sympathy the +weary earth-journey of the human race, 'here at last, after these long +ages of discipline and suffering, has a long desired goal been reached. +Here a portion of the human family, having attained to such a degree of +virtue and intelligence, combined with skill in political arrangements, +and a commensurate knowledge of art, and science, and industrial +pursuits--may be intrusted with liberty proportioned to their moral and +intellectual advancement. Here they shall begin to live unitedly, more +and more in accordance with the divine intentions than man has ever yet +done. Millions on millions shall here be banded together into one vast, +free, yet orderly community, where each individual shall enjoy all the +liberty to which he is entitled by his moral character, and possess all +possible facilities for the full and healthy development of his entire +nature. Here, under the combined influence of true religion, +intelligence, and freedom--and these must go hand in hand--the millions +composing this great nation must become ever more and more united, +prosperous, and happy. + + * * * * * + +This then, is the first reason why the Union is priceless--because in +this Union, Providence appears to have reached an end, a goal, to which +it has long been in the effort to conduct the human race, viz., the +bringing a larger and more rapidly increasing population into a more +free, united, and happy life, one more in accordance with human wants, +and with the measureless divine benevolence, than has ever yet been +brought about in the annals of mankind. + + * * * * * + +We proceed now to consider the second reason why the Union is priceless. + +This reason lies in the _method_ of the organization of this Government. + +What is this plan or method? + +We reply that the immense value of the Union rests also upon the +incontrovertible fact (perhaps not widely suspected, but evident enough +when looked for) that the system of government of these United States, +the mode in which the smaller and larger communities are combined into +the great whole, together with the working of all in concert, _comes the +nearest of any other political structure to the Creator's method of +combining parts into wholes throughout the universe_. + +Wherever we behold a specimen of the divine creative skill, whether in +the mineral, vegetable, animal, or human kingdoms; whether it be a +crystal, a tree, a bird, or beast, a man, or a solar system, in all +these we observe one universal method of grouping, common to all +conditions. This method is that of grouping parts around centres, and +several of such groups around larger centres, upward and onward +indefinitely; while in living beings, according to their complexity, +each individual part, and each individual group of parts with its +centre, _is left free to move within its own sphere, yet at the same +time is harmonized with the movements of its neighbors through the +medium of the common centre_. + +Every such work of the Creator is an _E pluribus unum_, a one out of +many--a unit composed of many diversified parts, exhibiting a marvellous +unity, with an equally wonderful variety. Look at yonder tree, examine +its parts, leaves, twigs, branches, trunk, all endowed with a common +life. Yet each little individual leaf lives and moves freely upon its +centre or twig, which is a common centre for many leaves. Many little +twigs in their turn, each free to move by itself within a certain limit, +are ranged along their common centre, a branch. Many branches cluster +around a large one, and all the largest branches in their turn cluster +around the common trunk, or great centre supporting the whole fabric. +Each leaf and twig and branch contributes its share to the life of the +whole tree, and is in turn supported by the general life and circulating +sap. + +All this is repeated with far greater fulness and complexity in the +living animal, or in the human body. How numerous are the parts +composing a single organ! How many organs go to one system, how many +systems, bony, muscular, fibrous, circulatory, nervous, combine to make +up the entire body! Then again, all the members of the body move, +_within a certain limit_, in perfect independence of all the rest. The +finger can move without the hand, the hand can move without the arm, the +forearm without the upper arm, the entire arm without any other limb; +and yet all the parts of one limb, and all the limbs together, are +harmonized in action by the central brain. + +So also in the solar system. The moons move around the planets; the +planets around the sun; our group of suns around their magnetic axis, +the milky way; yet each of these heavenly bodies rolls freely in its own +orbit. In all these instances we have the great problem solved, of +reconciling liberty with order, liberty of the individual parts with +perfect order in the whole. + +As far then as human governments imitate this divine method of +organization seen in created objects, so far do they solve this problem +in the sphere of political arrangements, making due allowance of course +for the disturbing influence acting in man's own mental constitution, by +reason of his fall from the innocence and holiness in which he was +created. It is just because this divine and universal method has been +unconsciously followed by the good and wise and immortal framers of the +national Constitution, and also because the morality and intelligence of +the people were adapted to this wise political structure, that the +American nation has prospered as it has, and become the envy of the +world. + +Is it asked in what consists this resemblance? We reply that it is in +the grouping of + + Individuals into townships; + + Of the townships into counties; + + Of the counties into States; + + Of the States into the national Union, with a central government. + +The township acts in township affairs through its officers, who +collectively compose its centre, and harmonize the actions of all the +individuals of the township in all matters which concern that individual +township. Through their officers, the people of the township act freely +together within the lawful sphere of the township. The common wants of +the township are attended to by the people through their officers, who +compose the centre around which all township action revolves. + +A number of townships, having common wants, are erected into a county. +The county officers and county court form the harmonizing centre of this +larger organization. + +A number of counties, having common wants, are erected into a State, +with a State government. This is the harmonizing centre, concentrating +the efforts of as many counties, townships, and individuals as may be +requisite to accomplish an object in any portion of the State, or in the +whole of it. At ten days' notice by its Governor, Pennsylvania sent near +one hundred thousand men into the field. Without political organization +this could never have been effected. What a power is here exhibited, and +yet all emanating directly from the people, without coercion of any +kind, beyond respect for their own-made laws! The spectacle is truly +grand. + +Finally, the States altogether have common wants, which only a central, +national government can supply. (Oh the deep wickedness or trebly +intensified insanity of secession! Language fails to express the utter +madness of the rebel leaders: the recklessness of a suicide is nothing +in comparison; for here are eight millions of men intent upon their own +destruction; fighting the North like fiends, because it would rescue +them from themselves, and save both North and South from a common abyss +of ruin!) The national government alone is strong at home and respected +abroad. It alone can concentrate the energies and resources of +thirty-four States, and of thirty-one millions of people, into any one +or many modes of activity which the nation may judge best for its own +interest. It is thus resistless. No single foreign power in the world +nor any probable or possible alliance of foreign powers could hope to +effect anything, with an army of three or four millions of soldiers that +the entire republic could raise and keep in the field. Thus in union is +our strength at home, for it gives the whole power and resources of the +nation to works of common utility and necessity. Such are the +maintenance of the army and navy, the building and support of forts, +lighthouses, and customhouses, collection of the revenue, the keeping +rivers and harbors navigable, the establishment of a general post +office, and its countless ramifying branches, constructing immense +public works, like the Pacific railroad, providing for extensive coast +surveys, and the like. Then in a different department, harmonizing the +action of States by national laws, by the Supreme Court, and by the +national courts in each State, dispensing an even justice throughout the +entire Union, by deciding appeals from State and county courts. Each +State enjoys the benefits of these national functions, with the least +possible cost to itself; and were there no national government, each +State would have to provide itself with all these things, or what +proportion of them it required, at a very heavy outlay of its own more +limited resources, and would be obliged to double, perhaps quadruple its +taxes. Each State requires the means of its own defence; and as they +would all be independent sovereignties, each would be compelled, like +the European nations, to keep its own standing army, and watch its +neighbors closely, and be ready to bristle up on the least sign of +aggression on their part. The soldiers of each standing army would be, +as in Europe, so much power withdrawn from productive industry, kept in +idleness, and supported by those who were left free to labor. Each State +requires a postal system; those on the seaboard require tariffs, a navy, +etc., and in the absence of a national government we can hardly form an +idea of the endless disputes that would ensue from these and a thousand +other sources. For this reason the old federation of the States was an +experience of inexpressible value. It settled forever, in the minds of +all communities who are governed by cool common sense and not mad +passion, the utter impracticability (for efficient coöperation, and +peaceful union) of a mere league or confederacy among sovereign and +independent States. While the seven years' war of independence lasted, +it managed to hold the States together; but when peace was restored the +evils of the league were so glaring, and the dangers in the future so +imminent, that the good sense of the people saved the young nation in +time, by sheltering it under that broad, strong roof, the present +national Constitution. Thus the individual States legislate and act for +themselves in all that concerns themselves alone. But in that which +concerns themselves in connection and in common with other States, and +where, if each State were absolutely independent, such State action +would come into conflict with the wants or rights of other States, and +also be a great cost to the single State--all such common and general +matters are accomplished with uniformity and harmony by all the States +collectively through the general or central government. + +But further.--This central government itself, like the nation which it +serves, is a compound body; a unit composed of parts, each of which in +its own sphere is independent, yet beyond that sphere is limited by the +functions of the other parts. This government is a _triple_ compound, +and consists of the legislative, the judicial, and the executive +departments. + +The legislative, or Congress, declares the will of the nation. + +The judicial or judging department decides and declares the proper ways +and means, the how, the when, the persons and conditions, according to +which this national will is to be carried out, and--the executive +department is the arm and hand that does the carrying out; that performs +by its proclamations and by its civil and military agents, what the +Congress and judicial departments have willed and constitutionally +decided shall be done. + +Thus is perceived a beautiful analogy between these three departments +acting separately and yet in concert--and the will, the intellect, and +the bodily powers of the individual man. A man's will is very different +and distinct from his intellect or reasoning faculty; and both will and +intellect are widely distinct from the bodily powers. Not only are these +three distinct and totally different elements in man's nature, but only +in the degree that they remain distinct, and that they are duly balanced +against each other, and that they all act in concert--only in this +degree is the life of the individual self-poised, harmonious, and free. + +And precisely the same is true of these three functions of government. +It is essential to a free republican state that these functions should +remain distinct, and administered by different bodies. When they are all +merged into each other, and rested in a single individual or a single +body of individuals, the government is then a despotism. The very +essence of what we understand by despotism, is this massing, this fusing +together of elements that can properly and justly live and act _only_ +when each is at liberty, in freedom to be itself, in order that it may +perform its own, its peculiar and appropriate function, in harmonious +connection with others performing theirs. Despotism is the binding, +compressing, suffocating of individual life; first of the three +functions of government, which should always be kept separate, and next, +as a natural and inevitable consequence, of those who come under that +solidified administration. The nation governed by a despotism must be +moulded after the same pattern; it must necessarily have the variety and +freedom of its many constituent parts destroyed, and be massed and +melted together into a homogeneous and indiscriminate whole; only +permeated in all directions by the channels conveying the will of the +despotic head. + +Thus the province of free government is not to be conceived of as that +of restraining, repressing, punishing. This is only its negative +function. Its positive office is the very opposite, and is truly a most +exalted one. And this is, to remove every barrier to the freest outflow +of human energies. It is to give an open field and the widest scope for +the play of every human faculty consistent with right. Government does +this, by establishing order among multitudes teeming with life and +activity--each seeking, in his own way, the broadest vent for his +God-given energies. These human energies are given to men for the very +purpose that they may flow forth in a thousand modes of activity and +industry, and that, thus, men may mutually impart an exalted happiness +upon each other. These energies are to be repressed only when they are +wrong, when they take a wrong direction, when they conflict with the +welfare of the community. When these energies, these human impulses to +act, are right, when they aim at useful results, then they must have +every facility, every possible channel opened to their outflow. And the +very first and most essential condition of this free outflow of life +among multitudes is, that there be order among them--that there be some +system, some methodical arrangement whereby concert and unity of action +may be effected among this diversified life. Without this order +--without systems or common methods of action in the thousand affairs +which concern every community, it is evident that there must be +_dis_order, confusion, and clashing. The activity of each individual, +and of each class of individuals, will come into collision, and be +repressed by the like activity of others. It is utterly impossible, in a +community where there is no order, no mutually understood arrangement of +relations, duties, and pursuits; in other words, where there is no +government; it is impossible, under such conditions, for individuals, if +even of the best intentions, to live and do as they wish. For many wills +must come into conflict, unless they can be harmonized, unless they have +a mutual understanding and consent among each other that there shall be +common and well-defined methods of procedure, under the countless +circumstances in which men _must_ act together, or not act at all. + +Now, it is the true function of government to establish, these common or +general modes of procedure, termed laws, among masses, and to punish +departures from them. Government is thus the great social harmonizer of +these otherwise necessarily conflicting and mutually interfering human +energies. + +Government coördinates, harmonizes, concentrates the efforts of +multitudes. It does this by establishing and maintaining _order_, an +orderly arrangement of human activities--arrangements, methods of +procedure, which are adapted to the wants of the community, and _into_ +which men's activities flow freely and spontaneously, and without +compulsion (except in the case of violators of law), because of their +adaptation to the public wants. + +But now, what constitutes order? What is its essential nature? + +The answer is, that order is the harmonious relation of parts in a +whole; and parts can have no orderly, that is, symmetrical and +harmonious, relation to each other, except through their relation to a +common centre. + +Order is the _sub_ordination of things, of things lower to something +that is higher; and _sub_ordination is the ordination or ordering of +parts _under_ something that is above--something to which the rest must +_con_form, that is, must form themselves or be formed _with_ it, in +harmony with it, if order is to result. + +This something is thus, of course, that which is central--the chief +element in the group; that which is the most prominent feature, and +which gives character to all subordinate parts. + +It is thus clearly evident that the very essence of government, of +order, of harmony, of subordination, is the grouping of individual parts +around centres; of these compound units as larger individuals, around +some higher centre again, and so on, until a limit is prescribed by the +very nature of the thing thus organized into an ascending series of +compounds. + +This method of grouping and organizing parts into wholes, is, as we have +already seen, the divine method; and, of course, being such, as has also +been said, it is seen in every created object--in minerals, plants, +animals, and in the systems of suns and planets. + +It is the method of man's bodily organization, and much more, if +possible, is it the method of his mental organization. Man's mind +consists of powers of affection and thought. His affections, loves, +desires, or whatever they may be termed, all group themselves around +some leading motive, some ruling passion, which is central for a part or +the whole of a lifetime. All minor motives and ends of action are +subordinate, and only subservient as a means to satisfy the central, +dominant passion. They revolve around it, like satellites around their +primary, or like planets around their sun. + +His thoughts, likewise--the method of his intellectual operations, obey +the same law. In every subject which he investigates, he marshals a +multitude of facts around central principles or conclusions. He shuts +them up under a general, chief, leading fact or law. A number of +conclusions, again, are marshalled around one still more general and +comprehensive, and thus he mounts up into the highest and most universal +principles. All the knowledge stored away in his mind is thus organized, +almost without his consciousness, into groups of lower and higher facts +and details, ranged under or around their central principles. + +The closer and more symmetrical is this grouping of particulars and +generals in the intellect, or, rather, the greater the power thus to +arrange them, the more logical and compactly reasoning is that mind. The +looser and less connected is this grouping, the less logical is the +mind; and when the proper connection fails to be made between +particulars and generals, between facts and their principles, or between +parts and their centre, then the mind is in an idiotic or insane +condition. + +Now, man's mental movements, being thus themselves obedient to this +great order-evolving method, then, of course, when he applies his +faculties to investigate the objects and phenomena of the outer world, +he classifies, arranges, and disposes them strictly after the same +method, because he cannot help doing so. The naturalist studies +minerals, plants, animals--and each kingdom, at his bidding, marshals +itself into order before him. Each resolves its otherwise confused +hosts into groups and series of groups, each with its own centre and +leading type. The animal kingdom has its sub-kingdoms, classes, orders, +families, and species. Botanists speak of divisions, classes, orders, +genera, and species, &c., species being the first assemblage of +individuals. + +It is, therefore, seen that, by the very necessity of the case, when men +themselves are to be massed into communities and nations, they come +inevitably under the same universal method of organization. Whether the +government be free, or whether it be despotic, it must, in either case, +be organized, and organized according to this universal method. It must +consist of parts with their centres, compounded into wholes, and of +these compound units formed into still larger ones; until the entire +nation, as a grand whole, revolves upon a central pivot, or national +government. + +But here there presents itself a vast distinction between despotic and +free governments--a distinction which arises out of the different +relations sustained, in these respective modes of administration, +between the government and the people--between the centre and the +subordinate parts. What is this difference? + +If we look around through nature, we shall find that all organized +beings, that is, beings composed of different parts or organs, all +aiding, in their several ways, to the performance of a common function, +or a number of harmonized functions--in such an organized structure, +whether it be a plant, an animal, the human body, or even the globe +itself, we shall find two reciprocal movements--one from the centre, +outward, and another from without, inward, or toward the centre; and +further, that the integrity of the life of the individual depends upon +the harmonious relation or balance between these two opposite movements. + +The individual man, for instance, is a centre of active energies that +are ever radiating from himself toward men and things around him; and he +receives from them, in return, countless impressions and various +materials for supporting his own life. What is thus true of the man +himself, is also true of the organs and systems of organs of which his +body is composed. The nervous system exhibits nerves with double +strands; one set (the motor fibres) conveying nervous force from the +centre as motor power to the limbs; the other, conveying sensations _to_ +the centre, from without. + +The heart, again, the centre of the circulating system, sends forth its +crimson tide to the farthest circumference, and receives it back as +venous blood--to send it forth afresh when purified in the lungs. + +The plant has its ascending and descending sap; it drinks in the air and +sunshine, and gives these forth again in fragrance and fruit. The very +globe receives its life from the sun--and radiates back, forces into +space. + +Human governments--human political and social organizations, are no +exceptions to this general law. Every government, even the most +despotic, while it rules a nation with a rod of iron, depends for its +life upon the people whom it oppresses. While the central head radiates +its despotic will through its pliant subordinates, down through all +ranks and classes of the community, it receives from them the means of +its own preservation. + +A free government likewise radiates authority from the central head, and +also depends for its life on the people whom it governs. What is the +point of difference between them? + +It is simply this: + +There are two elements of power in a nation. + +One is _moral_, viz., the free-will and consent of the people. + +The other is _physical_, viz., military service, and revenue from +taxation. + +The free consent of the people is the _soul_ of the national strength. + +The treasure and the armies which they furnish, constitute the _body_. + +For the highest efficiency, soul and body must act as one, whether in +the individual or in the collective man. They must not be separated. +Hence the perfect right of men who would be free to refuse to be taxed +by government without being represented--without having a voice in its +management. The _material_ support must not be given without the +_moral_--that is one form of slavery. + +But of these two elements of national strength, a despotism, a +government of force, possesses and commands only the physical or +material, viz., military service and revenue. It controls only the +_body_ of the national powers. Not resting upon the broad basis of the +free choice and consent of the people, it is like a master who can force +the body of another to do his bidding, while the spirit is in concealed +rebellion. Such a government, in proportion as it severs this national +soul from the body, is weak through constant liability to overthrow, +from any chance failure of its material props. + +A free government, on the other hand, possesses both the elements of +strength. It rests upon the free will and affection of the people, as +well as upon the abundant material support which they must ever yield to +a government of their own creation, and which exists solely for their +own use and benefit. Such a government is capable and strong in exact +proportion to the virtue and intelligence of the masses from whom it +emanates. + +Thus it is seen that a despotism differs from a free government as to +the reciprocal action that takes place between the people and the +government. In a despotism, all authority flows only in one direction, +viz., from the central head down to the different ranks of subordinate +officers, and through these numerous channels it reaches all classes of +the people. But there is no returning stream of authority from the +people to the government, from the parts to the centre. The only return +flow is that of military service and revenue. + +But a free government returns to the people all that it receives from +them. From the masses there converges, through a thousand channels, to +the central government, both the elements of national strength, viz., +authority to act, and the means of carrying out this authority, that is, +money and military service--the body, of which the popular will and +authority is the soul. The people declare their will that such and such +individuals shall be clothed with, and represent their united power, and +act for them in this representative capacity. The persons thus chosen, +and who constitute the government or central head, with its subordinate +agencies, declare from this central position of authority with which +they have been invested by the people, that such and such things are +necessary for the welfare and orderly activity of the people, and in the +name, and with the coöperation of the people, they _will_ to carry these +measures out. + +Thus life, energy, power, from the people, flow from all points to the +government, to the centre; and from the government it flows back again +to the people as _order_, as the force that arranges, methodizes, +harmonizes, and regulates the outflow of the popular energies in all the +departments of human activity. It clears the channels of national +industry of all obstacles. By its legislative, judicial, and executive +functions, it establishes, on the one hand, common methods of action +among multitudes having common interests and aims, and thus obviates +clashing and confusion; and, on the other, it punishes those who would +interfere with and obstruct or destroy this order. + +The government is the concentrated will and intelligence of the people, +directed to the wise guidance of the national life--directed to the +harmonizing of the diversified activity and industry of the nation, to +the opening of all possible channels for that activity, and to the +removal of everything that would obstruct and counteract the nation's +utmost development and progress. + +In this way, a free government exhibits, as far as human imperfection +admits, the union of the two great principles, _liberty_ and _order_. +The people are free to think, talk, write, and act as they see fit; but +since there can be no liberty, but only license, or lawlessness, without +order--without beneficent methods, symmetrical forms and arrangements, +_in which_ that liberty can be enjoyed by individuals and communities, +without conflicting with other individuals and communities, parts of the +same free whole--therefore government is created by the people to +prescribe and maintain this order, essential to this common liberty; an +order which is the _form_, or _forms_, under which both individuals and +communities shall act, singly or in concert, in the countless relations +in which the members of the same community or nation come into contact +with each other. + +Now, in the United States, the chart of this orderly and symmetrical +network of political arrangements for the free movement among each other +of the individuals in the township, of the townships in the county, of +the counties in the State, and of the States in the Union--and within +the protecting lines of which political arrangements, the people are +enabled to pursue their industrial avocations without mutual +interference and collision, and to attend in peace and security to all +the employments that tend to elevate, refine, and freely develop the +individual man (for government is only and solely a _means_ to this +great end)--the chart, we say, of all these orderly arrangements, is our +immortal national Constitution, together with the State constitutions +that cluster around it, as their centre, axis, and support. + +Through each State constitution, the national and central one sends down +an iron arm, clasping them all by a firm bond to itself and to each +other. And in each, the grasp of this arm is riveted and double riveted, +above and below, by these two comprehensive, unmistakable articles, +without which the others had else been valueless; and for which the +framers of this great instrument are entitled to our lasting gratitude +and admiration. + +The articles are these, viz.: Art. 6th, sec. 2d: 'This Constitution, and +the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof +... _shall be the supreme law of the land_ ... anything in the +constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.' + +And art. 4th, sec. 4th: 'The United States shall _guarantee_ to every +State in the Union a _republican_ form of government, and shall protect +each of them against invasion....' + +The first of these admits of no separation or secession. The second +preserves everywhere that form of government under which alone the +fullest political freedom can be enjoyed. In fighting, then, for the +Constitution, we fight for an undivided Union on the one hand, and, on +the other, for a Union that guarantees to each member of it that form of +government which secures the greatest liberty to those who live under +it. May we not, we say again, rest in an all but certain hope that the +Divine Being will see fit to preserve His own work? For such, though +accomplished through human agency, we feel constrained to believe, have +been this Union and its remarkable constitution. + +We have regarded the Union as the culmination of a long series of +endeavors, so to call them, on the part of Providence, to bring men from +a social condition characterized by the multiplicity, diversity, +separation, antagonism, and hostility of independent, warring, petty +states, into that larger, higher form of political and social life, that +shall combine in itself the three conditions of unity--variety in unity, +and of the utmost liberty with order--as the soul and life of the +political body. And that it has also been the aim of Providence, in the +formation of this Union, to accomplish the above object on as large a +scale as possible, in the present moral and intellectual condition of +the race. + +Can we be far wrong in such a view? Think of our republic embracing in +its wide extent, one, two, three, or more hundred millions of human +beings, all in political union, enjoying the largest liberty possible in +the present life, as well as the ever-increasing influence and light of +religion, science, and education, giving augmented power to preserve and +rightly use that liberty. Extent of territory in the present age, is no +bar to the union of very distant regions. When the telegraph, that +modern miracle, brings the shores of the Pacific within three hours' +time of the Atlantic seaboard--when railroads contract States into +counties, and counties into the dimensions of an average farm, as to the +time taken to traverse them--when _spaces_ are thus brought into the +closest union, it is but the counterpart and prophecy of the close moral +and industrial union of the people who inhabit the spaces. When slavery, +that relic of barbarism, that demon of darkness and discord, is +destroyed, we can conceive of nothing that shall possess like power to +sunder one section of the Union from another--of nothing that shall not +be within the power of the people to settle by rational discussion or +amicable arbitration. No! Slavery once destroyed, an unimagined Future +dawns upon the republic. The Southern rebellion, and the _utterly +unavoidable_ civil war thence arising--as these are the two +instrumentalities by which slavery will be cut clean away from the +vitals of the nation, and the Union left untrammelled, to follow its +great destiny--these twin events, we say, will, in after ages, be looked +back upon as blessings in disguise--as the knife of the surgeon, that +gives the patient a new lease of a long, prosperous, and happy life. + + * * * * * + +We have contemplated the Union, and seen something of its matchless +symmetry, beauty, and indefinite capabilities, ever unfolding, to +promote human welfare, through its unity with variety, its liberty with +order, its freedom of action of each part in its own sphere, coëxisting +with the harmonious working of all together as one grand whole--all of +which arises, as was said, from the unconscious modelling (on the part +of its authors) of our political structure upon the Divine and universal +plan of organization in mineral, in plant, in animal, in the planetary +systems, and, above all, in man himself, body and mind. + +We saw that the method of this organization was the grouping of +individual parts into wholes around a centre; of many such compound +units around a yet higher centre, and so on, indefinitely, onward and +upward. That by such an organization, individual freedom was secured to +each part, within a certain limit, wide enough for all its wants, and +yet perfectly subordinated to the freedom and order of all the parts +collectively, revolving or acting freely around the common centre and +head. We saw that in the Divine creations--in all the objects of the +three kingdoms of nature, the two great principles of liberty and order +were thus perfectly reconciled and harmonized (true _order_ being only +the _form_ under which true _liberty_ appears, or can appear); and, +further, that in proportion as human affairs and institutions obey the +same law, or, rather, in proportion as men individually and collectively +advance in virtue and intelligence, do they unconsciously, and more or +less spontaneously, come into this Divine order, both in the regulation +of personal motive and conduct, and in outward political and social +matters. + +Hence, as has already been stated, the near approach to this method in +the political organization of the United States was the result of an +amount of moral and intellectual culture, first in the colonies, and +afterward in the contrivers and adopters of our political framework, +without which it could never have been formed; and in the degree that +this mental condition is maintained and advanced yet more and more, will +the citizens of the Union apply the same method of organization to the +less general affairs of industrial and social life. Now, all this is not +fancy; human progress in the direction indicated, can be scientifically +demonstrated. + + + + +WAR SONG:--EARTH'S LAST BATTLE. + +Dedicated To + +THE SOLDIERS OF THE UNION. + + + Up with the Flag of Hope! + Let the winds waft her + On through the depths of space + Faster and faster! + Up, brave and sturdy men! + Down with the craven! + He who but falters now, + Fling to the raven! + + CHORUS: On while the blood is hot--on to the battle! + Flash blade and trumpet sound! let the shot rattle! + + Come from your homes of love + Wilder and faster! + Hail balls and sabres flash! + Wrong shall not master! + Strike to the throbbing heart + Brother or stranger! + Traitors would murder hope! + Freedom's in danger! + + CHORUS: On for the rights of man--just is the battle! + Flesh deep the naked blade! let the shot rattle! + + Men of the rugged North, + Dastards they deem you! + Wash out the lie in blood, + As it beseems you! + Glare in the Southern eye + Freedom, defiance! + Traitors with death and hell + Seal their alliance! + + CHORUS: On--shed your heart's best blood! glorious the battle! + Freedom is born while death peals his shrill rattle! + + Down with, the rattlesnake! + Armed heel upon it! + Rive the palmetto tree-- + Cursed fruit grows on it! + Up with the Flag of Light! + Let the old glory + Flash down the newer stars + Rising in story! + + CHORUS: On--manhood's hot blood burns! God calls to battle! + Flash, blades, o'er crimson pools! let the shot rattle! + + Death shadows happy homes; + Faster and faster + Woe, sorrow, anguish throng; + Blood dyes disaster! + Men doubt their fellow men: + Hate and distraction + Curse many a council hall; + Traitors lead faction! + + CHORUS: Cease this infernal strife! rush into battle! + Blast not all human hope with your cursed prattle! + + God! the poor slave yet cowers! + Call off the bloodhounds! + Men, can ye rest in peace + While the cursed lash sounds? + Woman's shrill shrieks and wails + Quick conquest urges; + Bleeding and scourged and wronged, + Wild her heart surges! + + CHORUS: Wives, mothers, maidens call! God forces battle! + Stay the oppressor's hand though the shot rattle! + + Hark! it is Mercy calls! + Will ye surrender + Freedom's last hope on earth? + No,--rather tender + Heart's blood and life's life + 'Neath our Flag's glory: + Scattered its heaven stars, + Dark human story! + + CHORUS: Strike, for the blow is love! Despots force battle! + 'Good will to men,' our cry, wings the shot's rattle! + + Up from the cotton fields, + Swamps and plantations, + Drinking new life from you, + Swarms the dusk nation. + Send them not back to pain! + Strike and release them! + Hate not, but succor men; + Sorrow would cease then! + + CHORUS: On--let God's people go! Mercy is battle! + Freedom is love and peace,--let the shot rattle! + + Oh, that ye knew your might, + Knew your high station! + God has appointed you + Guardian of nations! + Teach tyrants o'er the world, + Bondage is over; + Bid them lay down the lash, + Welcome their brothers! + + CHORUS: Pour oil in every wound, when done the battle! + Man now must stand redeemed though the shot rattle! + + On--till our clustering stars + No slave float over, + Man joins in harmony, + Helper and lover! + Ransom the chained and pained, + Nations and stations! + On--till our Flag of Love + Floats o'er creation! + + CHORUS: Strike, till mankind is free, mute the chains rattle! + Fight till love conquers strife--Freedom's last battle! + + Yes, we shall stand again + Brother with brother, + Strong to quell wrong and crime, + All the world over! + Heart pressed to heart once more, + Nought could resist us, + Earth cease to writhe in pain, + Millions assist us! + + CHORUS: On till the world is free through the shot's rattle! + When love shall conquer hate, fought earth's last battle! + + + + +MIRIAM'S TESTIMONY. + + +I do not know why it was that I studied the characters of Miriam and +Annie so closely at Madame Orleans' school, for I had known them both +from early childhood; we were of the same age, and had lived in the same +village, and attended the same schools. I suppose it was partly owing to +the fact of my having arrived at a more thoughtful age, or it may be +that their peculiarities of disposition exhibited themselves more +strongly among strangers. They were neither of them surface characters. +Miriam was too reserved, and Annie too artful to be easily understood. +But no one who had once known Miriam could, ever forget her. Her parents +called her 'a peculiar child;' among her friends the old people called +her 'queer,' and the young ones 'cracked,' She was not pretty, but +everybody pronounced her a fine-looking girl. Her eyes were the only +peculiarity in her face. They were of a rich, dark-gray color, small, +and deeply set; but at times--her 'inspired times,' as Annie called +them--they would dilate and expand, until they became large and +luminous. At such times she would relate with distinctness, and often +with minuteness, events which were transpiring in another house, and +sometimes in another part of the world. + +It was seldom that we had an opportunity of testing the truth of these +'visions,' but when we did we found them exact in every particular. + +At other times her mind took a wider range, and she would see into the +future. When we were children, I remember the awe with which we used to +listen to 'Miriam the prophetess,' as we called her, and the wonder with +which we remarked that her prophecies invariably were fulfilled. But, as +I grew older, my awe and wonder diminished in proportion, and, being of +a very practical turn of mind myself, and very skeptical of spiritual +agencies, mesmerism, and clairvoyance, and indeed of anything out of the +ordinary course of events, I put no faith whatever in any of Miriam's +visions and prophecies; especially as I noticed they only occurred when +she was sick, or suffering under depression of spirits. Annie either did +believe, or professed to believe, every word she said. As Miriam grew +into womanhood it was only to Annie and me that she confided her strange +visions, although she well knew I did not believe in their reality. We +were the only ones who never laughed at her, and she was very sensitive +on the subject. + +Annie was so beautiful that it was a delight to look at her lovely face, +listen to her musical voice, and watch her graceful motions. She fully +appreciated her own charms, and had a way of making others appreciate +them also. She had many more friends than Miriam, for who could resist +the charm of her face and manner? + +She had become quite accomplished, for she possessed a good deal of +talent, but was worldly minded, vain, and selfish. It may be matter of +surprise that such a girl should have been my intimate friend, and still +stranger that she should have been the friend of Miriam; but she was +lively and agreeable, and when we were children together we did not care +to analyze her character, and when we knew her thoroughly we still loved +her--from habit, I suppose. At all events, whatever were the sympathies +which bound us together, we continued firm friends until we were +eighteen, when we left Madame Orleans' school, where we had resided for +four years. + +At that time Annie returned to our native village, while Miriam and I +went to a Southern city, intending to spend the winter with her uncle's +family; but we liked our new home so much that we prolonged our visit +two years. After we had been there a few months, by some chance, which I +have now forgotten, Henry Ackermann came to the city where we resided. +He was a few years older than we, but had been one of our playmates in +childhood. His parents had removed from our native village, and gone to +California some years before, when the gold fever was at its height, +since which time we had heard little about them, and Henry had nearly +faded out of our recollections, until now he suddenly appeared, destined +to be the controlling fate in the life of one of us, for Miriam and he +soon grew to love one another; though what affinity there was between +their natures I never could imagine. But he told me that he loved her, +and she told me that she was very happy, and I was bound to believe them +both, and thought that on the whole they would be a better-matched +couple than most of those I saw about me. + +It is needless to say much of their courtship. Their engagement was not +made public, therefore it was not necessary to make a parade of their +affection before indifferent acquaintance, Miriam's love, like that of +all proud, reserved natures, was intense. Ackermann's attentions to her +were graceful and delicate, and he ever manifested toward her in his +whole manner that silent devotion, unobtrusive and indescribable, which +is so gratifying to woman. It was evident that he understood her +thoroughly: whether he appreciated her as thoroughly was another matter, +about which I had my doubts. + +It was true that strange rumors had floated from California to our +distant little city in regard to Ackermann. Evil rumors they were--they +could scarcely be called rumors--nobody repeated them, nobody believed +them--and yet they were whispered into the ear so stealthily that it +seemed as if they were breathed by the very air which surrounded +Ackermann. I paid no heed to them. Miriam heard them, did not care for +them--why should I? + +Months passed away--happily to the lovers--pleasantly to me. +Circumstances then compelled Ackermann to return to our village, while +Miriam felt it to be her duty to remain where she was; but she expected +to follow him in a few months at latest. He carried with him a letter of +introduction to Annie, in which Miriam told her of her engagement to the +bearer, and requested Annie to be his friend for her sake. This was soon +answered by a characteristic letter from Annie congratulating Miriam on +her choice, pronouncing Ackermann the most delightful of men, etc. + +During the winter which followed, Miriam seemed quietly happy and always +pleasant and cheerful. Henry's letters were frequent, and so were +Annie's. I did not see the former, but they appeared to afford a great +deal of satisfaction to Miriam. Annie's letters were as lively and merry +as herself, and contained frequent hints that the devoted attentions of +a certain Mr. Etheridge--a wealthy, middle-aged suitor--were not +entirely disagreeable to her; that she thought she should like right +well to be mistress of his fine mansion; with much more nonsense of the +same kind. + +I should have mentioned that Miriam had never told her lover of the +peculiar gifts of prophecy and second sight which she had, or fancied +that she had. She was too happy at the time he was with her to be +visited by her 'visions.' I thought they had ceased altogether, and I +think Miriam believed they had, and was happy to be done with them +forever. + +I was quite surprised then to see her walk into my room one day in a +hurried manner, with a face ghastly pale, and eyes unusually distended, +and gazing at me with a wild, fixed stare. She trembled exceedingly, +and tried to speak, but the words refused to come at her bidding. I was +much alarmed, and, remembering there was a glass of wine in the closet, +I brought it to her, but she motioned it away. I opened the window, and +the rush of cold air revived her. She sat down by it, and after a little +time, she said: + +'Hester, do you remember the little sitting room of Annie's, at the foot +of the back stairs, with windows opening into the garden?' + +'Yes, I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?' + +'She has had it newly furnished, and very elegantly.' + +'How do you know?' + +'Because I was there this afternoon; spent some time in it.' + +'You! in Annie's room!' + +_I_ was there, in Annie's room--that is, the only part of me that is +worth anything; my body remained here, in my own room, I suppose.' + +I saw at once that the old spell was on her again, and, as I made it a +point to fall in with her humor on such occasions, I said: + +'Well, what did you see there?' + +'I saw an open piano, and books and music scattered around. There were a +great many flowers in the room. A bright fire was in the grate, and +Pompey--the house dog--was stretched on a rug before it. A large +easy-chair, covered with blue damask, stood near the fireplace. Henry +Ackermann was seated in it. Annie was kneeling before him. He talked to +her while he stroked her hair. I heard every word that he said.' + +Here she paused. I was getting quite excited with her narrative, but I +spoke as calmly as I could: + +'You have only fancied these things, Miriam. You are ill.' + +'The _material_ part of my nature may be ill. I do not know. But the +_immaterial_ is sound and healthy. It sometimes leaves its grosser +companion, and makes discoveries for itself. This is not the first time +it has happened, as you well know. I have been particular in my +description, in order that I might convince you that I have actually +been there. You know that the description I have given is entirely +different from the appearance of Annie's room in former times. I have +never heard that she had newly furnished it. Write to her, and ask her +to describe her room to you, and you will find that I have seen all that +I have told you.' + +Finding her so calm, and so willing to reason on what she had seen, I +ventured to ask: + +'And what did Ackermann say to her?' + +'Only a very little thing,' said she, with bitter emphasis. 'That he +loved her--and admired me; she stirred the depths of his heart--I +excited his intellect; she was his darling--I, his sphinx.' + +'Are you sure it is not all a dream?' + +'I have not closed my eyes to-day.' + +I did not know what to say to her. I still thought what she had related +was but a delusion, but to her it was a reality, and I knew her outward +calmness was but the expression of intense excitement of mind. Thinking +I might divert her mind, I read to her a letter I had received but a few +minutes before. It was from my sister, who had just returned from +Europe, with her husband and children; and had taken a house in our +native village. She wished me to come to her at once. At any other time +Miriam would have manifested the greatest interest in this +communication. It had been a source of regret to her that I was +separated from this sister, who was the only near relative I had. Now +she sat, perfectly unmoved, gazing out into the sunshine as if it +bewildered her. I did not know whether she had heard a word I said. I +laid down the letter, and took up a book, glancing at her occasionally. +I continued reading for about two hours, while she sat there as if +turned to stone. Then she turned to me and said: + +'Hester, would you not like to see your sister very much?' + +'Very much.' + +'Then let us return home at once.' + +'I am very willing.' + +'Mr. Sydenham leaves here to-morrow night for New York. Let us go with +him.' + +I hesitated. It seemed such a hasty departure from the friends who had +been so kind to us, but a glance at the pale, eager face of Miriam +decided me. I consented. + +The nest day brought a letter from Ackermann. Miriam showed it to me. It +was the only letter of his I was ever permitted to read. It was a good +letter--very lover-like, but earnest and manly. It seemed to me the +truth of the writer was palpable in every line. + +'Of course this has removed all your doubts,' I said, as I returned the +letter to Miriam. + +'It has not shaken my faith in the evidence of the finest of my senses,' +was her only reply. + +Since we had left our pretty little village, a railroad track had been +laid through, it. The depot was near Annie's house. As we had apprised +no one of our arrival, we found ourselves alone on the platform when we +stepped out of the cars. + +'Let us call and see Annie,' said Miriam. + +'Before you visit your father and mother?' said I, surprised. + +'This is the hour Ackermann usually visits her.' + +'I will go with you.' + +It was but a few minutes' walk. We felt perfectly at home there. We +opened the front door, and walked in without ceremony. No one was in the +front rooms. We passed quickly through them into the little room at the +foot of the back stairs. I noticed the furniture as soon as I entered. +It was new, and was arranged pretty much as Miriam had described it. +Ackermann and Annie stood by the window looking into the garden. I am +not sure, but I think he was holding her hand. They turned as we +entered, and, for a few minutes, were speechless with amazement. Annie +was the first to recover herself. + +'What a delightful surprise!' she exclaimed, running toward us; but she +stopped before she was half across the room. Something in Miriam's +manner arrested her. Ackermann's perceptions were quicker. He saw at one +glance that Miriam knew all, and, though very much agitated, he stood, +looking defiantly at her. She took no notice of Annie, but said to +Ackermann: + +'I trusted you. You have deceived me. I believed in your love so fully +that I would have been yours faithfully until death. You lightly threw +mine away. I thought your words of love so sacred that I kept them hid +in my heart from the sight of the most faithful friends. You have made +mine the subjects of jest. But I do not come here to reproach you. +Henceforth you are nothing to me. I came to demand my ring.' + +'I have no ring of yours,' said he, with calm decision. 'This ring that +I wear you put upon my finger, and told me not to part with it under +_any_ circumstances. You charged me to wear it until death. It is mine. +I will not part with it, even to you.' + +Miriam looked at him incredulously for a moment. Her fortitude began to +give way. + +'I do not know,' she said slowly, 'why you wish to keep that ring. You +can never look at it without thinking of me, and of the words of love I +have spoken to you. It is hateful to me to think that you have anything +to remind you of the past. For this reason I want the ring. I will not +wear it. I will not keep it. I will destroy it utterly. But by the +memory of my past trust, I beseech you to give me that ring.' + +A sneer curled the lip of Ackermann. + +'I will not give it to you!' he said, decidedly. + +Miriam did not look at him now, but at the ring. It glowed on his hand +like a flame; for it was set with a cluster of diamonds. + +'It will ruin you,' she said, raising her eyes slowly, and fixing them +on his face. 'It will be your curse.' + +She turned and left the room. Ackermann looked displeased, and annoyed. +Annie was pale and frightened. I did not know whether to follow Miriam, +or remain to hear Annie's explanations. I finally decided to do neither, +and, walking out of the open window into the garden, I took another +route to my sister's. + +They say that no nature is thoroughly evil, that every man has some +redeeming qualities. This is probably true, and I suppose Ackermann had +his virtues, but I was never able to discover any. The only sides of his +character presented to my observation were evil, and wholly evil. He +loved Annie, it is true, but it was an unnatural, selfish, exacting +love. Such a love is a curse to any woman, and it was doubly so to +Annie, who loved him too entirely to see any faults in him, and was too +weak minded to resist his merciless exactions. So thoroughly selfish was +he that, notwithstanding his love for Annie, he would have married +Miriam if she had not so peremptorily broken the engagement. Miriam was +very wealthy, while Annie was comparatively poor. Ackermann himself was +worth nothing. Why he persisted in keeping the ring I never knew, unless +it was that Miriam's proud contempt and indifference roused his +malignant temper to oppose her in the only way which lay in his power. +He possessed the art of making himself agreeable, and had a very fair +seeming, so that when his engagement to Annie was made public, she was +warmly congratulated. His former engagement to Miriam was unknown, even +to her own parents. + +I saw but little of Ackermann and Annie, and never met them but in +public. His wickedness and her weakness made them both contemptible in +my eyes. And my mind was occupied in other matters. Miriam resolved to +make the tour of Europe, and I was to accompany her--for she would take +no denial. For many weeks we were busied in preparations for our +departure; Miriam had settled all her affairs satisfactorily, and we +were thinking of making the last farewells, when she was taken ill. The +doctors said it was an organic disease of the heart. This was an +hereditary disease in the family, but Miriam up to the time of her +acquaintance with Ackermann had been entirely free from any symptom of +it, or of any particular disease whatever. Whether this sudden +exhibition of it was the effect of natural causes, or was produced by +mortified love and pride, I leave the reader to conclude. + +I was her constant attendant during her sickness. She could scarcely +bear me out of her sight. She had never spoken to me of Ackermann since +the interview in Annie's room. Now she seemed to take delight in talking +about him, and I was amazed at the intense hatred with which she +regarded him. She was gentle and patient under her sufferings, and +tender and loving at all times, except when speaking of him. Then all +the bad passions of her nature were aroused. It was in vain that I +represented to her that at such a time she should endeavor to be at +peace with all the world, and forgive as she hoped to be forgiven. + +'If I have sinned against my God, as Henry Ackermann has sinned against +me, I neither expect or wish to be forgiven,'--was the only reply she +would make to such arguments. She had not the slightest feeling of ill +will against Annie; she spoke of her as a misguided, loving girl; but +often repeated the assertion that Ackermann and Annie would never be +married. + +The physicians were inclined to think that Miriam would recover from +this attack, but she knew, she said, that she must die, and she exacted +a promise from me that I would watch over her body until it was +consigned to the grave, imploring me not to let indifferent people be +with her after death. I readily gave the promise, little knowing what a +fearful obligation I was taking upon myself. + +One morning I left Miriam's bedside, and walked through the village in +order to get some exercise, and breathe the fresh air. I remember the +day well. It was in the latter part of May--a warm, sweet, sunny day, +with enough of chilliness in the air to give a zest to walking. I was +surprised at the ripeness and luxuriance of the foliage, so early for a +New England spring; but I was still more surprised at the aspect of our +usually silent village. The streets were full of men hurrying to and +fro, and groups of men, and women, too, stood at some of the corners. To +my utter amazement I learned that Annie had disappeared mysteriously the +night before. She had left home alone early in the evening, saying she +was going to the river, and had not returned. Search was made for her +during the night in all the houses of the village; that morning the +river had been dragged; but not the slightest trace of Annie was +anywhere to be found. Of course everybody was in a state of intense +excitement. Ackermann was represented to me as almost distracted with +grief, but he had been active in conducting the search for her. + +I thought it best to tell this to Miriam as soon as I returned. It +produced a strange effect upon her. It gave her a most intense desire +for life. + +'I do not desire life for myself,' said she to me, the next day, 'nor +for any happiness it could confer upon me, for it has no gift that I +value; but I wish to live that I may show Ackermann to the world, as he +is, false, and cruel, and revengeful. I feel that I would have the power +to do it, had I but health and strength; but what can a dead body do? +Can the soul return to it again? Where does the soul go?' + +I made no reply to this. I had gone over this ground very often with +Miriam. It was not strange that one who had had such remarkable mental +experiences should be a believer in spiritual agencies. She was also a +firm believer in all the doctrines of the Bible, but she always +maintained that this sacred book nowhere taught that the soul, on its +release from the body, went directly to heaven. She argued that it was +_impossible_ for it to go there immediately. Then where did it go? These +ideas disposed her to a mystical kind of reading, with which I did not +sympathize, and in which I never indulged. + +I stood at the window some time, looking out, but seeing nothing, for I +was thinking how strange it was that two girls so entirely opposite as +Miriam and Annie should love the same man, and he so different from +both. I was aroused by Miriam's voice hurriedly calling me. I hastened +to her side. Never shall I forget her eyes as she fixed them upon me. +The pupils were dilated, and intensely black, while they shone so +brilliantly that it seemed as if a fire were burning within them. She +spoke eagerly: + +'Promise me once more, Hester, that you will not leave my body, after +the soul has left it, until it is laid in the grave, and that you will +not let idle curiosity come and gaze at it.' + +I readily gave her this promise, thinking it was very little to do for a +dying friend. The unnatural expression faded from her eyes. She seemed +entirely satisfied. + +It was late in the afternoon that I was aroused from a sound sleep by +the intelligence that Miriam was dead. She died while asleep, without a +struggle, or a groan. I called in Mrs. Grove, the housekeeper, who had +been devotedly attached to Miriam, and we dressed her in a white robe, +and scattered fragrant flowers around her, to take away, if possible, +the horror and ghastliness of death. She did not look at all like the +Miriam I had known and loved. Her features were sharp and pinched, and +her face looked careworn, and _anxious_--if anything so lifeless can be +said to have expression. + +No one came into the room that evening but the family, and they retired +early, and left me alone with the dead. Mrs. Grove sat up all night in +the dining room, which was separated from Miriam's room by a narrow +entry. She would have remained with me, but I saw that she was very +nervous and timid, and insisted that she should leave me. I could not +understand her feeling. I felt not the slightest fear of the inanimate +body before me, or of the disembodied spirit. She had been my friend +during her whole life--why should she harm me now? + +I put out the light, and seated myself by the open window at the foot of +the bed. The round, full moon, in a cloudless sky, made every object in +the room and out of it as distinct as in the day. I looked at the +fountain, which spun its threads of light under the window; and at the +little flowers just peeping above the ground; and at the foliage, with +its many-shaded green; and occasionally I looked at the body stretched +upon the bed. And each time that I looked it seemed to me that it gently +stirred. This did not startle me at all, for I was accustomed to the +appearance of death. Who that has lost a friend does not find it +impossible to realize that the form is utterly without life? And who has +ever gazed long at a corpse without fancying that it moved? So again and +again I looked at Miriam, and again and again I fancied there was a +slight motion, scarcely perceptible. At last the constant repetition of +this feeling made me uneasy, and to quiet my mind, and satisfy myself +that it was only _seeming_, I went to the bed and bent over Miriam. + +My blood ran cold in my veins, as I encountered the eyes of Miriam, +open, dilated, and black, fixed upon mine! There was a strange light in +them. It scarcely looked like life, and yet it surely could not be +death. It seemed more like a light shining far down some black and deep +sepulchre. Half frenzied with terror, and scarcely knowing what I did, I +forced down the eyelids and shut out that hateful light; but the instant +I removed my fingers the eyes opened upon me again. This time it seemed +the expression was more life-like--there was _eagerness_ in it. Again I +pressed down the eyelids, but now there was resistance to my touch. I +could feel it. The hands, which had lain quiet on her breast, were +convulsively raised. I stepped back from the bed, and Miriam sat +upright! Incredible as it may appear, the frenzy of my terror was gone. +Miriam looked like herself. The ghastly pallor of death, the sunken +cheek, the pinched features were all there; but there was something in +the face which made me think of the Miriam of olden days--the Miriam I +had known before this last terrible sickness came upon her. I was not +entirely free from fear, but it was a charmed fear. I never thought of +calling any one. I could do nothing but watch Miriam. + +After a few convulsive efforts she got off the bed, and stood erect for +a moment. I remember thinking that all this was very strange, and +wondering what she would do next. She moved slowly to the door. I +followed her with my eyes. At the door she turned, and looked at me. And +then there rushed upon my mind the whole weight and responsibility of +the promise I had made her, that I would never leave her body until it +was consigned to the tomb! I comprehended that I must follow her, and +mechanically I obeyed the impulse. She took her way through the dining +room. Mrs. Grove was sitting in an easy-chair, fast asleep. I wondered +how she could sleep with this awful presence in the room. Miriam did not +glance at her, but passed out of the front door, into the street. My +mind was in a constant state of activity. My will was under the guidance +of Miriam. I had no control over it. My thoughts were my own, and +wandered from object to object. As we were passing down the steps I +thought how beautifully the river would look in the moonlight; but +Miriam turned in an opposite direction from the river, and I was +disappointed. How fearfully quiet was everything! I would have given +worlds, had I possessed them, if I could have seen a familiar face. I +even had a half-formed thought to scream loudly for help, but I could +not do it. My will was utterly powerless. We approached the house where +Ackermann resided, and I was seized with horror, thinking it possible +that she might murder him while I witnessed the bloody deed, powerless +to prevent it. But she never once looked at the house while passing it. +This phantom--whatever it might be--seemed to be entirely free from +human feelings. I do not think this idea tended to reassure me, and when +we left the closely built street, and merged into the open country, +where the fields stretched away on every side of us, with no life in +them, and where loneliness and desolation reigned supreme, I felt a new +terror, and longed to turn, and flee back to human life. But no! I must +follow my conductress wherever she chose to lead me! + +Miriam walked slowly at first, but had increased her speed as she +proceeded, and now she was walking so swiftly that I could scarcely keep +pace with her. I saw white marbles gleaming among the trees at the top +of a hill, and knew that we were approaching the graveyard. It was a +dreary-looking place--a disgrace to the village. The stone wall was in a +dilapidated condition, and in some places there were gaps in it. The +graves were overgrown with rank weeds, and many old gray tombstones lay +on the ground. The gate was swinging loosely on its hinges, and we +passed swiftly through it. And now, thought I, the mystery is solved. +Miriam is going to bury herself, and has brought me to fill the grave, +so that no one may see her body but me, I can never, never do it, if she +fixes those terrible eyes upon me! An open grave lay in our pathway. The +red clay soil, which was heaped around it, was moist. I felt my feet +sink in it as we passed over it--for around the grave we went on our +swift, unerring course--although I knew the grave had been that day dug +for Miriam! Did she know this? If so, she gave no sign of that +knowledge, and I breathed more freely when we were fairly out of the +graveyard. On the other side of it was a thick wood, into which I had +never penetrated. Indeed the thorny thickets, and low, poisonous bushes +made it impenetrable to any one, and yet it was into this wood that +Miriam led the way. How we pushed through it I do not know. My clothes +were nearly torn into rags, and so were Miriam's. My flesh was torn also +in several places. I had no means of knowing whether hers was torn also. + +At last she stopped before a mass of--but my heart grows sick and my +brain dizzy when I think of that--I cannot describe it, but I knew by +unmistakable evidences that the lost Annie was found! + +I looked at Miriam, but she did not return my glance. I could not see +her face. She stopped only a moment, and continued her walk. And now I +followed fearlessly. As soon as I discovered that the phantom had a +_human_ purpose, my terror abated. I was now in a state of feverish +excitement, wondering what other discoveries would be made. Our way lay +along the bank of a little brook. The space was more open. The weeds and +bushes had evidently been trampled down, and broken away. Miriam walked +more slowly, and looked upon the ground. At last she again paused, and +pointed with a rigid, bony finger to a little alder twig, which was +trembling in the breeze. I could see nothing there but a dewdrop +sparkling in the moonlight; but, obeying the impulse of my will, which +was in obedience to Miriam, I stooped to touch the dewdrop, and instead, +I took off the twig--a ring! It was the diamond ring, which Miriam had +given to Ackermann. I clutched it in my hand, and turned to Miriam, but +she was retracing her steps. + +I remember nothing of the return home. I saw nothing, felt nothing. I +seemed to be sailing through the air, so exhilarated was I. I can +compare my state to nothing but that of a person who has been taking +ether. I took but little notice of Miriam, until we entered the village, +when I observed that she walked more slowly. After a time it seemed to +be an effort to her to walk at all, until finally she tottered, and fell +close by her own door. I stood an instant, and looked at her. She lay on +the step, a stiff and rigid corpse. Her eyes were open, but they were +fixed in the glassy stare of death! I ran into the house. Mrs. Grove was +in the dining room, sleeping heavily. I was about to awaken her, when I +remembered that I would have to account for the strange fact of the body +lying at the front door. How could I tell Mrs. Grove, who had showed +herself to be a weak and nervous woman, the wonderful story of our night +walk? Would she be able to help me if she knew it? I thought of calling +upon Miriam's father, but that seemed horrible. These thoughts rushed +through my mind with the rapidity of lightning, and I ran out of the +door again, not knowing what to do. A man was standing on the step: I +suppose he happened to be passing, and stopped in amazement at the +sight; but I did not pause to look at him, or ask him any questions. I +had no time to give him explanations, for I saw the gray dawn was +breaking in the eastern sky, and feared that soon other persons might +come along the street. I gave him a confused and hurried account of how +we had thought Miriam dead, and how she had walked that far, and fallen; +and I begged him to help me carry her in the house. He consented, and +then I remembered that there was a side door, which was near Miriam's +room, and if we carried the body through that we should avoid waking +Mrs. Grove. I passed silently through the dining room, and, having +unbolted the door, I returned, and lifted the body of my poor friend in +my arms, while the stranger raised her head. And thus we carried her in +the house, and laid her on the bed. I smoothed her dishevelled hair, and +arranged her torn dress, forgetting that any one else was in the room, +until I was startled by a groan. And then for the first time I looked at +the stranger. It was Ackermann! + +My fingers involuntarily closed tighter around the ring, which, all this +time, I had kept shut up in my hand. Not for the world would I have had +him to see it then. I was more afraid of him than I had been of Miriam +during all our journey. She might be called an Avenging Angel. He was a +destroying Fiend. + +He trembled violently. He laid his hand heavily upon my arm. It was as +cold as ice, and made a chilly horror creep over me. + +'Tell me, Hester,' he said, in a hoarse voice, 'what is the meaning of +this? You and Miriam have been farther than the front door, or your +clothes would not be in this cut and ragged condition. Why do you look +at me so strangely--so horribly? Speak to me! Speak!' + +I longed to show him the ring, and confront him then with his horrid +crimes, but he looked so fiercely I dared not. It is well that I did +not. I know not what might have been the result. Justice might have been +cheated of her proper prey, and I not have been here to write this tale. +I made my escape from the room, and left him with his dead victim. + +I have a confused recollection of being surrounded with pale and eager +faces, and of telling them my wonderful story, and showing them the +ring. And then I remember nothing more for many hours, for I fell into a +heavy sleep. + +That night, so full of horrors, did not turn my hair white, or make me +ill, or cause me to lose my reason. I was subject to a nervous +irritability for some time afterward, but that passed away, and the only +feeling I have left to remind me of that terrible night is my aversion +to sit up with a dead body. I have never done it since. + +The route that Miriam and I had followed was carefully traced. Our +tracks were not discernible until the graveyard was nearly reached. +There they found the print of our shoes in the wet gravel; and in the +loose soil around the newly dug grave. On Annie was found a note from +Ackermann appointing a meeting with her on that evening when she had so +mysteriously disappeared. + +Ackermann was arrested and brought to trial. When he learned the nature +of the evidence against him it seemed to fill him with a superstitious +horror, which drew from him a full confession of his guilt, although, at +first, he protested his innocence. He gave in his confession, and met +his ignominious death with the same bold front and reckless daring he +had manifested during all his life. + +It only remains to tell how Ackermann was led to murder a woman he +loved--for he certainly loved Annie. It seems that Annie, in her light, +trifling way, had seriously wounded him by flirting with one of her +former suitors. He remonstrated, but his evident distress only urged the +giddy girl to further trials of her power. And she had an object in +arousing his jealousy, for she too was jealous of Miriam's ring. He +persisted in wearing it, notwithstanding her entreaties, and she feared +some lingering affection for the giver gave rise to the reluctance to +part with the gift. On the night of the murder, high words had passed +between them in regard to it. In the heat of the discussion, Annie had +managed dexterously to slip the ring off his finger. He struggled to +regain it. She threw it away. The quarrel now grew more violent, until +at last, in his rage, and as unconscious of what he was doing as an +intoxicated man, he struck the fatal blow, and Annie fell dead at his +feet. In the midst of his horror and remorse--for even he was filled +with horror at such a deed--he thought of himself, and provided for his +safety by hiding the body among the thorny and poisonous bushes, knowing +it would be more unlikely to be found there than if he threw it into the +river, or dug a grave for it. Creeping carefully in and out among the +thick, thorny bushes, so as to disarrange them as little as possible, he +first deposited his dead burden, and then returned to the place of the +last fatal struggle, that he might look for the lost ring. + +The moon had risen, and he could see every object with great +distinctness. He looked carefully along the ground, pushing aside the +weeds, and removing every stone under which it might have rolled. After +a few minutes' search he became conscious that some one else was looking +for the ring! He was angry with himself for entertaining such a +delusion; but still, in spite of his efforts to get rid of it, the +feeling continued. He had a dim and vague idea that something impalpable +was near him, now by his side, now before him, _never behind him_, +looking as eagerly and as anxiously as himself for the lost diamonds. He +inwardly cursed his own cowardice, for he thought this apparition was +born from his guilty conscience, and he determined to pay no heed to it. + +At last he approached a cluster of alder bushes, which he now remembered +to have been the place where Annie threw away the ring. He was about to +commence a search among these, when suddenly Miriam stood between him +and the bushes. He saw her distinctly for a moment, and then she +vanished from his gaze. He pursued her in the direction she had taken, +but no trace of her could he find. Then, recollecting how very ill she +was, he became convinced that he had become subject to an optical +illusion. But he had now become fearful and nervous, and dared not +return to the spot to renew the search. And thus it was that the ring +was left upon the twig of alder to bear witness against him. + + + + +NAPOLEON'S TOMB. + +_Written by_ HON. ROBERT J. WALKER (_then a student_) _in 1821, +on hearing of the death of Napoleon_. + + + See where amid the Ocean's surging tide + A little island lifts its desert side, + Where storms on storms in ceaseless torrents pour, + And howling billows lash its rocky shore-- + There lies Napoleon in his island tomb: + Nations combined to antedate his doom. + Mars nursed the infant in a thundercloud, + France gave him empire, Britain wrought his shroud. + Danger and glory claimed him as their own, + And Fortune marked him as her favorite son; + Science seemed dozing in eternal sleep, + And superstition brooded o'er the deep; + Black was the midnight of the human soul, + Such Gothic darkness shrouds the icy pole: + Napoleon bade his conquering legions pour + The blaze of battle on from shore to shore: + Though blood and havoc marked the victor's way, + Blest Science shed her genial ray. + Betrayed, not conquered, round the hero's sleep + The Arts shall mourn, and Genius vigil keep. + + + + +THE DESTINY OF THE AFRICAN RACE IN THE UNITED STATES. + + +Many persons may be disposed to receive with a large share of scepticism +the affirmation that there is an aspect of the 'negro question,' which +has not, within the last thirty years of ceaseless agitation, undergone +a thorough discussion. Yet such an assertion would be perfectly true. +There is one side of that question, at which, during all the fierce +excitements of the time, we have scarcely looked; and which many, even +those who have taken an active and leading part in the controversy, have +not carefully studied. + +The morality of our system of slavery has been fully and thoroughly +discussed, and may be considered as finally and forever settled, in the +judgment of all right-minded and impartial men throughout Christendom. +It may henceforth be taken as the _consensus omnium gentium_, that men +and women, with their children and their children's children forever, +cannot rightfully be made, by human laws, chattels personal and articles +of merchandise. + +The economy of slavery has been discussed. Its relations to wealth, to +industry, to commerce, manufactures, and the arts, as well as to +education, public intelligence, and public morals, are so well +understood, that it is not probable that the efforts even of Jefferson +Davis, or the whole 'Southern confederacy,' with the aid of such +transatlantic allies as the London _Times_, will be able, in respect to +such matters as these, to change or even to unsettle the judgment of +mankind. + +But there is another class of questions on which the public mind is as +unthoughtful and unenlightened, as in respect to these it is thoughtful +and intelligent. We have pretty well considered what consequences may be +expected from the continuance of slavery; but we have neglected to +inquire, on the supposition of the emancipation of the negro, what will +be his condition, what his future, and what his influence on our +national destiny. Upon such questions as these, we have, during the +controversy, dogmatized much, and thought little. They have called forth +many outbursts of passion, but very little calm, thoughtful discussion. + +There is no lack of earnest and confident opinions in the public mind in +relation to this class of questions. It is in respect to this very side +of the negro question, that prejudices the most intense and inveterate +are widely prevalent; prejudices, too, which have exerted the most +decisive influence on the controversy, through every stage of its +progress. The masses of the American people believe in those principles +of political equality upon which all our constitutions are founded. They +not only believe in them, but they cherish and love them. They perceive, +too, by a kind of instinct, what many a would-be philosopher has failed +to see, that the application and carrying out of those principles +necessarily involve the fusion of the entire mass to which they are +applied, into one homogeneous whole; that we cannot have a government +founded on political equality, consistently with our having an inferior +and proscribed class of citizens; a class from whose daughters our sons +may not take their wives, and to whose sons we are not willing, either +in this or in any future generation, to give our daughters in marriage. +Political equality implies that the son of any parents may be raised to +the highest offices in the government, and wear the most brilliant +honors which a free people can confer. And the masses of the people +instinctively see, or rather feel, that it is impossible to admit to +such equality a class to whom we deny, and always intend to deny all +equality in the social state; and with whom we are shocked at the very +thought of ever uniting our race and our blood. + +I am not now saying where the moral right of this matter lies; or +whether, in this inveterate hostility to a social equality with the +negro, the masses of the people are right or wrong. I am only affirming, +what certainly cannot be successfully denied, that while they retain and +cherish it, they will never be willing to apply to him this doctrine of +political equality. They will always resist it, as carrying with it, by +inevitable consequence, that social equality to which they are +determined never to submit. If the doctrine of political equality, so +fundamental, to our system of government, is ever to be extended so as +to embrace the colored man, it can only be done by overcoming and +utterly obliterating this social aversion. + +If it were proved to be ever so desirable to effect such a change in the +tastes and prejudices of the American people, history does not lend any +countenance to the belief that it is possible. Wherever one people has +conquered another, the conquerors and their descendants have always +asserted for themselves a political superiority for ages; and that +political superiority has extended itself into all the relations of +social life. This has taken place with such uniformity, as to impress +upon the mind the belief that it occurs in obedience to some great law +of human nature, which may be expected to baffle all attempts at +resistance in the future, as it has done in the past. The testimony of +history is, that equality can be the law of national life only when the +nation was originally formed from equal elements. But two peoples never +met on the same soil, and under the same government, under conditions so +widely unequal as the European and the African populations of this +country. The Europeans are, to a great extent, the descendants of the +most enlightened men of the world, heirs by birth to the highest +civilization of the nineteenth century. The Africans, on the contrary, +are the known descendants of parents who were taken by force from their +own country, and brought hither as merchandise, sold as chattels and +beasts of burden to the highest bidder; and have even now no +civilization except what they have acquired in this condition of abject +slavery; separated, too, from the dominant class, not only by this +stigma of slavery, but by complexion and features so marked and +peculiar, that a small taint of the blood of the servile class can be +detected with unerring certainty. If history decides anything, it is +that a system of political equality cannot be formed out of such +elements. The experience of the world is against it. + +This deeply seated aversion to the recognition of the equality of the +white man and the black man is a potent force, which has been +incessantly active in all our history, and furnishes the only +satisfactory explanation of the fact that slavery did not perish, at +least from all the Northern slave-holding States, long ago. There is, +especially in the Border Slave States, a large non-slave-holding class, +who know that the existence of slavery is utterly prejudicial to their +interests and destructive of their prosperity as free laborers. They are +so keenly sensible of this, that they regard with almost equal hatred +the system of slavery, the negro, and the slave owner. But one +consideration, which is never absent from their minds, always prevails, +even over their regard for their own interests, and receives their +steady and invariable coöperation with the slave owner in perpetuating +the enslavement of the colored man. That consideration is the dread of +negro equality. If, say they, the colored man becomes a freeman, then +why not entitled to all the privileges and franchises which other +freemen enjoy? And if admitted to political, then surely to social +equality also. + +And to many it seems perfectly clear that the universal emancipation of +the negro carries with it by inevitable necessity his admission to the +full enjoyment of all equality, political and social, and his becoming +homogeneous with the mass of the American people; and the fact that they +think so is the only adequate explanation of the inflexible energy of +will with which they resist all measures which are supposed to tend in +the smallest degree toward emancipation. And they think themselves able +to give unanswerable reasons for the bitterness with which they note +everything which is expressed by the word 'abolitionism.' They assume it +for a fact, which admits no contradiction, that the natural increase of +the negro race in this country is more rapid than that of the white man. +So far as my observation extends, the great majority of the people +believe this with an undoubting faith. It is constantly asserted in +conversation, and in the most exaggerated form in newspaper paragraphs; +although (as I shall presently show) a mere glance at our census tables +disproves it. It is also assumed, with a faith equally undoubting, that +if the slaves were all emancipated, the negro race would still increase +as rapidly in freedom as in slavery. Emancipation, it is said, would at +once cast upon the country four millions and a half of free negroes; and +by the rapidity of their increase, they would, at no distant day, become +a majority of the whole population. + +If then, it is further argued, you emancipate them, and yet withhold +from them a full participation in all our political privileges, they +will be hostile to our government, a great nation of aliens in the midst +of us, who would be the natural enemies of our institutions. An +internecine war of races, it is said, must follow. Even here it would be +well for persons who entertain such gloomy apprehensions, to remember +that if these assumptions were all true (though I will show in the +sequel that they are not), even then, emancipation could not make of the +negroes more dangerous enemies to our institutions than slavery has made +of the masters. It is also said that the only possible mode of escaping +all these horrible results, would be to admit the negro, if he must be +freed, to all the privileges and franchises of the Constitution, and +amalgamate him entirely with the mass of American society. Thus it is +taken for proved that emancipation would carry with it the equality of +the negro and the white man in all their relations. + +I believe it to be true beyond reasonable doubt, that the great majority +of the American people do at this time accept this substantially as +their creed on the question of emancipation. They do not mean to justify +slavery; they abhor and hate it; they regard it as economically, +socially, politically, and morally wrong. But they regard emancipation +as tending directly and inevitably to incorporate the negro into the +mass of American society, and compel us to treat him as homogeneous with +it. To such a solution of the question they feel an unconquerable +aversion. It shocks their taste; it violates their notions of propriety +and fitness; they resist it by a sort of instinct, rather than from set +conviction and purpose. + +Nor is there one man in a thousand of us, who is not conscious in +himself of a certain degree of sympathy with this view of the subject, +however much we may think that we morally disapprove it. With enslaving +the negro, and reducing him to an article of merchandise, or depriving +him of one of those moral rights which God has given him as a man, we +have no sympathy. But if, in full view of a proposition to break down +all the social barriers which now divide the races, so that our +descendants and those of the colored man shall form one homogeneous +people, we interrogate our own consciousness, we shall discover that +we, even those of us who have most eloquently and indignantly denounced +'prejudice against color,' are compelled to own ourselves in sympathy +with the great mass of the American people, in utter and unconquerable +aversion to such an arrangement. + +It is probable that this article may fall into the hands of some friends +of mine whose judgment I greatly respect, and whose feelings I should be +most reluctant to wound, to whom these sentiments will at first view be +far from agreeable. But for many years I have entertained them with +undoubting confidence of their truth; and at this solemn crisis of our +nation's destiny it becomes us to lay aside all our prejudices, and to +endeavor to reach the truth on this momentous question. I repeat it: +this side of the subject has not been fairly met and considered in this +discussion. The time has come when we must meet it. Emancipation is an +indispensable condition of the restoration and perpetuity of the Union, +perhaps even of our continued national existence. The one great +objection to emancipation, in the minds of the people, North and South, +is the belief, so confidently and even obstinately entertained, that it +carries with it as an inevitable consequence, either an internecine war +of races, which would destroy us, or the amalgamation of our race and +blood with that of the negro. If we mean, as practical men and +statesmen, to seek our country's salvation by means of emancipation, we +must, in some way, relieve the national mind from the pressure of this +objection. Till we do so, the masses of the people will say to us: 'We +do not approve of slavery; we abhor it; but if we are to have the negro +among us, we believe in keeping him in slavery.' All of us, who are in +the habit of talking with the people on this subject, know that almost +in these very words we are met at every street corner. We must answer +it, or in some form slavery will still continue to be the curse of our +country, and to hurry it on to an untimely and ignominious end. + +Let it be distinctly borne in mind that it is not the _moral_ equality +of the negro to the white man, which is under consideration. That indeed +is only indirectly assailed by the inveterate national prejudice of +which I speak. Those masses of the people who have no pecuniary interest +in slavery, trample on the moral rights of the colored man only because +they are made to believe themselves placed under the hard necessity of +doing so, in order to resist any approach toward that political and +social equality with him to which they are determined never to submit. +Show them how they can concede to him the former without conceding the +latter, and they will gladly do it. For myself, nothing can be added to +the intensity of my conviction not only that the colored man must be +protected in the full enjoyment of all the moral rights of humanity, as +a condition of our prolonged national existence; but that the masses of +the people never will consent to a political and social equality with +the negro race. + +How then can the public mind be assured that to emancipate the enslaved +race, to confer on them all the moral rights of humanity, does not +involve by any necessity or even remote probability, either an +internecine war of races on our own soil, or the fusion of the two races +into one homogeneous people? One answer, which satisfies many, is, the +freedmen must be colonized in some unoccupied region of the earth, where +they may be separated from the white man, and build up for themselves an +independent and homogeneous nationality. I have no controversy with this +proposed solution of the difficulty, or with the excellent men who are +advocating and promoting it, with an earnest patriotism worthy of all +honor. But I have grave doubts of the adequacy of this solution to meet +the momentous exigencies of the present crisis. At least, I feel no +necessity of resting the whole cause upon it, when there is another +solution at hand, which certainly is adequate, furnished by the very +laws of nature which the Creator has established, and so certain in its +operation, that we have only to strike the fetters from the limbs of the +poor slave, and recognize his manhood, and God will take care of the +rest, and protect our country from the evils we have so much dreaded. + +That solution is found in a great law of population. It is necessary, +therefore, that I should state this law, and prove its reality, and its +adequacy to meet all the necessities of the case in hand. + +Whenever two peoples, one of which is little removed from barbarism, and +the other having the full strength of a mature civilization, are placed +in juxtaposition with each other, on terms of free labor and free +competition, the stronger will always either amalgamate itself with the +weaker, or extinguish it. In the former case, civilization undergoes an +eclipse, almost an extinction. The homogeneous people resulting from +such a union, occupies a position in the scale of civilization much +nearer to that of their barbarous than that of their civilized parents. +Numerous and conclusive examples of this have occurred in the progress +of the French, Spanish, and Portuguese colonies in proximity to the +various native tribes of this continent. They have generally amalgamated +freely with their savage neighbors; and a deep eclipse of civilization +has in every instance resulted. When that eclipse is to end, we have not +the foresight to determine. + +The English colonies, on the other hand, in all parts of the world, have +steadily refused to enter into any marriage relations with their +barbarous neighbors, or to recognize as belonging to their community any +half-breeds springing from licentious and illicit connection with them. +Here, too, the results are almost entirely uniform. The extinction of +such barbarous tribes brought within the sphere of their competition has +been rapid and almost if not absolutely invariable; while the English +colonies themselves have preserved the civilization of the parent stock +in almost undiminished vigor. + +A mere general view of the history of European colonization in barbarous +regions of the earth, does therefore afford a very striking proof of the +truth of my proposition. And it is much to our purpose here to remark, +that the very aversion to incorporating the negro into our nationality, +which is so firmly fixed in the minds of the masses of the people, is no +new thing in our history, and no outgrowth of slavery. It is the same +national characteristic which, in all parts of the world, has prevented +the English colonist from intermarrying with his barbarous neighbor. +Call it by what hard name you please, call it 'prejudice against color,' +and denounce it as eloquently and indignantly as you may, it is one of +the most remarkable and one of the most respectable features of the +English colonies wherever found, and one of the chief causes of their +preëminence over those of other European nations, in civilization, +wealth, and power. But what it is chiefly to our purpose to remark is, +that while it is to the colonies themselves the cause of unequalled +prosperity and rapidity of growth in all the elements of national +greatness, to their savage neighbors it is the cause of rapid and +certain extinction. + +Precisely in such relations to each other will the white and colored +populations of the United States be placed by an act of universal +emancipation, the substitution of free labor and free competition for +the compulsory power of the master. And while on the one hand the +history of the colonial off-shoots of England shows that the +amalgamation of the races will not follow, it shows with equal clearness +and certainty that the rapid extinction of the colored race will +follow. Here I might rest the whole argument, with a high degree of +assurance of the soundness and certainty of my conclusion, that the +result of emancipation must be, not the amalgamation of the races, not +an internecine war between them, but the inevitable extinction of the +weaker race by the competition of the stronger. I say the _competition_ +of the stronger, because, to avoid extending this article to a very +unreasonable length, I must assume that the reader is sufficiently +versed in American history to know that even the Indian perishes, for +the most part, not by the sword or the rifle of the white man, but by +the simple competition of civilization with the Indian's means of +subsistence. + +I might, I say, leave my argument here; but to do so would be great +injustice to the subject. There are abundant and unquestionable facts, +which show to a demonstration, that the case of the negro in his +relations to the European population of this country is embraced in the +law just stated. + +In the first place, the two races are not amalgamated. Intermarriages +between them are so rare, that few of the readers of this article can +remember ever to have known one. Such marriages are regarded as +monstrous and disgraceful, though the law should, as in some of the +States, recognize them. One sentiment in respect to them pervades the +whole community, and that a sentiment of aversion. Those half-breeds +which spring from licentiousness, or even from the very few lawful +marriages which have occurred, are not accepted as standing in any +nearer relations to the white man than the pure-blooded African. In +those States where slavery has been longest extinct, and the colored man +has been relieved from all legal disabilities, the line between the two +races is as sharply drawn to-day as it was two hundred years ago. On +such a question two hundred years and more is long enough for an +experiment. The experiment already tried does prove that the +Anglo-American and African populations of this country cannot be +amalgamated, either by freedom or slavery; and those who pretend to fear +it, are either trying to deceive others for selfish and criminal +purposes, or else they are wofully deceived themselves. + +Nor are the apprehensions of those who dread the rapid increase of the +negro, at all sustained by facts. That fear of a coming internecine war +of races, in case the colored man is emancipated, which haunts some +minds, has no foundation except in ignorance of the real facts. In no +portion of our history has our colored population ever increased with a +rapidity nearly so great as the white population. From 1790 to 1860 the +colored population increased in the ratio of 1 to 5.86; and the white +population in the ratio of 1 to 8.50. If we compare them for any shorter +period, we shall always find that the white population increased the +more rapidly of the two. From 1790 to 1808, we might perhaps expect to +find it otherwise; for during that period the slave trade was in full +activity, and tens of thousands of Africans were imported as articles of +merchandise. But from 1790 to 1810, while the colored population +increased in the ratio of 1 to 1.81, the white population increased in +the ratio of 1 to 1.84, although during that period the white population +of the country was very little increased by immigration. How it has +happened that this point, which our tables of population make so +entirely plain, has been so much misapprehended, and why the prevailing +notions respecting it are so erroneous, is not easy to explain. The +above estimate also reckons all half breeds as belonging to the colored +population. (See De Bow's 'Compendium of the United States Census of +1850,' Tables 18, 42, and 71.) + +But this is not all. A careful examination of Tables 42 and 71 of the +volume above referred to, will show that the increase of the colored +race in freedom is certainly not half so great as in slavery. Indeed +there is great reason to doubt whether our colored population has ever +increased at all, except in slavery. From 1790 to 1800 the free colored +population almost doubled, evidently by the emancipation of slaves; for +during that period the slave population of Connecticut, Delaware, New +Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont was greatly +diminished, while that of New Jersey and Maryland was very little +increased. In the last mentioned the increase of her slave population +was only 21/2 per cent. in ten years, while the increase of her free +colored population was 1431/2 per cent. in the same period. These +figures leave no room for doubt that the rapid increase of the free +colored population in all that decade was caused by the fact that the +great mass of the people were honestly opposed to slavery, and therefore +the work of emancipation went on with rapidity. + +From 1800 to 1810 the increase of the free colored population was 72 per +cent., under the continued though somewhat slackened operation of the +same cause. From 1810 to 1820 the increase had declined from 72 to 25 +per cent.; for the very obvious reason that most of the Northern States +had now no slaves to emancipate, while the Southern States were holding +to the system of slavery with increased tenacity, and emancipation was +becoming less frequent. From 1820 to 1830 the ratio of increase was +again raised to 37 per cent. in ten years. By referring again to Table +71, it will be seen that in that decade, New York and New Jersey +emancipated more than 15,000 slaves, adding them to the free colored +population. From 1830 to 1840 the rate of increase declined to 21 per +cent., and from 1840 to 1850 to only 121/4 per cent., and to 10 per +cent. from 1850 to 1860. + +These figures prove that from 1790 to 1840 the increase of the free +colored population depended chiefly on the emancipation of slaves, and +leave no reason to believe that its own natural increase ever exceeded +121/4 per cent. in ten years; while the average increase of the slave +population is nearly 28 per cent. in ten years, and of the white +population 34 per cent. in ten years. Thus, beyond controversy, the +reproductive power of the colored population, always greatly inferior to +that of the white population, is yet not half so great in freedom as in +slavery. This difference is to be accounted for in great measure by the +wicked and beastly stimulus applied to the increase of slaves, that the +chattel market may be kept supplied. + +There is no reason to suppose that the increase of the free colored +population would be in a greater ratio if all were emancipated; but, as +will appear from considerations yet to be presented, much for supposing +that it would be in a much smaller ratio. How then would the case stand +on that supposition? In 1860 there were about 27,000,000 of our white +population, increasing at the rate of 34 per cent. in ten years; and +less than 4,500,000 of colored population, increasing (on the +supposition of universal freedom) in a ratio not exceeding 121/4 per +cent. in ten years. Surely, that must be a very timid man who, in this +relation of the parties, fears anything from the increase of free +negroes. A war between these two races, so related to each other, is +simply absurd, and the fear of it childish and cowardly. Slavery may +multiply the colored population till its numbers shall become alarming; +but if we will give freedom to the black man, we have nothing to fear +from his increase. + +But this certainly is not the full strength of the case. There is no +good reason to believe that the natural increase of the free colored +population is even 121/4 per cent. in ten years, but much for +suspecting that even this apparent increase is the result of +emancipation, either by the slave's own act, or by the consent of the +master. If we take our departure from Chicago, make the tour of the +lakes to the point where the boundary line of New York and Pennsylvania +intersects the shore of Lake Erie, thence pass along the southern +boundary of New York, till it intersects the Hudson river, thence along +that river and the Atlantic coast to the southern boundary of Virginia, +thence along the southern boundaries of Virginia and Kentucky to the +Mississippi, thence along that river to the point where the northern +boundary of Illinois intersects it, and thence along that boundary and +the shore of Lake Michigan to the place of departure, we shall have +embraced within the line described ten of the thirty-four States of the +Union. By an examination of Table 42, already referred to, it will be +seen that outside of those ten States the free colored population not +only did not increase between 1840 and 1850, but actually diminished, +and that all the increase of that decade was in those ten States. + +Why then was there an increase in those ten States, while in the other +twenty-four there was an actual decrease? I think this question can only +be answered by ascribing that increase to emancipation. In Kentucky, +Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, slavery is unprofitable and declining, +and acts of emancipation frequently occur. Pennsylvania and New Jersey, +before the passage of the fugitive slave law of 1850, were favorite +resorts of fugitives, perhaps partly on account of the known sympathies +of the Quakers. Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, were also resorted to by +fugitives, both on account of their easy accessibility from adjacent +Slave States, and their proximity to Canada, and also because such labor +as a fugitive from slavery is best able to do, is there always in +demand. These States have also received thousands of colored persons, +brought to them by humane and conscientious masters, for the very +purpose of emancipating them. + +From 1850 to 1860 the facts are still more striking. The increase which +occurred was not, as would have been true of a natural increase, +scattered over our whole territory, and in some proportion to the +colored population previously existing, but almost wholly, either where +the unprofitableness and decline of slavery was leading to emancipation, +or where from any cause the fugitive slave law of 1850 was not strictly +enforced. Examples of the former are Maryland, Virginia, and Missouri, +and of the latter are Ohio, Illinois, Michigan, Iowa, and even +Massachusetts and Connecticut, in the latter of which it had been +declining for twenty years previous. + +With the facts before us, then, furnished by the United States Census, +from 1790 to 1860, how is it possible to believe that the colored +population of this country has ever increased at all, except hi slavery? +How can we help seeing that it is slavery, and slavery alone, which has +swelled their numbers from a little more than half a million, as it was +in 1790, to near four and a half millions at the present time? Yet there +are millions among us that turn pale at the thought of emancipation, +lest thereby we should be overrun by the multiplication of the colored +race! There are millions who would be thought intelligent men, who think +they have propounded an unanswerable argument against emancipation When +they have asked, 'What will you do with the negro?' We may well ask what +shall we do with the negro, if we continue to multiply the race in +slavery as beasts of burden and articles of merchandise. But on the +supposition of freedom, the question has no significance. The men who +are always scaring themselves and others by such fears are either very +ignorant or very hypocritical. + +But the case will be still stronger when we come to inquire, as we must +before we close, into the causes of the facts which have just been +presented. There is no reason to believe that the slower increase of the +colored race is at all due to any original inferiority in the powers of +reproduction, or that any such inferiority exists. Its causes are to be +found wholly in the different circumstances, characters, and habits of +the two peoples. The negro is, to a great extent, a barbarian in the +midst of civilization. He is destitute of those comforts of life, that +care, skill, and intelligent watchfulness, which are indispensable to +success in rearing children in the midst of the dangers, exposures, and +diseases of infancy. His dwelling does not afford the necessary +protection from the cold and storms of winter, or from the heats of +summer: it is ill warmed and ill ventilated; he has not an unfailing +supply of food and clothing suited to the wants of that most frail and +delicate of living creatures, a human infant. Hence a large portion of +his children die in infancy. + +On the last page of the Appendix to the volume already referred to, is a +most instructive table, showing the truth of this operation. Thus in +1850 the white population of Alabama was 426,514; the colored +population, slave and free, was 365,109. In that year the deaths of +white children under five years of age were 1,650; of colored children, +2,463. That is, only two thirds as many white children died as colored; +and yet the white population was greater almost in the ratio of 7 to 6. +By running the eye down the table, it will be seen that similar facts +exist in every State where there is a large colored population. These +facts leave us in no doubt as to the reason why the increase of the +colored population is always slower than that of the white population. + +This occurs, as the table just referred to shows, under slavery, where +the pecuniary interest of the master will secure his watchful +coöperation with the parent to preserve the life of the infant. But in +freedom the same causes act upon the colored race with vastly more +destructive effect. The preservation of infant life and health is then +left solely to the care, skill, and resources of the parent. The result +is that decay of the colored race which we have seen indicated in the +census. It is essential to our purpose that this point should be made +quite plain. + +It is obvious that there is in every community a lower stratum of +population, in which wages are sufficient to support the individual +laborer in comfort, but not sufficient for the support of a family. This +not only always has been so, but it always must be, as long as +competition continues to be the test of value; and competition must +continue to be the test of value as long as the individual right of +property is protected and preserved. Nor is this, as many superficial +thinkers of our day have thought it, merely the hard and selfish rule by +which Shylock oppresses and grinds the face of his victim: it is a +necessary and beneficent law of the best forms of society which can ever +exist in this world. The welfare of society in all the future +imperatively requires that it should be propagated from the strong, the +sound, the healthy, both in body and mind, from the strongest, most +vigorous, and noblest specimens of the race; and not from the diseased, +the weak, the vicious, the degraded, the broken-down classes. Thus only +can the life and health of society be preserved age after age. This is +as necessary as it is that the farmer should propagate his domestic +animals from the finest of his stock, and not from the diminutive, the +weak, and the sickly. And it is accomplished in well ordered society by +that very law of wages just stated. As a general rule, it is the very +persons who are unfit to be the parents of the coming generation, that +are thrown into that lower stratum where wages are insufficient for the +support of a family. And just in proportion as the entire structure of +society is pervaded by intelligence and virtue, this class of persons +will abstain from marriage, by prudently considering that they have not +a satisfactory prospect of being able to support a family. It is thus +only that the horrors of extreme poverty can be avoided at the bottom of +the social pyramid. The severity of this law of wages and population can +thus be greatly mitigated and the comforts of life be universally +enjoyed; but the law itself is necessary and beneficent, and never can +be repealed till human nature and human society are constructed on other +principles than those known to us. + +To apply this to the question before us: When by the act of emancipation +the negro is made a free laborer, he is brought into direct competition +with the white man; that competition he is unable to endure; and he soon +finds his place in that lower stratum, which has just been spoken of, +where he can support himself in tolerable comfort as a hired servant, +but cannot support a family. The consequence is inevitable. He will +either never marry, or he will, in the attempt to support a family, +struggle in vain against the laws of nature, and his children will, many +of them at least, die in infancy. It is not necessary to argue to +convince a candid man (and for candid men only is this article written) +that this is, as a general rule, the condition of the free negro. And it +shows, beyond the possibility of mistake, what in this country his +destiny must be. Like his brother, the Indian of the forest, he must +melt away and disappear forever from the midst of us. I do not affirm or +intimate that this must be his destiny in all countries. In the tropical +regions of the earth, where he may have little to fear from the +competition of the more civilized white man, he may preserve and +multiply his race. Let him try the experiment. It is worth trying. + +Far be it from me to intimate that the negro is the only class of our +population that are in this sad condition. In our large cities and towns +there are hundreds of thousands of men who have no drop of African blood +in their veins, and who are more clamorous than any other class against +negro equality, who, through ignorance or vice, or superstition, or +inevitable calamity, are in the same hard lot; their children, if they +have any, perish in great numbers in infancy, and they will add nothing +to the future population of our country. That will be derived from a +stronger, nobler parentage. Their race will become extinct. Their case +differs from that of the colored man only in this, that they are not +distinguished by color and features from the rest of the population; so +that the decay of their race cannot be traced by the eye and the memory, +and expressed in statistical tables. + +We are now prepared to see why the colored population has been, for a +considerable time, declining in New York and New England. In those +States population is dense; all occupations which afford a comfortable +living for a family are crowded and the competition of the white man is +quite too much for the negro. If emancipation were now to be made +universal, the same thing would rapidly occur in all parts of our +country. The white laborer would rush in and speedily crowd every avenue +to prosperity and wealth; and the negro, with his inferior civilization, +would be crowded everywhere into the lower stratum of the social +pyramid, and in a few generations be seen no more. The far more rapid +increase of the white race would render the competition more and more +severe to him with each successive generation, and render his decay more +rapid, and his extinction more certain. + +I am well aware that this article may fall into the hands of many +excellent men who will not relish this argument, nor this conclusion. +They will say it were better then to keep the poor negro in slavery. But +they would not say so if they would consider the whole case. If slavery +were a blessing to the black man, it is so great a curse to the white +man that it should never be permitted to exist. The white man can afford +to be kind to the negro in freedom; but he cannot afford to curse +himself with being his master and owning him as his property. On this +point I need not enlarge, for I am devoutly thankful that the literature +of Christendom is full of it. + +But slavery is not a blessing to the negro, even in the view of his +condition which I have presented; it is an _unmitigated curse_. To a man +of governed passions and virtuous life, it is infinitely better to be an +unmarried freeman, enjoying the comforts of this life, and the hopes of +the life to come, than to live and die a slave, and the parent of an +interminable posterity of slaves. To a being of vicious life and +ungoverned passions, all life is a curse, whether in slavery or freedom; +and it surely is not obligatory on us, or beneficial to the colored man, +to preserve the system of slavery for the sake of perpetuating a +succession of such lives down through coming generations. + +Slavery, by forced and artificial means, propagates society from its +lowest and most degraded class, from a race of barbarians held within +its bosom from generation to generation, without being permitted to +share its civilizing influences. It thus propagates barbarism from age +to age, till at last it involves both master and slave in a common ruin. +Freedom recruits the ranks of a nation's population from the homes of +the industrious, the frugal, the strong, the enlightened, the virtuous, +the religious; and leaves the ignorant, the superstitious, the indolent, +the improvident, the vicious, without an offspring, and without a name +in future generations. Freedom places society, by obeying the law of +propagation which God imposed on it, upon an ascending plane of +ever-increasing civilization; slavery, by a forced and unnatural law of +propagation, places it upon a descending plane of ever-deepening vice +and barbarism. + +That dread of negro equality which is perpetually haunting the +imaginations of the American people, is, therefore, wholly without +foundation in any reality. It is a delusion, which has already driven +us, in a sort of madness, far on the road to ruin. It is, I fear, a +judicial blindness, which the all-wise and righteous Ruler of the +universe has sent upon us for the punishment of our sins. The negro does +not aspire to political or social equality with the white man. He has +evidently no such destiny, no such hope, no such possibility. He is +weak, and constantly becoming weaker; and nothing can ever make him +strong but our continued injustice and oppression. He appeals not to our +fears, but to our compassion. He asks not to rule us: he only craves of +us leave to toil; to hew our wood and draw our water, for such miserable +pittance of compensation as the competition of free labor will award +him--_a grave_. If we deny him this humble boon, we may expect no end to +our national convulsions but in dissolution. If we promptly grant it, +over all our national domain, we may expect the speedy return of peace, +and such prosperity as no nation ever before enjoyed. + + + + +WAS HE SUCCESSFUL? + + 'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one _lives_ + it--to not many is it _known_; and seize it where you will, it is + interesting.'--GOETHE. + + SUCCESSFUL.--Terminating in accomplishing what is wished + or intended.'--WEBSTER'S _Dictionary_. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +We go tack to look a little at the fortunes of the Meeker family. +Twenty-three years have passed since we introduced it to the reader, on +the occasion of Hiram's birth. Time has produced his usual tokens. Mr. +Meeker is already an old man of seventy, but by no means infirm. His +days have been cheerful and serene, and his countenance exhibits that +contented expression which a happy old age produces. + +A happy old age--how few of the few who reach the period enjoy _that_! +Mr. Meeker's life has been unselfish and genuine; already he reaps his +reward. + +Mrs. Meeker, too, is twenty-three years older than when we first made +her acquaintance. She is now over sixty. She still possesses her fair +proportions; indeed, she has grown somewhat stouter with advancing +years. Her face is sleek and comely, but the expression has not +improved. When she wishes to appear amiable, she greets you with the +same pleasing smile as ever; but if you watch her features as they +relapse into their natural repose, you will discover a discontented, +dissatisfied air, which has become habitual. Why? Mrs. Meeker has met +with no reverses or serious disappointments in the daily routine of her +life. But, alas! its sum total presents no satisfactory consequences. +She has become, though unconscious of it, weary of the changeless +formality of her religious duties, performed as a ceaseless task, +without any real spirit or true devotion. Year after year has run its +course and carried her along, through early womanhood into mature life, +on to the confines of age. What has she for all those years? Nothing but +disquiet and solicitude, and a vague anxiety, without apparent cause or +satisfactory object. + +As they advance in age, Mr. and Mrs. Meeker exhibit less sympathy in +each other's thoughts and views and feelings. By degrees and +instinctively the gulf widens between them--until it becomes impassable. +Everything goes on quietly and decorously, but there is no sense of +united destiny, no pleasurable desire for a union beyond the grave. + +The children are scattered; the daughters are all married. Jane and +Laura have gone 'West,' and Mary is living in Hartford. Doctor Frank we +will give an account of presently. George is a practical engineer, and +is employed on the Erie canal. William, who was to remain at home and +manage the farm, is married, and lives in a small house not far off. His +mother would permit no 'daughter-in-law' with her. She did not like the +match. William had fallen in love with a very superior girl, +fine-looking and amiable, but not possessed of a penny. Besides, she +belonged to the Methodist church, a set who believed in falling from +grace! Mrs. Meeker had peremptorily forbid her son marrying 'the girl,' +but after a year's delay, and considerable private conversation with his +father, William _had_ married her, and a small house which stood on the +premises had been put in order for him. What was worse, William soon +joined the same church with his wife, and then the happiness of the +young couple seemed complete. Mrs. Meeker undertook, as she said, to +'make the best of a bad bargain,' so the two families were on terms of +friendly intercourse, but they continued to remain separated. + +Dr. Frank, as he was called, had taken his medical degree, and, by the +indulgence of his father, whose heart yearned sympathetically toward +his firstborn, opportunity was afforded him to spend a year in Paris. +Mrs. Meeker groaned over this unnecessary expense. When she saw that on +this occasion she was not to have her own way, she insisted that the +money her husband was wasting on Frank should be charged against his +'portion.' She never for a moment forgot Hiram's interest. She had +schemed for years so to arrange affairs that the homestead proper would +fall to him, notwithstanding George was to be the farmer. Mrs. Meeker +calculated on surviving her husband for a long, indefinite period. She +was several years younger, and, as she was accustomed to remark, came of +a long-lived race. 'Mr. Meeker was failing fast' (she had said so for +the last fifteen years)--'at his age he could not be expected to hold +out long. He ought to make his will, and do justice to Hiram, poor boy. +All the rest had received more than their share. _He_ was treated like +an outcast.' + +This was the burden of Mrs. Meeker's thoughts, the latter portion of +which found expression in strong and forcible language. For she +calculated, by the aid of her 'thirds' as widow, to so arrange it as to +give her favorite the most valuable part of the real estate. + +There was a fixedness and a tenacity about this woman's regard for her +youngest child that was, in a certain sense, very touching. It could not +be termed parental affection--that is blind and indiscriminating; it was +rather a sympathetic feeling toward a younger second self, with which, +doubtless, was mingled the maternal interest. Whatever touched Hiram +affected her; she understood his plans without his explaining them; she +foresaw his career; she was anxious, hopeful, trembling, rejoicing, as +she thought of what he must pass through before he emerged rich and +powerful. + +Hiram visited home but seldom. Even when at Burnsville, he came over +scarcely once in three months. Often, when expecting him, his mother +would sit by the window the whole afternoon, watching for her son to +arrive. Many a time was supper kept hot for him till late into the +night, while she sat up alone to greet him; but he did not come. I +hardly know how to record it, but I am forced to say that Hiram cared +very little about his mother. Could he have possibly cared much for +anybody, he would probably for her, for he knew how her heart was bound +up in him. He knew it, and, I think, rather pitied the old lady for her +weakness. His manner toward her was all that could be desired--very +dutiful, very respectful. So it was to his father. For Hiram did not +forget the statement of his Sunday-school teacher, which was made when +he was a very young child, about the 'commandment _with promise_.' Thus +his conduct toward his parents was, like his conduct generally, +unexceptionable. + +For Frank, the eldest, however, Hiram felt a peculiar aversion. It was a +long time before the former entertained any other feeling for his +'little brother' than one of the most affectionate regard. By many years +the youngest of the family, Hiram, while a child, was the pet and +plaything of the older ones, and especially of Frank, who in his college +vacations took pleasure in training the little fellow, who was just +learning his letters, and in teaching him smart sayings and cunning +expressions. As Hiram grew up and began to display the characteristics I +have already so fully described, Frank, who was quick and sensitive in +his appreciation of qualities, could not, or at least did not, conceal +the disgust he felt for these exhibitions. He took occasion on his +visits home to lecture the youngster soundly. Hiram was not +demonstrative in return, but Mrs. Meeker gave way to undue warmth and +excitement in taking his part. This was when Hiram was at the village +academy. From that time, there was coolness between the brothers, +increased by the total difference of their notions, which ripened in +time to settled aversion. After Hiram went to Burnsville, they did not +meet. Dr. Frank, after spending his year abroad, had returned and +accepted the appointment of demonstrator of anatomy in a medical school +in Vermont. Thence he was called to a chair, in what was then the only +medical college in the city. He was at the time about thirty-six years +old, and a splendid fellow. Enthusiastically devoted to his profession, +Dr. Frank had looked to the metropolis as the field of his ultimate +labors. But he knew the difficulties of getting established, and it was +not till he was assured of a respectable foothold through his +appointment that he ventured on the change. Doubtless the fact of his +having a wife and children made him cautious. Now, however, we behold +him settled in town, zealously engaged with his class at lecture hours, +and making his way gradually in public favor. + +It was with some surprise that, one evening, while making a short call +at Mr. Bennett's, he encountered Hiram, who had just removed to the +city. The brothers had not met for four years. On this occasion they +shook hands with a species of cordiality--at least on the Doctor's +part--while Hiram preserved a bearing of humility and injured innocence. +The Doctor asked his brother many questions. Was he living in town--how +long since he had come to New York--was he engaged with Mr. +Bennett--what was he doing? Hiram returned short answers to these +queries--very short--acting the while as if he were in pain under a +certain infliction. He looked up, as much as to say, 'Now, let me alone; +please don't persecute me.' But the Doctor did not give the matter up. +He invited Hiram to come and see him, and told him, with a smile, to be +sure and let him know if he should be taken sick. Hiram wriggled in his +seat, and looked more persecuted than ever; he replied that his health +was very good, and likely to continue so. The words were scarcely out of +his mouth, before it struck him that such an observation was a direct +tempting of Providence, to trip his heels and lay him on a sickbed for +his boast. So, after a slight hesitation, he added, 'But the race is not +to the swift, brother, and I am wrong to indulge in vainglory about +anything. Life and death are uncertain; none realize it, I trust, more +deeply than I do.' + +'I was in hopes, Hiram, you had quit talking cant,' said Dr. Frank, in a +tone of disgust. 'Take my advice, and stop it, that is, if it is not too +late.' + +He did not wait for a response, but, much to Hiram's satisfaction, rose, +and saying to Mrs. Bennett that he had overstayed his time, bade a rapid +'good evening' to all, and left the room. + +'It is dreadful to feel so toward a brother. It is of no use. I won't +attempt to resist it. The least we see of each other the better--but, +good God, what's to become of him!' Such was the Doctor's soliloquy as +he walked rapidly on. Other thoughts soon occupied his mind, and Hiram +was forgotten. The latter, however, did not forget. The Doctor's rebuke +filled his heart with rage; still he consoled himself with the thought +that his brother was an infidel, and would unquestionably be damned. +Meantime he was forced to hear various encomiums on him from Mrs. +Bennett and her daughters--[Doctor Frank, as we have intimated, was a +brilliant fellow, and in the very prime of life]--and was still further +annoyed by a remark of Mr. Bennett, that 'the Doctor was doing very +well; gaining ground fast; getting some of our best families.' Hiram +departed from the house in an uncomfortable state of mind. All the way +home he indulged in the bitterest feelings: so strong were these that +they found expression in ominous mutterings to himself, among which +were, 'Conceited fool,' 'I hate him,' and the like. + +Suddenly Hiram's thoughts appeared to take a new direction. He stopped +short, and exclaimed aloud: 'What have I done? O God, have mercy on me. +God forgive me!' + +When he reached his room he hastily struck a light and seized his Bible. +Turning the leaves rapidly in search of something, his eyes were at +length fastened on a verse, and he trembled from head to foot, and his +breath nearly failed him, while he read as follows: + + _'But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother + without a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever + shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: + but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell + fire.'_ + +'The very word; oh, the very, very word!' he exclaimed. 'I have said +it--said that word--said 'fool,' and I am in danger of hell fire, if I +do belong to the church. Yes, hell fire--oh-oh--oh, hell fire. I wish +mother was here. I know what I will do. I will write a confession, and +send it to my brother to-morrow. I will abase myself before him. Yes, I +will. Oh, oh, hell fire! What _will_ become of me!' Hiram prayed, a good +portion of the night, for a remission of the awful sentence; the bare +possibility of its being carried out filled him with terror. + +At last, overcome by weariness and exhaustion, he fell asleep. + +He awoke early. He lay several minutes, revolving the last night's +scene. Presently his countenance brightened. He sprang from the bed, and +again turned to the dreaded text, but not with his previous alarm. On +the contrary, he was hopeful. He read the verse over carefully, and said +to him self: 'I am all right, after all. It means whosoever shall say +the word _to_ his brother. I did not make any reply to Frank, much as he +irritated me. I restrained my anger, and suffered humiliation before +him. I may have been too violent in giving utterance to these +expressions, but it is doubtful if I have even incurred _any_ penalty, +for I surely was not angry _without a cause_. God has heard my prayers, +and has relieved my mind in answer thereto. I shan't have to make a +confession either. Glad of that. How he would have triumphed over me!' + +So Hiram went forth to his usual 'duties,' his complacency fully +restored, and his faith confirmed that he was one of the 'elect.' + + +CHAPTER V. + +'Already she guessed who it was!' + +And who _could_ he be--the intelligent, handsome, but, as it would seem, +over-bold young man, who had presumed to place himself so confidently in +her path and interrupt her walk till he had said his say, and then +disappear as abruptly as he came? + +She guessed who. + +The arrival of her father with the guest he was to bring proved she had +divined right. For coming up the avenue, she saw that it was the same +handsome young man she had a little before encountered. And she could +perceive in her father's countenance a glowing look of satisfaction as +the two mounted the steps (Sarah was peeping through the blinds) and +proceeded to enter the house. Before they had accomplished this, +however, the room was vacant. Sarah was nowhere to be found--that is, +for the moment; but in due time she presented herself, and thereupon Dr. +James Egerton--that was his name--was formally introduced to her. + +'I recollect you now,' said Sarah, seriously. 'Your features have not at +all changed, except they seem larger and--' + +'Older, doubtless,' interrupted the young man. 'You, too, have changed, +even more than I; but I knew you the moment my eyes fell on you.' * * * + +Seven years had passed since grievous afflictions befell Joel +Burns--when his wife died and his daughter was stricken low, and he +himself was brought to the very gates of death. The reader has already +been made acquainted with these circumstances, and will scarcely forget +that, when the famous medical man returned to New Haven after visiting +Sarah, he despatched his favorite student, with directions to devote +himself to the case. It is known, too, with what earnestness and skill +the youth--for he was little more than a youth--performed his +responsible duties. + +Here I had thought to take leave of him, but as he has abruptly come on +the stage as a visitor at Burnsville, and as Sarah Burns already +exhibits an incipient interest in the young doctor, I must let the +reader into the secret of his sudden appearance. + + + + +THE UNION. + +VII. + +RHODE ISLAND AND DELAWARE COMPARED. + + +In 1790 the population of Rhode Island was 69,110, and that of Delaware +59,096. In 1860 the former numbered 174,620, the latter 112,216. Thus, +from 1790 to 1860, the ratio of increase of population of Rhode Island +was 152.67 per cent., and of Delaware, 89.88. At the same relative rate +of increase, for the next, as for the last seventy years, the population +of Rhode Island in 1930, would be 441,212, and of Delaware, 213,074. +Thus in 1790, Rhode Island numbered but 10,014 more than Delaware, +62,404 more in 1860, and, at the same ratio of increase, 228,138 more in +1930. Such has been and would be the effect of slavery in retarding the +increase of Delaware, as compared with Rhode Island. (Census Table, +1860, No. 1.) + +The population of Rhode Island per square mile in 1790, was 52.15, and +in 1860, 133.71; that of Delaware, 27.87 in 1790, and 59.93 in 1860. The +absolute increase of population of Rhode Island, per square mile, from +1790 to 1860, was 80.79, and from 1850 to 1860, 20.74; that of Delaware, +from 1790 to 1860 was 25.05, and from 1850 to 1860, 9.76. (Ib.) + +AREA.-The area of Rhode Island is 1,306 square miles, and of +Delaware, 2,120, being 38 per cent., or much more than one third larger +than Rhode Island. Retaining their respective ratios of increase, per +square mile, from 1790 to 1860, and reversing their areas, the +population of Rhode Island in 1860, would have been 283,465, and of +Delaware, 78,268. + +In natural fertility of soil Delaware is far superior to Rhode Island, +the seasons much more favorable for crops and stock, and with more than +double the number of acres of arable land. + +PROGRESS OF WEALTH.--By Census Tables 33 and 36 (omitting +commerce), it appears that the products of industry as given, viz., of +agriculture, manufactures, mines, and fisheries, were that year, in +Rhode Island, of the value of $52,400,000, or $300 per capita, and in +Delaware, $16,100,000, or $143 per capita. That is, the average annual +value of the product of the labor of each person in Rhode Island is +greatly more than double that of the labor of each person in Delaware, +including slaves. This, we have seen, would make the value of the +products of labor in Rhode Island in 1930, $132,363,600, and in +Delaware, only $30,469,582, notwithstanding the far greater area and +superior natural advantages of Delaware as compared with Rhode Island. + +As to the rate of increase: the value of the products of Delaware in +1850 was $7,804,992, in 1860, $16,100,000; and in Rhode Island, in 1850, +$24,288,088, and in 1860, $52,400,000 (Table 9, Treas. Rep., 1856), +exhibiting a large difference in the ratio in favor of Rhode Island. + +By Table 36, p. 196, Census of 1860, the cash value of the farm lands of +Rhode Island in 1860 was $19,385,573, or $37.30 per acre (519,698 +acres), and of Delaware, $31,426,357, or $31.39 per acre. (1,004,295 +acres). Thus, if the farm lands of Delaware were of the cash value of +those of Rhode Island per acre, it would increase the value of those of +Delaware $5,935,385, whereas the whole value of her slaves is but +$539,400. + +But by Table 35, Census of 1860, the total value of the real and +personal property of Rhode Island in 1860, was $135,337,588, and of +Delaware, $46,242,181, making a difference in favor of Rhode Island, +$89,095,407, whereas, we have seen, in the absence of slavery, Delaware +must have far exceeded Rhode Island in wealth and population. + +The earnings of commerce are not given by the census, but, to how vast +an extent this would swell the difference in favor of Rhode Island, we +may learn from the Census, Bank Table No. 34. The number of the banks of +Rhode Island in 1860, was 91; capital, $20,865,569; loans, $26,719,877; +circulation, $3,558,295; deposits, $3,553,104. In Delaware, number of +banks, 12; capital, $1,640,775; loans, $3,150,215; circulation, +$1,135,772; deposits, $976,223. + +Having shown how much slavery has retarded the material progress of +Delaware, let us now consider its effect upon her moral and intellectual +development. + +NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS.--The number of newspapers and +periodicals in Rhode Island in 1860, was 26, of which 18 were political, +6 literary, and 2 miscellaneous. (Census, Table No. 37.) The number in +Delaware was 14, of which 13 were political, and 1 literary. Of +periodicals, Delaware had none; Rhode Island, 1. The number of copies of +newspapers and periodicals issued in Rhode Island in 1860 was 5,289,280, +and in Delaware only 1,010,776, or largely more than five to one in +favor of Rhode Island. + +As regards schools, colleges, academies, libraries, and churches, I must +take the census of 1850, those tables for 1860 not being yet arranged or +published. The number of public schools in Rhode Island in 1850 was 426, +teachers 518, pupils 23,130; attending school during the year, as +returned by families, whites, 28,359; native adults of the State who +cannot read or write, 1,248; public libraries, 96; volumes, 104,342; +value of churches, $1,293,600; percentage of native free adults who +cannot read or write, 149. Colleges and academies, pupils, 3,664. (Comp. +Census of 1850.) The number of public schools in Delaware in 1850, was +194, teachers 214, pupils 8,970; attending school during the year, +whites, as returned by families, 14,216; native free adults of the State +who cannot read or write, 9,777; public libraries, 17; volumes, 17,950; +value of churches, $340,345; percentage of native free adults who cannot +read or write, 23.03; colleges and academies, pupils, 764. (Comp. +Census, 1850.) + +These official statistics enable me then again to say, that slavery is +hostile to the progress of _population_, _wealth_, and _education_, to +_science_ and _literature_, to _schools_ and _colleges_, to _books_ and +_libraries_, to _churches_ and _religion_, to the _press_, and therefore +to FREE GOVERNMENT; hostile to the _poor_, keeping them in _want_ and +_ignorance_; hostile to _labor_, reducing it to _servitude_, and +decreasing _two thirds_ the value of its products; hostile to MORALS, +repudiating among slaves the _marital_ and _parental_ condition, +classifying them by law as CHATTELS, darkening the immortal soul, and +making it a _crime_ to teach millions of human beings to _read_ or +_write_. + + + + +THE CAUSES AND RESULTS OF THE WAR. + + +There are certain theories in regard to the causes of the present war, +which are so generally accepted as to have fortified themselves strongly +in the principle of '_magna est veritas_ et prevalebit.' Theories based, +however, upon facts which have taken their rise long since the true +causes of the war had begun to work, and which, consequently, mistaking +the effect for the cause, are from their nature ephemeral, and farther +from the truth than they were at their origin. Few thinkers have looked +below the surface of the matter, and the majority of Christendom, +ignoring any other past than the few brief years that have rolled over +our national existence, forgetting that great causes oft-times smoulder +unseen for centuries ere they burst forth in effects the more powerful +from their long suppression, shaking the earth with the pent-up fury of +ages--forgetting these things and arguing in the present instance from +the few palpable facts found floating upon the surface of our society, +by a tacit consent lay the burden of the war upon the present generation +and its immediate predecessors. Herein lies the error which blinds the +world as well to the warning of the past as to the momentous issue +involved. + +Where then shall we look for the cause of that antagonism in which North +and South are arrayed--that bitter hostility setting brother against +brother, and father against child, dividing into two separate portions a +nation descended from the same stock, whose archives are one, all whose +associations of a glorious past are the same, and which has hitherto +swept swiftly on to unparalleled wealth and power, seemingly +indissolubly united, and looking forward to the same glorious and +ever-expanding future? Not to the errors in our political system, for no +faults of government could, in a brief century, have produced such an +upheaving of the foundations of society as we now behold--could have +awakened such a thunder peal as is now causing the uttermost corners of +the earth to tremble with dismay. Not to the institution of slavery, for +however great a curse it maybe to our people and soil, however +brutalizing in its tendencies, however unjust to the negro race, and +opposed to all the principles of enlightenment and human progress--of +whatever crimes it may have been guilty, this last and greatest of +crimes cannot be laid at its door: for the bitterness of feeling between +North and South existed long before the agitation of slavery was dreamed +of, and the latter has only been seized upon as the ready means of +accomplishing a greater design. Finally, not to any supposed desire in +the Southern mind of establishing an independent empire of the South, +whose people should be homogeneous, whose individual interests +identical, and whose climate, productions, and institutions should move +on in undisturbed harmony forever. For to this last a motive is wanting. +Under no government that the world has ever known could the South have +enjoyed so much freedom, such unexampled prosperity, such a rapid growth +in wealth and power, in a word, so much real happiness--which is the sum +of all earthly gifts--as under this which they are so earnestly +endeavoring to tear down and blot from the face of the earth. Men's +minds do not eagerly grasp and sternly pursue an abstract idea divorced +from every consideration of self-interest, such as this would be. Even +the greatest of moral principles are indebted to self-interest for their +success, and without it the sublimest of creeds, the loftiest of +principles would soon wither and die for lack of support. With every +blessing that heart could wish in the present, and with no hope through +change of bettering their condition in a practical point of view in the +future, the idea of a great Southern empire, based upon such uncertain +possibilities, would soon have disappeared from the Southern mind, even +if it had ever existed. + +Nay; the true cause is beneath and behind all these, taking its rise +from the very foundations of English society in the dark ages, from the +establishment of classes and distinctions of rank. In English history +this principle reached its culmination in the wars of the Parliament, +that great political tempest which changed the whole destiny and guided +the future of that powerful nation, making it, as it is to-day, the +dominant race of the old world. Its greatest development, however, was +reserved for our day and our land. The England of the subsequent era was +a new government, a new people. She reaped her harvest of good from her +gigantic struggles, and so must we reap our harvest from ours. From the +moment when the first settlers set foot upon our shores our inevitable +destiny was foreshadowed; the seeds of the 'Great Rebellion' were even +then deeply implanted, and all causes have since that day worked +together for its fulfilment. We too must be purified by fire and sword; +and may we not hope that our beloved country may emerge from the +slaughter, the ruin, and the conflagration, more prosperous, more +powerful than ever before, and casting off the slough of impurity that +has for long years been hardening upon her, renovated and redeemed by +the struggle, sweep majestically on to a purer and nobler destiny than +even our past has given promise of, and attain a loftier position than +any nation on earth has yet acquired? + +The intimate relation of the feudal ages, between baron and retainer, +established at first upon principles of individual safety and the public +weal, soon degenerated into that of noble and serf. That which at first +was but an honorable distinction between knight service on the one hand, +and protection and patronage on the other, became, in the course of +time, the baser relation of haughty assumption and oppression on the one +hand, and the most abject servitude on the other. Descended from the +same stern Saxon stock, separated only by purely artificial barriers, by +the fortuitous circumstance of birth, the sturdy peasant could ill brook +the tyranny of the privileged class--those 'lords rich in some dozen +paltry villages.' That stern independence which has ever been the +prominent characteristic of the Saxon mind, revolted at the palpable +injustice of the relation of lord and serf. The aristocracy, on the +contrary, fortified in their arrogance, at a later day, by the irruption +of the Norman nobility, with their French ideas and customs, so far from +yielding to the signs of the times and the light of dawning +civilization, refused to give up one tittle of their assumed +prerogatives, and became even more exacting in their demands, more lofty +in their supposed superiority. Thus was engendered between the two +classes a bitterness of feeling, a spirit of antagonism, that has never +yet disappeared. Patiently did the peasant bide his time, and only when +the tyranny became utterly unendurable did the movement commence which +has swept downward to our time, reiving away one by one the miscalled +privileges of the favored class, bringing, year by year, the condition +of the laborer nearer to the true balance of society. + +This antagonism reached its height in the Cromwellian era, and the men +of those times stand forth upon the page of history as the exponents of +the great principles of civil freedom. The strength of the Cromwellian +party lay in the fact that it was composed almost entirely of the +laboring and the middle classes, the bone and sinew of the land. Then +for the first time in English history the world saw the plebeian pitted +against the aristocrat, and the strife which ensued involved not so much +the question of kingly prerogative and the 'divine right' of monarchs, +as the pent-up feuds of ages--feuds arising from the most flagrant +injustice and wrong on the one hand and forced submission on the other. +This of itself was enough to lend to the contest a character of ferocity +which well might make civilization turn pale. But even this bitterness +was slight compared with that engendered by the _religious_ element of +the war. The history of the world has shown no wars so cruel and bloody, +no crimes so heinous, no hatred so deep seated and abiding as those +produced by religious differences. Strange that it should be so! Strange +that the sacred cause whose province is to develop the purest and +holiest emotions of the soul, should call forth and develop the +fiercest, the darkest, and most unrelenting passions of the human heart! +Yet so it proved in this instance. Their fierce, fanatical enthusiasm +was a powerful element of strength to the Roundheads, which was lacking +to the effeminate, corrupt, and godless Cavaliers. With such an +auxiliary the struggle could not be doubtful; religious fanaticism +carried the day. + +In the years succeeding the Restoration, the evil effects of this +religious antagonism were modified by mutual concessions, and in time +almost disappeared under the impartial administration of a government +founded upon a firmer basis than ever before, and more consonant to +Saxon ideas of justice and social equality. But with us of America there +was no such modification, for from the midst of this time of war and +tumult, of savage hatred and unrelenting persecution, American society +sprang. Our country was settled by representatives of these two extremes +of English society, and in their choice of abode the hand of Providence +is distinctly seen laying the foundations of our struggle of to-day, +which is to prove the refining fire, the purification and regeneration +of our race. Had the Cavaliers landed upon the shores of New England, +the bracing winds of that northern clime, the rugged and intractable +nature of the soil, the constant presence of dangers from the fiercer +Indian tribes of the north, and the absolute necessity of severe and +incessant toil to support existence, would have awakened and developed +in them those manly qualities which for centuries had lain dormant in +their souls--would have imparted new strength to their frames, new vigor +and energy to their modes of thought; their indolence and effeminacy +would soon have passed away, and they would have constantly approached, +instead of departing from the true Puritan type. While, on the other +hand, the stern, rough, almost savage peculiarities of the Puritan would +in like manner have been modified by the genial influences of a southern +sun and a teeming soil, and while the severe training and rough +experiences of centuries, as well as their peculiar mental constitution, +would have prevented their entirely lapsing into the indolence and +effeminacy of the Cavalier, the whole race would nevertheless have +undergone a softening change, bringing them in their turn nearer the +type of their old antagonists; and thus each succeeding year would have +seen these two extremes of social life drawing nearer and nearer +together, and at last blending in dull, contented, plodding harmony. And +the result would doubtless have been the degeneration of the entire +race, and our fate that of the Spanish American colonies. + +But this did not suit the designs of Providence. It was His purpose that +there should be here those manifold social and political conflicts which +are the life of a great nation--which are, indeed, the motive power to +the wheels of human progress. A great problem in human destiny was here +to be wrought out; a powerful nation was to arise, bearing within itself +the elements of its own continual purification. The Cavalier landed +upon the shores of Virginia, and spread his settlements southward. The +influence of climate upon both the physical and mental constitution of +man is well known. The enervating climate of the 'sunny South,' the soil +fruitful beyond a parallel, pouring forth its products almost +spontaneously, and, above all, the 'peculiar institution,' which +released the planter from the necessity of toil, all tended to aggravate +the peculiarities of mind and body which the settlers inherited from +their ancestors; and the result has been a race which, while it presents +here and there an example of brilliant, meteoric genius, is, in the +main, both intellectually and physically inferior to the hardy denizens +of the North and West. The same influences have fostered the +aristocratic notions of the early settlers of the Southern States. With +every element of a monarchy in their midst, the Gulf States have long +been anything but a republic. De Bow, when, a few years since, he +broached in his Review the idea, and prophesied the establishment of a +monarch in our midst, was but giving expression to a feeling which had +long been dominant in the Southern heart. All their institutions, +associations, and reminiscences have tended steadily to this result, and +in the event of the success of the rebellion, it needs but some bold +apostle to take upon himself the propagation and execution of the plan, +to make the idea a startling reality. And herein lies the secret of the +sympathy of the English aristocracy with the confederates in their +struggle for independent existence. + +The Puritan, guided by the hand of God, planted his future abode on the +shores of New England, a land truly congenial to him, whose whole mental +and physical life had hitherto been one of storm and tempest. Nor could +a fitter type in the human race have been found than he to tame the +rock-crowned hills, to brave the rigors of such winters as Old England +never knew, and the lurking dangers at the hands of a powerful and +jealous race. Here was no place for indolence and luxurious ease. Only +by the most persevering and painful labors could the bleak hills and +gorge-like valleys be made to yield the fruits of life. Only by +unremitting energy and the most patient self-denial could starvation be +kept from his door, while constant watchfulness and never-flinching +courage were required to ward off the many dangers that beset his path. +Nature herself seemed pitted against him to contest every inch of his +progress. But his nature was as stern and rough as that of the land he +had come to tame. Accustomed to move steadily on in the pursuit of some +one great purpose, to surmount every obstacle and crush every +impediment, looking neither to the right nor the left, nor even pausing +to pluck the flowrets that bloomed by the wayside, there was for him no +such word as fail. Here the unbounded resources and exhaustless energy +of body and mind found fitting scope. What to ordinary men would seem +but hopeless, cheerless toil, was to him but pastime. The Puritan was +just the man for New England, and New England the land for the Puritan. +How he succeeded let all Christendom proclaim, for his works were not +for himself nor his immediate posterity, but for the whole world. + +But it is not so much with the results of his labors that we have to do +as with their effects upon himself and his posterity. Here, as in the +case of the Cavalier, every circumstance of his life tended to aggravate +the hereditary peculiarities of his class. The success of his +enterprise, the crowning of those hopes which had led him to cast off +all ties of the old world, the lofty spirit which induced him to reject +all external aid, and, above all, the crisp, free mountain air he +breathed, begot in him a feeling of independence and superiority, and, +at the same time, ideas of social equality, which have made themselves +manifest to all time. Where all were toilful laborers, and few possessed +more than a sufficiency of worldly goods to provide for the necessities +of the day, there was no room for the distinctions of rank. Power, with +them, resided in the masses; the results of their labor were common +stock; their interests were one and the same. Add to these facts their +ancient hatred of the aristocracy, and we have the influences Under +which New England has ever tended to republicanism. The Puritan race has +ever been republican to the core, and this is one great and vital +respect in which they have continually diverged from their Southern +brethren. + +Yet with, all their virtues, with all their sublime heroism, was blended +an inordinate, morbid selfishness. Shut in within their little republic +from all Communion with the outer world, lacking the healthful +influences of conflicting ideas and that moral attrition which polishes +the cosmopolitan man, enlarging his views of life and giving broader +scope as well to the active energies of the soul as to the kinder +sympathies and benevolent sensibilities of the heart, this little +community became more set in their traditional opinions, and gradually +imbibed a hearty contempt for all beyond the pale of their own religious +belief, which soon extended to all without the bounds which +circumscribed their narrow settlements. Living alike, thinking alike, +feeling alike, placing under solemn ban all speculations in religion, +and even all research into the deeper mysteries of natural science, +grinding with iron heel the very germ of intellectual progress, in their +blind presumption they would have closed the doors of heaven itself upon +all mankind save the called and elected of the Puritan faith. This +intellectual life was one of mere abstractions, and as a natural +consequence all their thoughts and emotions, their joys and sorrows, +their loves and hatreds, became morbid to the last degree. But the bent +bow will seek release; the reaction came at last, and the astonishing +mental progress of the New England of to-day, the wild speculation upon +all questions of morals and religion, rivalling in their daring scope +the most impious theories of the German metaphysicians, which our New +England fosters and sustains, and above all, the proverbial trickery of +the Yankee race, are but the reaction of the stern and gloomy tenets of +that olden time which would have made of our earth a charnel house +crowded with mouldering bones. + +In the midst of this intensely morbid Puritan life, no more eligible +object could have been presented for the exercise of their bitterest +antipathies than the descendants of their ancient enemies, the +Cavaliers,--who were already rivalling them in the South, and who, as we +have shown, were equally ready to cast or lift the gauntlet. Occupying +the very extremes of religious faith, radically differing in their views +of public polity, of bitterly hostile antecedents and traditions, the +one looking upon the other as an outcast from salvation itself, and the +other in its turn nothing loth brands its opponent with the epithets of +surly, hypocritical, psalm-singing knaves, then as now, and as they have +ever been since the foundations of our country were laid, these two +classes stood arrayed against each other in every respect save that of +open, carnal warfare. The bitterest of foes in the beginning, +diametrically opposed in every possible respect, each has plodded on in +his own narrow path, and the two paths have continually diverged to our +day, and the present outbreak is but as the breaking of a sore which has +long been ripe. It is of such antagonisms that nations are made: it is +but differences such as these that have separated the common stock of +Adam into so many distinct races and nationalities through all the ages +of the world. Such a result we see to-day in our country, in two +separate and distinct nations, hitherto nominally united under one form +of government--nations as distinct as ever were the Roman and the Greek. +As the Cavalier of the Cromwellian era was a horror to the pharisaical +Puritan, and the Puritan in his turn a contempt and an abomination to +the reckless, pleasure-hunting Cavalier, so to-day is the +'psalm-singing, clock-peddling Yankee' a foul odor to the fastidious +nostrils of the lordly Southerner, and the reckless prodigal, dissipated +and soul-selling planter a thorn in the flesh of Puritan morality. The +Yankee is to the Southerner a synonym for all that is low and base and +cunning, and the Southerner is to the Yankee the embodiment of all +worthlessness and crime. The same spirit is observable in those Northern +States which were settled by a mixed emigration from both portions of +the country, and the fact is well known that even in those loyal Western +States where the Southern element most predominates, is found the +bitterest hatred and denunciation of the Yankee; so that he is no sage +who draws the line east and west, north and south, and in every mixed +community, between the descendant of the Cavalier, and the man of +Puritan stock. Shall any one say that this is but the result of the war? +Where then does history record a like instance? Where can be found the +record of a civil war where the people, descended from a common stock +and bound together by a common interest, sprang with such alacrity to +the call to arms, and waged a war so relentless and cruel even in its +very commencement, except there had been radical antagonisms existing +through a long series of years? + +But it may be urged that a large portion of the Southern population are +emigrants from the New England States, and consequently of Puritan +descent, and that while this very class of slaveholders are notoriously +the most cruel and exacting of masters, they stand in the front ranks of +secession and are the most deadly enemies of the North. True, but the +enmity of this class, wherever it exists, is that of the most sordid, +unprincipled self-interest. Gold is their god, and all things else are +sacrificed to the unhallowed lust. But this enmity is oftentimes assumed +from motives of self-preservation. Objects of suspicion to the +Simon-Pure Southerner from the very fact of their nativity, and visited +with the most horrible retribution wherever they have shown a leaning +toward the land of their birth, they find it necessary to out-herod +Herod in order to preserve their social status and the possessions which +are their earthly all. Hence, to disarm suspicion, often those have been +made to take the more prominent positions in this tragic drama who, did +circumstances permit the expression of their true sentiments, would be +found to be at heart the most truly loyal citizens of the South. Another +class--and this includes more particularly the descendants of Northern +emigrants--born and bred among the moral influences of Southern society, +imbibing all the ideas and prejudices of their surroundings, lose their +identity as effectually as the raindrop is lost in the surging billows +of the ocean. Drinking in with their years the prevailing hatred of the +very stock from which their own descent is derived, they become part and +parcel of the people among whom their lot is cast, and ordinarily run to +the farthest extreme of the new nationality. Herein is seen the fallacy +of the ancient maxim--_Coelum, non animum mutant qui trans mare +currant_. The all-potent influence of self-interest, the overshadowing +sway of undisputed dogmas, soon sweep away the lessons and prejudices of +earlier years, and effectually transform the foreign born into the +citizen of the new clime and nation. Were the population of the South +more equally divided between the Northern and Southern born, this would +not be the case; but in all the slave-holding States the Cavalier +element so overwhelmingly predominates as to crush before it all +opposing ideas, prejudices, and opinions. + +This radical antagonism, smouldering for years, found its first great +expression in the Tariff question of 1832, which was not so much a +question of State rights and agricultural interests as the vehicle, or +rather the weapon of the pent-up hatred of years. General Jackson saw +the true bearing and origin of the dispute; and when he prophesied that +the slavery question would be the next issue sprung by the designing +revolutionists of the South, he did but show his appreciation of the +great fact of the moral and physical antagonism between the descendants +of the Cavalier and the Puritan. He might, and probably would, had +circumstances required it, have gone farther, and prophesied, that +should the slavery question in its turn be settled, some other cause of +dispute would soon be found and grasped by the apostles of separation +and revolution, as a means for the accomplishment of their great design. +He alone, of all our statesmen, with his far-seeing eye saw and +appreciated the tremendous issue involved. He was sternly opposed to the +compromise which was subsequently made, well knowing that if the +question were not then settled, at once and forever, the flame was but +smothered for a time, to break out again in future years, with far +greater vehemence. His policy was to crush the malcontents by the strong +arm of power, to make such a display of the strength and resources of +the Federal Government, such an example of the fate which must ever +await treason in our midst, and, above all, such a convincing +manifestation of the utter hopelessness of all attempts to destroy a +great and good government, deriving its powers and functions from the +people themselves, as to put forever at rest the machinations of +traitors and anarchists. Experience has shown that he was right, and +shown us, too, that if, in this our day, a second compromise be adopted, +and a peace patched up upon a basis ignoring the true cause of dispute, +or of oblivion to the past, or, worst of all, of yielding, on our part, +one jot or tittle to the demands of our antagonists, as sure as there is +a God in heaven--as sure as that retribution follows the sinner, the war +will have to be fought over again, more savage, more bloody, and more +desolating than ever, by our posterity, if not even in our own time. +Fought over again, not once, but again and again, as often as the +revolving wheel of human progress and enlightenment shall bring to the +surface the black waters of the steaming cesspool below. + +But what of the result? Watchman! what of the night? The night is stormy +and dark; men's hearts are failing them for fear; those who see clearly +in the day time, now grope helplessly in the dark; the blind are leading +the blind; society is at a stand still, waiting and watching for the +coming day. Yet afar off in the east the patriot's eye may even now see +the first faint streaks of that light which shall usher in the golden +dawn. + +The result, in the event of the success of the North, is too palpable to +require a moment's thought, involving, as it does, every possible +blessing to our race, every advantage to the progress of the new +theories of social equality, and of man's capacity for self-government. +But what in the other event? The evils would be legion--countless in +number and direful in effect, not to us alone, but to the whole American +race. First and foremost is that hydra _precedent_. We are fighting, not +alone for the stability of any particular form of government, not alone +for the sustaining of an administration, not alone for the upholding of +those God-given ideas which have made America the most favored land on +earth; but against a PRECEDENT, which involves and would destroy them +all. Precedent which is, and ever has been, all powerful to overturn +theories and systems, to topple kings from their thrones, and plunge +nations into slavery. Of all dangers which every liberal form of +government has to shun, none is so deadly as this. Grave and venerable +judges, sages though they may be, rest upon it, and thereon base +decisions involving millions of property, and sometimes life itself. And +though, as Blackstone has declared, a bad precedent in law is +comparatively harmless, inasmuch as succeeding judges are in no wise +bound by it, but free, and in fact bound to decide the law as it was +before the evil precedent was established, and to interpret it as it +ought to be, yet in national affairs this is not so. No matter how bad +or absurd a precedent may be, designing men will be found in all ages +and climes to avail themselves of it, honestly or dishonestly. Men's +minds are not constructed alike, and that which seems evil to one is to +another good. The foulest of all theories, the basest of systems, the +most suicidal of policies, will at all times find sincerely honest +adherents and supporters. Individuality of mind admits a million of +shades and degrees of right and wrong. Moreover, an idea once broached +before the people, no matter how detestable it may at first appear, is +already halfway advanced upon the road to execution. Thousands of +criminals have been executed for crimes their minds would never have +conceived save for the suggestion of some artful apostle of evil. Give +me but a precedent once firmly established, I care not how bad it may +be, and I shall revolutionize the world. + +And what is the precedent against which we have to contend? It is that +of separation. If secession would stop where it has begun, if the result +of our defeat were to be but two great republics of the North and South +upon our continent, there would still be room for the development of +both, and we might even look forward to such a peace with some degree of +complacency, and with hope for a future of happiness and prosperity. But +it will not stop here. As surely as that an overruling Providence +directs the affairs of men, the movement will go on until there are as +many separate and hostile republics as there are States in our Union. +The mutterings of separation--which have already been heard in the West, +are but the precursors of the storm which can only be forever allayed by +the triumph of our arms in the present contest. The slightest +disagreement between the East and the West would soon be made a pretext +for secession: the least dispute or conflicting interest between any two +great portions of our country would find a speedy remedy in separation. +The West would divide from the East, the Atlantic States from the Lake +States, the Mississippi States from the Pacific, the North Pacific +States from the South Pacific, and where would be the end? Already the +great West has learned her own gigantic strength, which before she knew +not that she possessed, and if the time should come when her interests +should apparently point in a different direction from those of the East, +with such a precedent before her, would she not avail herself of that +new-found strength? Already the soldiers of the West have begun to sneer +at the achievements of those of the East, and to consider themselves the +braver and the manlier of the two. Are these not the signs of the times? +And do they not betoken a future of anarchy in the event of the +establishment of this most pernicious and monstrous of doctrines? + +And is it to be expected that these many republics, monarchies, +aristocracies, or whatever form they may take, will long remain at peace +with each other? Ask the muse who presides over the pages of history how +often has her pen been called upon to record the circumstance of +separate nations, of the same blood and antecedents, lying quietly and +peaceably beside each other. Family quarrels are proverbially the most +bitter of all on earth, and family hatreds the most unrelenting. It was +but the ties of kin that lent such a character of ferocity to our wars +with England and to the present contest with the South. + +But what shall we say of that scheme which aims at a reconstruction of +the Union by leaving New England out? Simply this: that, aside from any +considerations of policy--without attempting to argue the question of a +good or evil result from such a movement, the answer is plain enough: +_you cannot do it_--and that which is impossible needs no argument for +or against. The energy and activity of mind and body, the lofty +independence, the firm self-reliance, the dogged determination and +undaunted adherence to a great and high purpose, of the whole Saxon +race, is concentrated in the people of that mountain land. Theirs have +been the heads to plan and the hands to execute every great work we have +accomplished since the foundation of our nationality. The railroads and +canals and telegraphs of the North, the South, the East, and the West +are their work; and their capital and their inventive, energetic minds +still shape and control every great commercial enterprise of our land. +Their sturdy emigrants have pushed civilization across the boundless +prairies of the West, and opened the primeval forests of the Pacific +States. Go where you will on the face of the earth, and you find them +there before you, and ever the same busy, tireless apostles of progress, +the leaders in every great work, and the rulers of commerce, everywhere +looked up to as the type of the executive mind, and, by the tacit +consent of Christendom, intrusted with the guidance of every enterprise +requiring pluck, perseverance, and ceaseless activity. And theirs will +still be the brains to control the destinies of our race, however +isolated they may become, however they may be made the objects of +distrust and contempt. Ay! shut them out if you will, and from that +moment New England becomes the Switzerland of America, the home of great +ideas and great men, the temple where Freedom shall take up her +everlasting abode, and the altar fires of Liberty shall never die away. +And her people will become the priests of that great religion which, +taking its rise in a lofty appreciation of the true end of human +existence, is already bursting out all over the Christian world, in +fitful flames, which shall yet become the devouring element that shall +wither and consume away oppression and kingcraft from the face of the +earth. Shut her out, then, if you will, but you cannot shut out the +flame which she shall kindle; you cannot shut out the tones of her +trumpet voice, proclaiming to the world the doctrines of eternal truth. +Self-reliant, possessing within themselves every element of success, her +people can and will make their way, as heretofore, alone and unaided. +Asking no favors of the world, they will pursue the even tenor of their +way, undisturbed by the mutterings and growlings of their impotent foes, +while their little republic, like a city set upon a hill, continues to +reflect from her glittering pinnacles the sunlight of heaven to all +quarters of the earth. The petty vengeance which the disunionists of +to-day are attempting to wreak upon her will recoil upon their own +heads, and they themselves may yet be forced some day to look to little +New England as their redeemer from anarchy. A purely commercial people, +her interests are not circumscribed by her narrow geographical limits, +but are, as well as her tastes and sympathies, cosmopolitan. She +stretches out her feelers to all parts of the earth, wherever her +wandering sons may have betaken themselves, and fastens there a little +vine or creeper whose roots are still in her own bosom. It is a part and +a necessity of her very existence, to handle and direct catholic +interests. This, as well as her position in other respects, has made her +the arbiter of this nation and country, and you can no more shut her out +from participation in the affairs of this continent than you can shut in +the mighty river from its outlet to the ocean. And if you cut her off, +see to it that she does not become the little Rome whose conquering arms +shall reduce all the nations of the continent to her sway. + +No! New England has planted herself too deeply in the hearts of the +American people--she has sprinkled too many of her scions among the +population of the West and South--to allow of a moment's serious thought +of cutting her off from our communion. The cry is but the party cry of +the designing and evil disposed, the traitors to our name and nation; +and with the crushing out of the rebellion and the restoration of our +nationality; it will pass away forever. + +But to return to the direct results of the war. Having shown the +threatened evils of separation, our province leads us no farther, for +this comprises _all_ the evils within the scope of man's imagination. +See, then, the issue involved: in our success lie all our hopes of +future stability and prosperity; in our failure lies simply--inevitable +ruin. With such a prospect before them--with existence itself hanging in +the balance--why are the people of the North asleep? Why will they not +see the true bearings of the war in this light, and arise in all their +power and strength, determined to crush out this infamous rebellion, +even at the cost of the last dollar and the last drop of blood! Shall we +grumble at the cost of the war? Shall we growl over the paltry taxes +which, even yet, are scarcely felt? Shall the father grieve for the loss +of half his wealth which goes to redeem his only son from death--his +'darling from the power of the lions'? Shall the house-holder grumble +over the reward he has offered for the rescue of his wife and little +ones from the burning house? Shall the felon begrudge the last cent of +his earthly possessions that purchases his relief from the gallows? +Better that we should all be ruined--better that the land should be +entirely depleted of its youth, and the country irretrievably in debt, +with a prospect of a future and lasting peace, than a compromise now, +with the inevitable certainty of everlasting war and tumult and +bloodshed, worse, a thousand times worse than that of the South American +States. Shall we make a peace now, only that we may again go to war +among ourselves? Would this not be literally 'jumping out of the frying +pan into the fire'? The _war_ men of the North are the men of peace, and +the so-called peace men are the men of eternal war; those are they who +would prolong the miseries of our country, simply by turning them in a +new direction--by turning all our hostilities into our own bosoms and +against out own wives and children. Nay I there can be no pausing now. +We have everything to gain by prosecuting the war to the bitter, even +ruinous end; everything to lose by leaving the work half done. The South +is said to be fighting for its very existence; yet not by a thousand +degrees can this be as truly said of them as of us. Therefore should our +earnestness, our enthusiasm, our determination, our _desperation_ be a +thousand times greater than theirs. Do you tell me that we cannot +conquer so united, so brave, and so desperate a people? I answer, WE +MUST. In the whole wide world of human destiny there is no other road +left open for us; the path to defeat is blocked by our own dead bodies. +Unless the people of the North arouse and take hold of the work with an +energy, an earnestness of purpose, to which the past bears no parallel, +too late will they repent the folly of their own supineness, their own +blindness. As in the affairs of men, so in those of nations, there is a +critical point when those who hope for success must seize the winged +moment as it flies and work steadily on with singleness of aim and +unchangeable, unfaltering devotion of purpose. That moment, once past, +will never return. Now is our golden opportunity, and according as we +improve or neglect it will our future be one of greatness and power or +one of utter nothingness among the nations of the earth. No subsequent +time can repair the errors or failures of to-day. + +Since the greater part of this article was written, the prospect of our +success has immeasurably brightened. But let us not by the fairness of +the sky be lulled into a false sense of security; let us not be again +deceived by the _ignis fatuus_ glare which plays around our banners, and +which has already so often lured us to forgetfulness and defeat. For the +storm may again break forth in a moment when we think not of it, and +from a quarter where we seemed the most secure. A single week may +reverse every move upon the great chess board of strategy. There should +be no relaxation of the sinews of war until the end is accomplished. So +should we be safest in our watchfulness and strength, and, by the +irresistible influence of overwhelming numbers and might, render that +permanent which is now but evanescent. + +But, it will be asked, if there is between North and South an antipathy +so deep seated and of such long standing, how shall we ever succeed in +conquering a lasting peace? how shall we ever persuade the people of the +South to live in amity with a race so cordially hated and despised? The +question has often been asked, but always by those faint-hearted ones +whose clamors for a disgraceful peace have added strength to the cause +of our opponents. The answer is so plain that it requires no +demonstration. There is but one remedy for so sore a disease, and +however severe it may be, however revolting to the tender sensibilities +of peace-loving men, the inevitable and inexorable MUST urges +it on to execution, and stands like a giant, blocking up every other +path. It is like those dangerous remedies which the physician applies +when the patient's recovery is otherwise utterly hopeless, and which +must result either in recovery or in death by its own agency rather than +that of the disease. Concession has been tried in vain, 'moral suasion' +has been proved to be of no avail. The South must be shown how entirely +hopeless must be every effort, in all time, to overturn such a +government as ours. They must be made to feel our immense superiority in +power and resources; they must be shown in unmistakable colors the +unconquerable might of nationality in strong contrast with the weakness +of sectionalism, as well as their own dependence upon the North; in a +word, every atom of resistance must be utterly and forever crushed out +by brute force. To no other argument will they listen, as experience has +proved; and this 'last resort of kings' must be exerted in all its +strength and proclaimed in thunder tones, even though its reverberations +should shake the earth to its very core. This done, and peace once more +established, the South must be, _not_ abolitionized, not colonized, not +Puritanized, nor yet oppressed, but AMERICANIZED. They must be +familiarized with those immortal principles of justice and freedom, to +which they have hitherto been strangers, which lie at the heart of all +national success among an enlightened and Christian people. They must be +made acquainted with the all-important fact that we are a nation of one +blood, one common ancestry; that we can never live at peace as separate +nationalities, and that only in unity and mutual concession and +forbearance can a glorious destiny be wrought out for our common +country. _Then_, not now, will be the time for conciliation on our part, +but yet conciliation never divided from the utmost vigilance and a firm +support of the doctrine of national supremacy, as opposed to, and +paramount to the iniquitous dogma of State rights. The people of the +North must first divest themselves of all prejudices, all hereditary +antipathies, and wipe away old scores in the dawn of a golden future. +Then will our brethren of the South not be slow to respond to the +proffered peace and good will and brotherly kindness, and again we +shall become a prosperous, united, and happy people. + +And what a future lies before our country! What a wealth of uncultivated +fields lies waiting for the plough of the adventurous emigrant! What +unmeasured wilds wait but for the touch of enlightened and educated +labor, to blossom like the rose, to become the site of great cities and +smiling villages, the resting place of the wanderer from all quarters of +the globe, the residence of a great people, the component parts of a +mighty nation whose parallel earth has not seen since the days of the +creation! It needs but ordinary human foresight to see that here is to +be the fountain head, the permanent abiding place, of four great +interests, with which we shall rule the world: manufactures, grain, +cotton, and wine. The Great West is to feed all Europe with her harvests +of yellow grain; the South, with her cotton interest, is to clothe, not +Europe only, but the world; the Pacific States will be the 'vineland' of +America, furnishing the wherewithal to 'gladden the heart of man,' while +the manufactures of New England and the Middle States shall furnish the +implements of labor to the brethren all over the continent, and turn the +raw material both of the South and of their own sheep-feeding hills into +garments for the toiling millions of America. Here, then, we shall +produce, as no other country can, the great staples of life; and when we +add to them those considerable minor interests which we share more +equally with the rest of the world, namely, wool-growing and _mining_, +as well of the precious ores as of coal and the baser metals, how +stupendous seem our resources, how tremendous the influence we are to +wield among the great human family! And is it a necessity of social life +that these great interests should jar? that political and commercial +antagonisms should spring up between these cumulators of the world's +great stock of wealth, for no better reason than that their hands are +engaged upon a different work, or, rather, upon different branches of +the same great work of production? Nay, verily! So long as we are bound +together by a common tie of country, living and working under the same +laws and institutions, such antagonisms can only exist in the trains of +designing demagogues. So far from conflicting, these great interests +will, from the very nature of the law of exchange, work harmoniously +together, blending the one into the other as perfectly fitting parts of +one concordant whole. One section will play into the hands of another, +sustaining each other from the very necessity of self-preservation; and +each will find in his brother the readiest consumer of the products of +his labor. Only in the event of separation can jealousies, antipathies, +and narrow-minded prejudices spring up between the different sections, +and healthy competition be degraded into low and mercenary jobbing; only +by separation can the onward march of the American race be retarded and +the arm of American industry paralyzed. Accursed, then, be the hand that +aims a blow at the foundations of our fair fabric of Liberty; thrice +accursed he whose voice is raised in the promulgation of those +pernicious doctrines whose end is to lead a great people astray. + + + + +GREAT HEART. + + + Great Heart is sitting beneath a tree: + Never a horse upon earth has he; + But he sings to the wind a hearty song, + Leaves of the oak trees rustling along: + 'Over the mountain and over the tide, + Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + There's many a messenger riding past, + And many a skipper whose ship sails fast; + But none of them all, though he rides or rows, + Flies as free as the heart of Great Heart goes, + Free as the eagle and full as the tide: + 'And over the valley and on let us ride!' + + Many a sorrow might Great Heart know, + Thick as the oak leaves which over him grow + Many a trouble might Great Heart feel, + Close as the grass blades under his heel; + But sorrow will never by Great Heart bide, + Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + 'But tell me, good fellow, where Great Heart dwells?' + In the wood, by the sea, in the city's cells; + Where the Honest, the Beautiful, and True + Are free to him as they are to you; + Where the wild birds whistle and waters glide, + Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + Few of his fellows doth Great Heart see; + Seldom he knows where their homes may be; + But the fays of the greenwood are still on earth-- + To many a Great Heart they'll yet give birth; + And thousands of voices will sing in pride, + 'All over the wide world and on let us ride!' + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES + + +LIFE OF CHOPIN. By F. LISZT. Published by F. Leypoldt: +Philadelphia. + +Liszt's Life of Chopin! What a combination of names to wing the +imagination upward into the ethereal regions of beauty, pure art, and +lofty emotion! The imperial pianist discourses upon the genius and +peculiar gifts of his brother musician. Before us arises a vision of the +strong and fiery Hungarian, with clanger of steel, flash of spur, and +ring of hoof, compelling his audiences to attention and enthusiastic +admiration; and also of the gentle-mannered and suffering, but no less +fiery Pole, shrinking from all rude contact, and weaving enchanted +melodies and harmonies, teeming with ever-varying pictures of tender +love, hopeless despair, chivalric daring, religious resignation, +passionate pleading, eloquent disdain, the ardor of battle with the +thunder of artillery, the hut of the peasant with its pastoral +pleasures, and the assemblage of the noble, the distinguished, the +beautiful, with the nameless fascinations of feminine loveliness, the +witching caprices of conscious power,--while through all and above all +glows the memory of the glorious past and mournful present of his +beloved country. The book, in fact, opens a vista into modes of life, +manners of being, and trains of thought little known among us, and hence +is most deeply interesting. The style is eminently suited to the +subject, and the translation of Liszt's French is equal to the original. +This is saying much, but not too much; for when a cognate mind becomes +thoroughly imbued with the spirit of an author, the transmutation of his +ideas into another form of speech becomes a simple and natural process. +To those who already know Chopin and are striving to play his music, +this book will be invaluable, as giving a deep insight into the meaning +and proper mode of rendering his compositions. To those who know nothing +of him, and who are still floundering amid the _fade_ and flimsy +productions that would fain hide their emptiness and vulgarity under the +noble name of music, this life of a true musician will reveal a new +world, a new purpose for the drudgery of daily practice, and the +expenditure of time, patience, and money. + +The work, however, is not alone useful for those especially interested +in music, but, being free from all repulsive technicalities, will be +found highly attractive to the general reader. It contains a subtle +dissection of a deeply interesting character, sketches of Heine, George +Sand, Eugene de la Croix, Mickiewicz, and other celebrities in the world +of literature and art, together with a most vivid portraiture of social +life in Poland, a land which has ever excited so much admiration for its +heroism, and compassion for its misfortunes. + +Mr. Leypoldt, the enterprising publisher of this work, merits the +encouragement of the American people, inasmuch as he has not feared to +risk the publication of a work deemed by many too excellent to be +generally appreciated by our reading community. He however has faith in +the good sense of that community, and so have we. + +Fragmentary portions of Liszt's 'Chopin,' about 60 pages out of 202, +were translated by Mr. Dwight of Boston, and appeared in the 'Journal of +Music.' Those portions were favorably received, and all who thus formed +a partial acquaintance with the work will doubtless desire now to +complete their knowledge, especially as some of the most vivid and +characteristic chapters were omitted. + + +MY DIARY NORTH AND SOUTH. By WILLIAM HOWARD RUSSELL. +T. O. H. P. Burnham. New York: O. S. Felt, 36 Walker Street. 1863. +(Cloth, one dollar; paper covers, fifty cents.) + +It is amusing to read over, at this stage of the war, these letters, in +which the Thunderer, as represented by Mr. Russell, dwindled down to a +very small squib indeed. Few men ever prophesied more brazenly as to the +war,--very few ever had their prophecies so pitiably falsified. Other +men have guessed right now and then, by chance; but poor Russell +contrived, by dint of conceit and natural obtuseness, to make himself as +thoroughly ridiculous to those who should review him in the future as +was well possible. It is, however, to be hoped that these letters will +be extensively read, that the public may now see who and _what_ the +correspondent really was, through whom England was to be specially +instructed as to the merits of this country and its war. When we +remember the advantages which poor Russell enjoyed for acquiring +information, his neglect of matters of importance seems amazing--until +we find, in scores of petty personal matters and silly egotisms, a key +to the whole. He is a small-souled man, utterly incapable of mastering +the great principles involved in this war,--a man petrified in English +conceit, and at the end of his art when, like a twopenny reporter, he +has made a smart little sneer at something or somebody. He writes on +America as Sala wrote on Russia, in the same petty, frivolous vein, with +the same cockney smartness; but fails to be funny, whereas Sala +frequently succeeds. He came here to write for England, not the truth, +but something which his readers _expected_. His object was to supply a +demand, and he did it. He learned nothing, and returned as ignorant, so +far as really _understanding_ the problems he purposed to study, as he +came. Those who can penetrate the depths of such pitiful characters +cannot fail to feel true sorrow that men should exist to whom all life, +all duty, every opportunity to tell great truths and to do good, should +simply appear as opportunities to turn out a _pièce de manufacture_, and +earn salaries. Mr. Russell could have done a great work in these +letters--he leaves the impression on our minds that in _his_ opinion his +boots and his breakfast were to him matters of much more importance than +the future of all North America. + + +WANDERINGS OF A BEAUTY: A Tale of the Real and Ideal. By +MRS. EDWIN JAMES. New York: Carleton. 1863. + +An entertaining little romance, which will be specially acceptable to +the 'regular English novel' devourers--a by no means inconsiderable +proportion of the public. Its heroine--a beauty--moves in English +society, is presented to the Queen, is victimized by a rascally husband +or two, and visits America, where she ends her adventures--_à la Marble +Faun_--rather more obscurely than we could have wished, by 'enduring and +suffering,' but on the whole happily, so far as sentiment is concerned. +As the story contains to perfection every element of the most popular +English novels of the day, yet in a more highly concentrated form than +they usually present, we have no doubt that its sale will be very great. +The volume contains a very beautifully engraved portrait-vignette, +'after a miniature by Thorburn,' which is worth the price of the book, +and is neatly bound. Gentlemen wishing to make an acceptable gift to +novel-reading friends will find the 'Wanderings of a Beauty' well suited +to the purpose. + + +THE PRISONER OF STATE. By D. H. MAHONEY. New York: +Carleton. 1863. + +We may well ask 'what sustains the hopes of the rebels?' when such a +mass of treason as this wretched volume contains is suffered to be +freely published and circulated. That the Administration can find the +force to oppose open foes in the field, and yet make no exertion to +suppress traitors at home who are doing far more than any armed rebels +to reduce our country to ruin, is a paradox for whose solution we have +for some time waited, _not_ by any means in patience. + +That a Copperhead, who from his own account richly deserves the halter, +should have the impudence to publish a complaint of being simply +_imprisoned_, is indeed amusing. But could the mass of vindictiveness, +sophistry, and vulgarity which these pages contain be simply submitted +to impartial and intelligent men, we should have little dread of any +great harm resulting from them. Unfortunately this Copperhead poison, +with its subtle falsehoods and detestable special pleading, its habeas +corpus side-issues and Golden-Circle slanders, is industriously +circulated among many who are still frightened by the old bugbear of +'Abolition,' and who, like the majority in all wars whatever, have +accustomed themselves to grumble at those who conduct hostilities. Such +persons do not reflect that a great crisis requires great measures, and +that in a war involving such a tremendous issue as the preservation of +the Federal Union and the development of the grandest phase which human +progress has ever assumed, we are not to give up everything to our foes +because Mr. Mahoney and a few congenial traitors have, justly or +unjustly, been kept on crackers and tough beef. When a city burns and it +is necessary to blow up houses with gunpowder, it is no time to be +talking of actions for trespass. + +If we had ever had a doubt of the rightfulness of the course which +Government has taken in imprisoning Copperheads, it would have been +removed on reading this miserable book. A man who holds on one page that +every private soldier is to be guided by his own will as regards obeying +orders, and on another sneers at our army as demoralized,--who calls +himself a friend of the Union, and is yet a sympathizer with the enemies +of the Union,--who abuses in the vilest manner our Government and its +officers in a crisis like the present, is one who, according to all +precedents of justice, should be richly punished under military law, if +the civil arm be too weak to grasp him. It was such Democrats as +Mahoney, who yelled out indignantly in the beginning at every measure +which was taken to protect us against the enemy, who, when they had +nearly ruined our cause by their efforts, attributed the results of +their treason to the Administration, and who now, changing their cry, +instead of clamoring for more vigor against the rebels, boldly hurrah +for the rebellion itself. It is strange that they cannot see that they +are now bringing themselves out distinctly as tories, and men to be +branded in history. Do they suppose that such a revolution as this--a +revolution of human rights and free labor against the last great form of +tyranny--is going _backward_? Do the events of the last thirty years +indicate that Southern aristocracy and Copperhead ignorance and evil are +to achieve a final victory over republicanism? Yet it is in this faith, +that demagoguism will be stronger than a great principle, that such men +as Mahoney write and live. + + +WILD SCENES IN SOUTH AMERICA; or, Life in the Llanos of +Venezuela. By DON RAMON PAEZ. New York: Charles Scribner, 124 +Grand Street. + +The work before us takes the reader not only through all the adventures +and chances of the desperate life of the llaneros or herdsmen of South +America, but also gives many startling scenes from the revolutions of +Colombia, embracing an excellent biography of the truly great general +Paez, the friend and colleague of Bolivar. But when we remember that it +contains such a mass of valuable historical material, from the pen of a +son of General Paez, aide-de-camp to his father, and an eyewitness of, +or actor in, some of the bloody scenes of a civil war, and that even the +description of herdsman's life is filled with deeply interesting +scientific records of the natural history and botany of our southern +continent, it seems strange that such a volume could appear under a +title smacking of the veriest book-making for the cheap Western market. + +The writer, Don Ramon Paez, who was born among the people whom he +describes, and was afterward well educated in England, was probably the +best qualified man in South America to depict the life of the llaneros, +of whom his father was long the literal chief. Half of his pages are +occupied with the account of a grand cattle-hunt, involving sufferings +and adventures of a very varied and remarkable description, giving the +world, we believe, the best account of wild herdsman American-Spanish +life ever written. A very curious study of the character of the writer +himself is one of the many interesting traits of this volume. A love of +literature, of science, of much that is beautiful and refined, contrasts +piquantly with occasional glimpses of true Creole character, and of a +son of 'the best horseman in South America,' who is too much at home +among the fierce people whom he describes to fully assume the tone of a +foreigner and amateur. In this latter respect Don Ramon seems to have +been influenced by regarding as models the works of European travellers, +as well as by a very commendable spirit of modesty; for modest he +certainly is when speaking of himself, when we consider the temptations +to self-glorification which his adventures would have presented to any +of the English adventurers of the present day! + +The book cannot fail to be extensively read, since it is not only +entertaining, but instructive. Its sketches of the _causes_ of the +continual civil wars in South America are not only explanatory, but may +serve as a lesson to us in this country to give ourselves heart and soul +to the Union, and to crush out treason and faction by every means in our +power. If the rebels and Copperheads triumph, we shall soon see the +United States reduced to the frightful anarchy of South America. + + + * * * * * + + +THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY. + + +The readers of the CONTINENTAL are aware of the important +position is has assumed, of the influence which it exerts, and of the +brilliant array of political and literary talent of the highest order +which supports it. No publication of the kind has, in this country, so +successfully combined the energy and freedom of the daily newspaper with +the higher literary tone of the first-class monthly; and it is very +certain that no magazine has given wider range to its contributors, or +preserved itself so completely from the narrow influences of party or of +faction. In times like the present, such a journal is either a power in +the land or it is nothing. That the CONTINENTAL is not the +latter is abundantly evidenced _by what it has done_--by the reflection +of its counsels in many important public events, and in the character +and power of those who are its staunchest supporters. + +Though but little more than a year has elapsed since the CONTINENTAL was +first established, it has during that time acquired a strength and a +political significance elevating it to a position far above that +previously occupied by any publication of the kind in America. In proof +of which assertion we call attention to the following facts: + +1. Of its POLITICAL articles republished in pamphlet form, a +single one has had, thus far, a circulation of _one hundred and six +thousand_ copies. + +2. From its LITERARY department, a single serial novel, "Among +the Pines," has, within a very few months, sold nearly _thirty-five +thousand_ copies. Two other series of its literary articles have also +been republished in book form, while the first portion of a third is +already in press. + +No more conclusive facts need be alleged to prove the excellence of the +contributions to the CONTINENTAL, or their _extraordinary +popularity_; and its conductors are determined that it shall not fall +behind. Preserving all "the boldness, vigor, and ability" which a +thousand journals have attributed to it, it will greatly enlarge its +circle of action, and discuss, fearlessly and frankly, every principle +involved in the great questions of the day. The first minds of the +country, embracing the men most familiar with its diplomacy and most +distinguished for ability, are among its contributors; and it is no mere +"flattering promise of a prospectus" to say that this "magazine for the +times" will employ the first intellect in America, under auspices which +no publication ever enjoyed before in this country. + +While the CONTINENTAL will express decided opinions on the +great questions of the day, it will not be a mere political journal: +much the larger portion of its columns will be enlivened, as heretofore, +by tales, poetry, and humor. In a word, the CONTINENTAL will be +found, under its new staff of Editors, occupying a position and +presenting attractions never before found in a magazine. + + +TERMS TO CLUBS. + + Two copies for one year, Five dollars. + Three copies for one year, Six dollars. + Six copies for one year, Eleven dollars. + Eleven copies for one year, Twenty dollars. + Twenty copies for one year, Thirty-six dollars. + +PAID IN ADVANCE. + +_Postage, Thirty-six cents a year_, TO BE PAID BY THE SUBSCRIBER. + + +SINGLE COPIES. + +Three dollars a year, IN ADVANCE. _Postage paid by the Publisher._ + +JOHN F. TROW, 50 Greene St., N. Y., PUBLISHER FOR THE PROPRIETORS. + +[Symbol: hand] As an inducement to new subscribers, the Publisher offers +the following liberal premiums: + +[Symbol: hand] Any person remitting $3, in advance, will receive the +magazine from July, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing the whole of +Mr. KIMBALL'S and Mr. KIRKE'S new serials, which are alone worth the +price of subscription. Or, if preferred, a subscriber can take the +magazine for 1863 and a copy of "Among the Pines," or of "Undercurrents +of Wall Street," by R. B. KIMBALL, bound in cloth, or of "Sunshine in +Thought," by CHARLES GODFREY LELAND (retail price, $1 25.) The book to +be sent postage paid. + +[Symbol: hand] Any person remitting $4 50. will receive the magazine +from its commencement, January, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing +Mr. KIMBALL'S "Was He Successful?" and Mr. KIRKE'S "Among the Pines," +and "Merchant's Story," and nearly 3,000 octavo pages of the best +literature in the world. Premium subscribers to pay their own postage. + + + + +[Illustration: THE FINEST FARMING LANDS +Wheat Corn Cotton Fruits & Vegetables] + +EQUAL TO ANY IN THE WORLD!!! + +MAY BE PROCURED + +~At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE,~ + +Near Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of +Civilization. + +~1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80, 120, 160 Acres and upwards, in +ILLINOIS, the Garden State of America.~ + + * * * * * + +The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the +beautiful and fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their +Railroad, 700 MILES IN LENGTH, upon the most Favorable Terms for +enabling Farmers, Manufacturers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for +themselves and their families a competency, and a HOME they can call +THEIR OWN, as will appear from the following statements: + + +~ILLINOIS.~ + +Is about equal in extent to England, with a population of 1,722,666, and +a soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of the +Mississippi offers so great an inducement to the settler as the State of +Illinois. There is no part of the world where all the conditions of +climate and soil so admirably combine to produce those two great +staples, CORN and WHEAT. + + +~CLIMATE.~ + +Nowhere can the industrious farmer secure such immediate results from +his labor as on those deep, rich, loamy soils, cultivated with so much +ease. The climate from the extreme southern part of the State to the +Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis Railroad, a distance of nearly 200 +miles, is well adapted to Winter. + + +~WHEAT, CORN, COTTON, TOBACCO.~ + +Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, and every variety or fruit and vegetables is +grown in great abundance, from which Chicago and other Northern markets +are furnished from four to six weeks earlier than their immediate +vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton & St. Louis Railway and the +Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, (a distance of 115 miles on the Branch, +and 136 miles on the Main Trunk,) lies the great Corn and Stock raising +portion of the State. + + +~THE ORDINARY YIELD~ + +of Corn is from 50 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep +and Hogs are raised here at a small cost, and yield large profits. It is +believed that no section of country presents greater inducements for +Dairy Farming than the Prairies of Illinois, a branch of farming to +which but little attention has been paid, and which must yield sure +profitable results. Between the Kankakeee and Illinois Rivers, and +Chicago and Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147 +miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Spring Wheat, Corn, &c., are +produced in great abundance. + + +~AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS.~ + +The Agricultural products of Illinois are greater than those of any +other State. The Wheat crop of 1861 was estimated at 85,000,000 bushels, +while the Corn crop yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the +crop of Oats, Barley, Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, +Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clover, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco, +Sorgheim, Grapes, Peaches, Apples, &c., which go to swell the vast +aggregate of production in this fertile region. Over Four Million tons +of produce were sent out the State of Illinois during the past year. + + +~STOCK RAISING.~ + +In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advantages are presented for +the extension of Stock raising. All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules, +Sheep, Hogs, &c., of the best breeds, yield handsome profits; large +fortunes have already been made, and the field is open for others to +enter with the fairest prospects of like results. DAIRY FARMING also +presents its inducements to many. + + +~CULTIVATION OF COTTON.~ + +_The experiments in Cotton culture are of very great promise. Commencing +in latitude 39 deg. 30 min. (see Mattoon on the Branch, and Assumption +on the Main Line), the Company owns thousands of acres well adapted to +the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family of young +children, can turn their youthful labor to a most profitable account in +the growth and perfection of this plant._ + + +~THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD~ + +Traverses the whole length of the State, from the banks of the +Mississippi and lake Michigan to the Ohio. As its name imports, the +Railroad runs through the centre of the State, and on either side of the +road along its whole length lie the lands offered for sale. + + +~CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS, DEPOTS,~ + +There are Ninety-eight Depots on the Company's Railway, giving about one +every seven miles. Cities, Towns and Villages are situated at convenient +distances throughout the whole route, where every desirable commodity +may be found as readily as in the oldest cities of the Union, and where +buyers are to be met for all kinds of farm produce. + + +~EDUCATION.~ + +Mechanics and working-men will find the free school system encouraged by +the State, and endowed with a large revenue for the support of the +schools. Children can live in sight of the school, the college, the +church, and grow up with the prosperity of the leading State in the +Great Western Empire. + + * * * * * + +~PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT--ON LONG CREDIT.~ + +80 acres at $10 per acre, with interest at 8 per ct. annually on the +following terms: + + Cash payment . . . . . . . $ 48.00 + Payment in one year . . . 48.00 + " in two years . . . 48.00 + " in three years . . 48.00 + " in four years . . 236.00 + " in five years . . 224.00 + " in six years . . . 212.00 + " in seven years . . 209.00 + + 40 acres, at $10.00 per acre: + + Cash payment . . . . . . . $ 24.00 + Payment in one year . . . 24.00 + " in two years . . . 24.00 + " in three years . . 24.00 + " in four years . . 118.00 + " in five years . . 112.00 + " in six years . . . 106.00 + " in seven years . . 100.00 + + * * * * * + +Number 18. 25 Cents. + + +THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY. + +DEVOTED TO + +Literature and National Policy. + +JUNE, 1863. + +NEW YORK: JOHN F. TROW 50 GREENE STREET (FOR THE PROPRIETORS). HENRY +DEXTER AND SINCLAIR TOUSEY. WASHINGTON, D. C.: FRANCK TAYLOR + +CONTENTS.--No. XVIII. + + The Value of the Union. By William H. Muller, 633 + + A Merchant's Story. By Edmund Kirke, 642 + + May Morning, 657 + + The Navy of the United States, 659 + + Three Modern Romances, 667 + + Mill on Liberty. By Hon. F. P. Stanton, 674 + + Cloud and Sunshine, 687 + + Is there Anything in It? 688 + + The Confederation and the Nation. By Edward Carey, 694 + + Reason, Rhyme and Rhythm. By Mrs. Martha Walker Cook, 698 + + The Buccaneers of America. By William L. Stone, 703 + + Virginia, 714 + + Visit to the National Academy, 715 + + Was He Successful? By Richard B. Kimball, 719 + + How Mr. Lincoln became an Abolitionist By S. B. Gookins, 727 + + Cost of a Trip to Europe, and how to go Cheaply, 730 + + Touching the Soul. By Egbert Phelps, 1st Lieutenant + 19th Infantry, U. S. A., 734 + + Literary Notices, 744 + + Editor's Table, 747 + +The July No. of the Continental will contain articles by the Hon. +ROBERT J. WALKER, written from England. + +All communications, whether concerning MSS. or on business, should be +addressed to + +JOHN F. TROW Publisher, 50 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK. + +ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by +JOHN F. TROW, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United +States for the Southern District of New York. + +JOHN F. TROW, PRINTER. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. +V, May, 1863, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 19099-8.txt or 19099-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/9/19099/ + +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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No V. by Various Authors. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + + .left {float: left; text-align: left;} + .right {float: right; text-align: right;} + + .author {text-align: right; margin-right: 5%;} + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-top: + 0em; margin-right: 0em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, +May, 1863, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 21, 2006 [EBook #19099] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +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> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h1>CONTINENTAL MONTHLY:</h1> + +<h4>DEVOTED TO</h4> + +<h2>Literature and National Policy.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>VOL. III.—MAY, 1863.—No. V.</h3> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_GREAT_PRAIRIE_STATE">THE GREAT PRAIRIE STATE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_WINTER_IN_CAMP">A WINTER IN CAMP.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#TAMMANY">TAMMANY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#IN_MEMORIAM">IN MEMORIAM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_MERCHANTS_STORY">A MERCHANT'S STORY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SHYLOCK_vs_ANTONIO">SHYLOCK vs. ANTONIO.—OPINION OF THE VICAR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_HEROINE_OF_TO-DAY">A HEROINE OF TO-DAY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SIMONY">SIMONY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NATIONAL_ODE">NATIONAL ODE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SURRENDER_OF_FORTS_JACKSON_AND_ST_PHILIP_ON_THE_LOWER_MISSISSIPPI">THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#REASON_RHYME_AND_RHYTHM">REASON, RHYME, AND RHYTHM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CONTENTS_VOLI">CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#BEAUTY">BEAUTY.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_VALUE_OF_THE_UNION">THE VALUE OF THE UNION.—I.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WAR_SONG_EARTHS_LAST_BATTLE">WAR SONG:—EARTH'S LAST BATTLE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MIRIAMS_TESTIMONY">MIRIAM'S TESTIMONY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NAPOLEONS_TOMB">NAPOLEON'S TOMB.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_DESTINY_OF_THE_AFRICAN_RACE_IN_THE_UNITED_STATES">THE DESTINY OF THE AFRICAN RACE IN THE UNITED STATES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL">WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?</a></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'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_UNION">THE UNION.—VII.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#RHODE_ISLAND">RHODE ISLAND AND DELAWARE COMPARED.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CAUSES_AND_RESULTS_OF_THE_WAR">THE CAUSES AND RESULTS OF THE WAR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#GREAT_HEART">GREAT HEART.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LITERARY_NOTICES">LITERARY NOTICES</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_GREAT_PRAIRIE_STATE" id="THE_GREAT_PRAIRIE_STATE"></a>THE GREAT PRAIRIE STATE.</h2> + + +<p>I should not wonder if some of your readers were less acquainted with +this Western Behemoth of a State than with the republic of San Marino, +which is about as large as a pocket handkerchief. The one has a history, +which the other as yet has not, and of all people in the world, our own +dear countrymen—with all their talk about Niagara, and enormous lakes, +and prodigious rivers—care the least for great natural features of +country, and the most for historical and romantic associations. When an +Englishman, landing at New York, begins at once to inquire for the +prairies, it is only very polite New Yorkers who can refrain from +laughing at him.</p> + +<p>But it is not so much of natural features that I wish to speak at +present. Illinois has been abused lately; brought into discredit by the +misbehavior of some of her sons; but this only makes her loyal friends +love her the more, knowing well how good her heart is, how high-toned +her feeling, how determined her courage.</p> + +<p>Looking at this State from New York, the image is that of a great green +prairie, the monotony of whose surface is scarcely broken by the rivers +which cross it here and there, and the great lines of railroad that +serve as causeways through the desperate mud of spring and winter. A +scattered people, who till the unctuous black soil only too easily, and +leave as much of the crop rotting on the ground through neglect as would +support the entire population; rude though thriving towns, where the +grocery and the tavern, the ball room and the race course are more +lovingly patronized than the church, the Sunday school, and the lyceum; +where party spirit runs high, and elections are attended to, whatever +else may be forgotten; where very unseemly jokes are current, and +language far from choice passes unrebuked in society; in short, where +what are known as 'Western characteristics' bear undisputed sway, making +their natal region anything but a congenial residence for strangers of +an unaccommodating disposition—such is the picture.</p> + +<p>It were useless to deny that most of the points here indicated would be +recognized and placed on his map by a Moral and Social topographer who +should make the tour of the entire State from Cairo to Dunleith, both +inclusive; but it is none the less certain that if he noted only these +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span>he would ill deserve his title. Cicero had a huge, unsightly wart on +his eloquent nose; the fair mother of Queen Elizabeth, a 'supplemental +nail' on one of her beautiful hands; Italy has her Pontine Marshes, New +York city her 'Sixth Ward'; but he must be a green-eyed monster indeed +who would represent these as characteristics. Illinois deserves an +explorer with clear, kind eyes, and a historiographer as genial as +Motley. All in good time. She will 'grow' these, probably. While we are +waiting for them, let us prepare a few jottings for their use.</p> + +<p>A great State is a great thing, certainly, but mere extent or mere +material wealth, without intellectual and social refinement and a high +moral tone, can never excite very deep interest. Not that we can expect +to find every desirable thing actually existent in a country as soon as +it is partially settled and in possession of the first necessities of +human society. But we may expect aspirations after the best things, and +a determination to acquire and uphold them. These United States of +ours—God bless them forever!—have a constitutional provision against +the undue preponderance of physical advantages over those of a higher +kind. Rhode Island (loyal to the core), and Delaware (just loyal enough +to keep her sweet), each sends her two Senators to Congress; and huge +Illinois—whom certain ill-advised Philistines are trying to make a +blind Samson of—can send no more. If we say the State that sends the +best men is the greatest State (for the time, especially the present +time), 'all the people shall answer Amen!' for one loyal heart, just +now, is more precious than millions of fat acres. Whether Illinois could +prudently submit to this appraisal, just at the present moment, remains +to be proved; but that her heart is loyal as well as brave, there can be +no question.</p> + +<p>Without going back, in philosophical style, to the creation of the +world, we may say that the State had a good beginning. Father Marquette +and his pious comrade Allouez, both soldiers of the Cross, explored her +northern wilds for God, and not for greed. They saw her solid and serene +beauty, and presaged her greatness, and they did all that wise and +devoted Catholic missionaries could do toward sanctifying her soil to +good ends forever. They found 'a peaceful and manly tribe' in her +interior, the name Illinois signifying 'men of men,' and the superiority +of the tribe to all the other Indians of the region justifying the +appellation. Allouez said, 'Their country is the best field for the +gospel,' and he planted it as well as he could with what he believed to +be the Tree of Life, long nourished with the prayers and tears of +himself and his successors. The Indians took kindly to the teaching of +the good and wise Frenchman, and it is said that even after troubles had +begun to arise, owing, as usual, to the misconduct of rapacious and +unprincipled white settlers, many of the Indians held fast by their +newly adopted faith, and even showed some good fruits of it in +forbearance and honesty of dealing. All this was not far from +contemporary with the period when Cotton Mather, in New England, while +teaching the principles of civil government, was persecuting Quakers and +burning witches; and in yet another part of the new country, William +Penn, neither Catholic nor Puritan, was making fair and honest treaties +with savages, and winning them, by the negative virtue of truthfulness, +to believe that white men could be friends.</p> + +<p>The Great Colbert, minister to Louis XIV, under whose auspices the +French missionaries had been sent out, very soon came to the conclusion +that it was important to enlarge and strengthen French influence in this +great new country, particularly after he had ascertained the existence +of the 'Great River,' which Father Marquette had undertaken to explore, +and by means<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</a></span> of which he expected to open trade with China! But the +minister of finance required rather more worldly agents than the +single-hearted and devoted ministers of religion, and he found a fitting +instrument in the young and ardent Robert de la Salle, a Frenchman of +enterprise and sagacity, worldly enough in his motives, but of +indomitable energy and perseverance. He was very successful in +establishing commerce in furs and other productions of the country, but +lost his life somewhere near the mouth of the Mississippi, which he +first explored, after escaping a thousand dangers. His name is famous in +the land, and a large town was called after it; but what would he say if +he heard his patronymic transformed into 'Lay-séll,' as it is, +universally, among the 'natives'?</p> + +<p>It is in La Salle's first <i>procès verbal</i> for his government that we +find the first mention of the river 'Chekagou,' a lonely stream then, +but which now reflects a number of houses and stores, tall steeples, +colossal grain depots, and—the splendid edifice which fitly enshrines +the northern terminus of the Illinois Central Railroad, the greatest +railway in the world, and certainly one of the wonders which even the +ambitious and sanguine La Salle never dreamed of; a daily messenger of +light and life through seven hundred miles of country, which, without +it, would have remained a wilderness to this day.</p> + +<p>The first settler on the banks of this now so famous river was a black +man from St. Domingo, Jean Baptiste Point-au-Sable by name, who brought +some wealth with him, and built a residence which must have seemed grand +for that time and place. He did not stay long, however, and the Indians, +who had probably suffered some things from the arrogance of their white +neighbors, thought it a good joke to say that 'the first 'white man' +that settled there was a negro.' Like some other jokes, this one seems +to have rankled deep and long, for to this day Illinois tolerates +neither negro nor Indian. The Indian, <i>as</i> an Indian, has no foothold in +the State; and the negro, even in the guise of born and skilled laborer +in the production of the crops which form the wealth of the country, and +of the new ones which are to be transplanted hither in consequence of +the war, is forbidden, under heavy penalties, to set foot within her +boundaries—the threat of slavery, like a flaming sword, guarding the +entrance of this paradise of the laborer.</p> + +<p>Illinois has not suffered as much in tone and character from +unprincipled speculators as some others of the new States. Her early +settlers were generally men of muscle, mental as well as bodily; men who +did not so much expect to live by their wits and other people's folly, +as by their own industry and enterprise. Among the early inhabitants of +Chicago and other important towns, were some whose talents and character +would have been valuable anywhere. Public spirit abounded, and the men +of that day evidently felt as men should feel who are destined to be the +ancestors of great cities. In 1837, when the business affairs of Chicago +were in a distressing state, and private insolvency was rather the rule +than the exception, many debtors and a few demagogues called a public +meeting, the real though not the avowed object of which was to bring +about some form of repudiation. Some inflammatory suggestions, designed +to excite to desperate thoughts those whose affairs were cruelly +embarrassed, having wrought up the assembly to the point of forgetting +all but the distresses of the moment, a call was made for the mayor, who +came forward, and in a few calm and judicious words besought all present +to pause before they ventured on dishonorable expedients. He entreated +them to bear up with the courage of men, remembering that no calamity +was so great as the loss of self-respect; that it were better for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</a></span> them +to conceal their misfortunes than to proclaim them; that many a fortress +had been saved by the courage of its defenders, and their determination +to conceal its weakened condition at all sacrifices. 'Above all things,' +he said, 'do not tarnish the honor of our infant city!'</p> + +<p>These manly words called up manly thoughts, and the hour of danger +passed by.</p> + +<p>At one time the legislature were induced, by means of various tricks, +together with some touches of that high-handed insolence by which such +things are accomplished, to pass a resolution for a convention to alter +the constitution of the State, with a view to the introduction of +SLAVERY. One of the newspapers ventured an article which exposed the +scandalous means by which the resolutions had been carried through the +House. The 'proofs' of this article were stolen from the printing +office, and the parties implicated in this larceny attempted to induce a +mob to demolish the office and the offending editor. But the pluck which +originated the stinging article sufficed for the defence of the office. +The effort to establish slavery in Illinois was kept up for a year or +more, but the bold editor and other friends of freedom labored +incessantly for the honor of the State, and succeeded at length in +procuring an overwhelming vote against the threatened disgrace.</p> + +<p>Laws against duelling are laughed at in other States, but Illinois made +hers in earnest, affixing the penalty of death to the deliberate killing +of a man, even under the so-called code of honor. This severe law did +not suffice to prevent a fatal duel, the actors of which probably +expected to elude the penalty with the usual facility. The State, +however, in all simplicity, hung the survivor, and from that day to this +has had no further occasion for such severity.</p> + +<p>Of late, the same Personage who has in all ages been disposed to buy +men's souls at his own delusive price, and to make his dupes sign the +infernal contract with their blood, has been very busy in certain parts +of the State, trying to get signatures, under the miserable pretence +that party pays better than patriotism, and that times of whirlwind and +disaster are those in which he, the contractor, has most power to +advance the interests of his adherents. But some of those who listened +most greedily to the glozings of the arch deceiver begin already to +repent, and are ready to call upon higher powers to interfere and efface +the record of their momentary weakness. In all <i>diablerie</i> the <i>fiat</i> of +a superior can release a victim, so we may hope that godlike patriotism +may not only forgive the penitent, but absolve him from the consequences +of his own rash folly. To have been instrumental in dimming for one +moment the glorious escutcheon of Illinois, requires pardon. To such +words as have been spoken by some of her sons we may apply the poet's +sentence:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'To speak them were a deadly sin!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And for having but thought them thy heart within</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A treble penance must be done.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The recent Message of Governor Yates is full of spirit, the right +spirit, a warm and generous, a courageous and patriotic one. He glories +in the great things he has to tell, but it is not 'as the fool +boasteth,' but rather as the apostle, who, when he recounts only plain +and manifest truths, says, 'Bear with me.' And truly, what wonders have +been achieved by the 'men of men'! Since the war began, Illinois, though +she has given one hundred and thirty-five thousand of her able-bodied +men to the field, and though the closing of the Mississippi has produced +incalculable loss, has sent away food enough to supply ten millions of +people, and she has now remaining, of last year's produce, as much as +can be shipped in a year. This enormous productiveness has given rise to +the idea that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span> Illinois is principally a grain-growing State, but she +none the less possesses every requisite for commerce and manufactures. +Not content even in war time with keeping up all her old sources of +wealth, she has added to the list the production of sugar, tobacco, and +even cotton, all of which have been found to flourish in nearly every +portion of the State. The seventh State in point of population in 1850, +she was the fourth in 1860, and in the production of coal she has made a +similar advance. In railroads she is in reality the first, though +nominally only the second; possessing three thousand miles, intersecting +the State in all directions. Ten years ago the cost of all the railroad +property within her bounds was about $1,500,000; in 1860 it was +$104,944,561—an instance of progress unparalleled. But these are not +the greatest things.</p> + +<p>Education receives the most enlightened attention, and all that the +ruling powers can accomplish in persuading the people to avail +themselves of the very best opportunities for mental enlargement and +generous cultivation is faithfully done. It is for the people themselves +to decide whether they will be content with the mere rudiments of +education, or accept its highest gifts, gratis, at the hands of the +State. If the pursuit of the material wealth which lies so temptingly +around them should turn aside their thoughts from this far greater boon, +or so pervert their minds as to render them insensible to its value, +they will put that material wealth to shame. It is true that in some +cases the disgust felt by loyal citizens at infamous political +interference may have operated to prevent their sending their children +to school; but these evils are sectional and limited, and the schools +themselves will, before long, so enlighten the dark regions as to render +such stupidity impossible. It is to the infinite credit of the State +that since the war began there has been no diminution, but on the +contrary, an increase in schools, both private and public, in number of +pupils, teachers, school houses, and amount of school funds. Of eight +thousand two hundred and twenty-three male teachers in 1860, <i>three +thousand</i> went to the war, showing that it is among her most intelligent +and instructed classes that we are to look for the patriotism of +Illinois. The deficiency thus created operated legitimately and +advantageously in giving employment to a greatly increased number of +female teachers.</p> + +<p>As to patriotism, let not the few bring disgrace upon the many. It is +true that scarcely a day passes unmarked by the discovery that some +grovelling wretch has been writing to the army to persuade soldiers to +desert on political grounds; yet as these disgraceful letters, as +published in the papers, give conclusive proof of the utter ignorance of +their writers, we must not judge the spirit of the State by them, any +more than by the louder disloyal utterances of men who have not their +excuse. Governor Yates speaks for the PEOPLE when he says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Our State has stood nobly by the Constitution and the Union. She +has not faltered for a moment in her devotion. She has sent her +sons in thousands to defend the Flag and avenge the insults heaped +upon it by the traitor hordes who have dared to trail it in the +dust. On every battle field she has poured out her blood, a willing +sacrifice, and she still stands ready to do or die. She has sent +out also the Angel of Mercy side by side with him who carries the +flaming sword of War. On the battle field, amid the dying and the +dead; in the hospital among the sick and wounded of our State, may +be seen her sons and daughters, ministering consolation and +shedding the blessings of a divine charity which knows no fear, +which dreadeth not the pestilence that walketh by night or the +bullet of the foe by day.'</p></div> + +<p>Governor Yates himself, on receiving intelligence of the battle of Fort +Donelson, repaired at once to the scene of suffering, feeling—like the +lamented Governor Harvey of Wisconsin, who lost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span> his life in the same +service—that where public good is to be done, the State should be +worthily and effectively represented by her chief executive officer. +There on the spot, trusting to no hearsay, Mr. Yates, while distributing +the bounteous stores of which he was the bearer, ascertained by actual +observation the condition and wants of the troops, and at once set about +devising measures of relief. After Shiloh, that Golgotha of our brave +boys, the Governor organized a large corps of surgeons and nurses, and +went himself to Pittsburg Landing to find such suffering and such +destitution as ought never to exist on the soil of our bounteous land, +under any possible conjuncture of circumstances, however untoward and +unprecedented. Without surgeons or surgical appliances, without hospital +supplies, and, above all, worse than all, without SYSTEM, there lay the +defenders of our national life, their wounds baking in the hot sun, +worms devouring their substance while yet the breath of life kept their +desolate hearts beating. Doing all that could be done on the spot, and +bringing away all who could be brought, the Governor returned, sending +the adjutant-general back on the same errand, and going himself a second +time as soon as a new supply of surgeons and sanitary stores, +contributed by private kindness, could be got together. And so on, as +long as the necessity existed. The great expenses involved in the relief +and transportation of many thousands of sick and wounded, expenses +unusual and not provided for by law, were gladly borne by the State, and +careful provision was made against the recurrence of the evil. May our +Heavenly Father in His great mercy so order the future as to make these +preparations unnecessary, wise and humane though they be! Says Governor +Yates:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I have hope for my country, because I think the right policy has +been adopted. There remains but one other thing to make my +assurance doubly sure; and that is, I want to see no divisions +among the friends of the Union in the loyal States. Could I know +that the people of the Free States were willing to ignore party, +and resolved to act with one purpose and one will for the vigorous +prosecution of the war and the restoration of the Union, then I +should have no doubt of a happy end to all our difficulties. * * *</p> + +<p>'If the members of this General Assembly, and the press and people +of Illinois, in the spirit of lofty patriotism, could lay aside +everything of a party character, and evince to the country, to our +army, and, especially to the secession States, that we are one in +heart and sentiment for every measure for the vigorous prosecution +of the war, it would have a more marked effect upon the suppression +of the rebellion than great victories achieved over the enemy upon +the battle field. For, when the North shall present an undivided +front—a stern and unfaltering purpose to exhaust every available +means to suppress the rebellion, then the last prop of the latter +will have fallen from under it, and it will succumb and sue for +peace. Should divisions mark our councils, or any considerable +portion of our people give signs of hesitation, then a shout of +exultation will go up, throughout all the hosts of rebeldom, and +bonfires and illuminations be kindled in every Southern city, +hailing our divisions as the sure harbingers of their success. We +must stand by the President, and send up to him, and to our brave +armies in the field, the support of an undivided sentiment and one +universal cheer from the masses of all the loyal States. The stern +realities of actual war have produced unanimity among our soldiers +in the army. With them the paltry contests of men for political +power dwindle into insignificance before the mightier question of +the preservation of the national life. Coming into closer contact +with Southern men and society, the sentiments of those who looked +favorably upon Southern institutions have shifted round. They have +now formed their own opinions of the proper relations of the +Federal Government to them, which no sophistry of the mere +politician can ever change. Seeing for themselves slavery and its +effects upon both master and slave, they learn to hate it and swear +eternal hostility to it in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</a></span> hearts. Fighting for their +country, they learn doubly to love it. Fighting for the Union, they +resolve to preserve, at all hazards, the glorious palladium of our +liberties.</p> + +<p>'I believe this infernal rebellion can be, ought to be, and will be +subdued. The land may be left a howling waste, desolated by the +bloody footsteps of war, from Delaware bay to the gulf, but our +territory shall remain unmutilated—the country shall be one, and +it shall be free in all its broad boundaries, from Maine to the +gulf, and from ocean to ocean.</p> + +<p>'In any event, may we be able to act a worthy part in the trying +scenes through which we are passing; and should the star of our +destiny sink to rise no more, may we feel for ourselves and may +history preserve our record clear before heaven and earth, and hand +down the testimony to our children, that we have done all, perilled +and endured all, to perpetuate the priceless heritage of Liberty +and Union, unimpaired to our posterity.'</p></div> + +<p>And in this fervid utterance of our warm-hearted Governor, the free +choice of a free people, let us consider Illinois as expressing her +honest sentiments.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_WINTER_IN_CAMP" id="A_WINTER_IN_CAMP"></a>A WINTER IN CAMP.</h2> + + +<p>I was painfully infusing my own 'small Latin and less Greek' into the +young Shakspeares of a Western college, when the appointment of a friend +to the command of the ——th Iowa regiment opened to me a place upon his +staff. Three days afterward, in one of the rough board-shanties of Camp +McClellan, I was making preparations for my first dress parade. The less +said of the <i>dress</i> of that parade, the better. There was no lack of +comfortable clothing, but every man had evidently worn the suit he was +most willing to throw away when his Uncle Samuel presented him with a +new one; and a regiment of such suits drawn up in line, made but a sorry +figure in comparison with the smartly uniformed ——th, which had just +left the ground. Their colonel, in the first glory of his sword and +shoulder straps, was replaced by a very rough-looking individual, with a +shabby slouched hat pushed far back on his head, and a rusty overcoat, +open just far enough to show the place where a cravat might have been. +It was very plain, as he stood there with his arms folded, thin lips +compressed, and gray eyes hardly visible under their shaggy brows, that +whether he <i>looked</i> the colonel or not was the last thought likely to +trouble him. I fancied that he did, in spite of all, and that he saw a +great deal of good stuff in the party-colored rows before him, which he +would know how to use when the right moment came: subsequent events +proved that I was not mistaken. The regiment had no reason to be ashamed +of their rough colonel, even when the two hundred that were left of them +laid down their arms late in the afternoon of that bloody Sabbath at +Shiloh, on the very spot where the swelling tide of rebels had beaten +upon them like a rock all day long.</p> + +<p>But these after achievements are no part of my present story. The more +striking passages of this great war for freedom will be well and fully +told. Victories like Donelson, death-struggles like that on the plains +of Shiloh, will take their place in ample proportions on the page of +history. As years roll on they will stand out in strong re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span>lief, and be +the mountain tops which receding posterity will still recognize when all +the rest has sunk beneath the horizon. It were well that some record +should also be made of the long and dull days and weeks and months that +intervened between these stirring incidents: at least that enough should +be told of them to remind our children that they existed, and in this as +in all other wars, made up the great bulk of its toils. This indeed +seems the hardest lesson for every one but soldiers to learn. Few but +those who have had actual experience know how small a part fighting +plays in war; how little of the soldier's hardships and privations, how +little of his dangers even are met upon the battle field. Tame as +stories of barrack life must seem when we are thrilling with the great +events for which that life furnishes the substratum, it is worth our +while, for the sake of this lesson, to give them also their page upon +the record, to spread these neutral tints in due proportion upon the +broad canvas. It is partly for this reason that I turn back to sketch +the trivial and monotonous scenes of a winter in barracks. It is well to +remind you, dear young friends, feminine and otherwise, at home, that a +great many days and nights of patient labor go to one brilliant battle. +When your loudest huzzas and your sweetest smiles are showered on the +lucky ones who have achieved great deeds and walked through the red +baptism of fire, remember also how much true courage and fortitude have +been shown in bearing the daily hardships of the camp, without the +excitement of hand-to-hand conflict.</p> + +<p>The new uniforms came at last, and all the slang epithets with which our +regiment had been received were duly transferred to the newly arrived +squads of the next in order. Then we began to speculate on the time and +mode of our departure. It was remarkable how keenly the most contented +dispositions entered into these questions. There is in military life a +monotony of routine, and at the same time a constant mental excitement, +that make change—change of some sort, even from better to worse—almost +a necessity. I had already stretched myself in my bunk one evening, and +was half asleep, when I heard joyful voices cry out, 'That's good!' and +unerring instinct told me that orders had come for the ——th to move. +On the third day again we stood in our ranks upon the muddy esplanade of +the Benton Barracks, patiently waiting for the A. A. A. G. and the P. Q. +M. to get through the voluminous correspondence which was to result in +quarters and rations. At least twenty thousand men were crowded at that +time into this dismal quadrangle. Perseverance and patience could +overcome the prevalent impression at the commissary that every new +regiment was a set of unlawful intruders, to be starved out if possible, +but could not conquer the difficulty of crowding material bodies into +less space than they had been created to fill. Two companies had to be +packed into each department intended for one. As for 'field and staff,' +they were worse off than the privates, and took their first useful +lesson in the fact that they were by no means such distinguished +individuals in the large army as they had been when showing off their +new uniforms at home. It must have been comforting to over-sensitive +privates to hear how colonels and quartermasters were snubbed in their +turn by the 'general staff.' The regimental headquarters, where these +crest-fallen dignitaries should have laid their weary heads, were +tenanted by Captains A., who had a pretty wife with him, and B., who +gave such nice little suppers, and C., whose mother was first cousin to +the ugly half-breed that blew the general's trumpet from the roof of the +great house in the centre. Wherefore the colonel, the surgeon, the +chaplain, the quartermaster, and the 'subscriber' were content to spread +their blankets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span> for the first night with a brace of captains, on the +particularly dirty floor of Company F., and dream those 'soldier dreams' +in which Mrs. Soldier and two or three little soldiers—assorted +sizes—run down to the garden gate to welcome the hero home again, while +guardian angels clap their wings in delight and take a receipt for him +as 'delivered in good order and well-conditioned' to the deities that +preside over the domestic altar.</p> + +<p>Such dreams as these were easy matters for most of us, who had no +experience. With our regimental colors fresh from the hands of the two +inevitable young ladies in white, who had presented them (with remarks +suitable to the occasion), we saw nothing before us but a march of +double quick to 'glory or the grave.' Luckily we had cooler heads among +us: men who had fought in Mexico, camped in the gulches of California, +drilled hordes of Indians in South America, led men in desperate +starving marches over the plains. These went about making us comfortable +in a very prosaic, practical way. The first call for volunteers from the +ranks was not to defend a breach or lead a forlorn hope, as we had +naturally expected, but—for carpenters. They were set to knocking down +the clumsy bunks in the men's quarters and rebuilding them in more +convenient shape, piercing the roof for ventilators, building shanties +for the dispensary and the quartermaster's stores. Colonel and chaplain +made a daily tour of the cook rooms and commissary, smelt of meat, +tasted hard bread, dived into dinner pots, examined coffee grounds to +see whether any of the genuine article had accidentally got mixed with +the post supply of burnt peas. The surgeon commenced vaccinating the +men, and taking precautions against every possible malady, old age, I +believe, included. Meanwhile the adjutant and the sergeant-major shut +themselves up in a back room like a counting house, and were kept busy +copying muster rolls, posting huge ledger-like books, making out daily +and nightly returns, receiving and answering elaborate letters from the +official personages in the next building. The company officers and men +were assigned their regular hours for drill, as well as for everything +else that men could think of doing in barracks. In short, we found +ourselves all drawn into the operations of a vast, cumbrous, slow-moving +machine, with a great many more cogs than drivers, through which no +regiment or any other body could pass rapidly. The time required in our +case was nearly three months.</p> + +<p>How much of this delay was necessary or beneficial I leave for wiser +military critics than myself to discuss. The complaint it awakened at +the time has almost been forgotten in the glory of the achievements +which followed when the great army actually began to move. Perhaps it is +remembered only by those who mourn the brave young hearts that never +reached the battle field, but perished in the inglorious conflict with +disease and idleness. Few appreciate the fearful loss suffered from +these causes, unless they were present from day to day, watching the +regular morning reports, or meeting the frequent burial squads that +thronged the road to the cemetery. Even in a place like St. Louis, with +amply provided hospitals, and all the appliances of medical skill at +hand, men died at a rate which would have carried off half the army +before its three years' service expired. And of these deaths by far the +greater portion were the direct consequence of idleness and its +consequent evils in camp. The healthiest body of troops I saw in +Missouri were busy night and day with scouting parties, and living in +their tents upon a bleak hilltop, ten miles from the nearest hospital or +surgeon. When their regiment was concentrated after four months' +service, this company alone marched in the hundred and one men it had +brought from home, not a single man missing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</a></span> or on the sick list. +Perhaps another such instance could scarcely be found in the whole army.</p> + +<p>But it was not by death alone that precious material wasted faster than +a whole series of battles could carry it off. Under such circumstances +the living rot as well as the dead. Physically and morally the men +deteriorate for want of occupation that interests them. Most of our +Western volunteers were farmers' boys, fresh from an active, outdoor +life. They were shut up in the barracks, with no exercise but three or +four hours of monotonous drill, no outdoor life but a lounge over the +level parade ground, and no amusements but cards and the sutler's shop. +Their very comforts were noxious. The warm, close barracks in which they +spent perhaps twenty hours out of the twenty-four, would enervate even a +man trained to sedentary habits; and the abundant rations of hot food, +consumed with the morbid appetite of men who had no other amusement, +rendered them heavy and listless. In our regiment, at least, it was +absolutely necessary to cut down the rations of certain articles, as for +instance of coffee, and to prevent their too frequent use. The cooks +told us that it was not an uncommon thing for a man to consume from four +to six quarts of hot coffee at the three meals of a single day.</p> + +<p>Upon their minds the influence was even greater than upon their bodies. +More enthusiastic soldiers never assembled in the world than came up +from all parts of the country to the various rendezvous of our +volunteers. This is not merely the partial judgment of a fellow +countryman. In conversation with old European officers of great +experience, who had spent the autumn in instructing different regiments, +I have heard testimony to this effect more flattering than anything +which I, as an American, should dare to say. Of course a part of this +enthusiasm was founded on an illusion which experience must sooner or +later have dispelled; but wise policy would have husbanded it as long as +possible, by putting them into service which should at the same time +have fed their love of adventure and given them practice in arms. Even +as a matter of drill—which to some of our officers seems to be the +great end, and not merely the means of a soldier's life—this would have +been an advantage. The drill of a camp of instruction is not only +monotonous, but meaningless, because neither officers nor men are yet +alive to its practical application. Had these men been placed at once +where something <i>seemed</i> to depend on their activity, instruction in +tactics would have been eagerly sought after, instead of being looked +upon as an irksome daily task. Nor would it have been necessary for this +purpose to place raw troops in positions of critical importance. The +vast extent of our line of operations, and the wide tracts of +disaffected country which were, or <i>might easily have been</i>, left behind +it, offered an ample field for a training as thorough as the most rigid +martinet could desire, at a safe distance from any enemy in force, but +where they would have been kept under the <i>qui vive</i> by the belief that +something was intrusted to them. Drill or no drill, I do not think there +was a colonel in the barracks who did not know that his men would have +been worth more if marched from the place of enlistment directly into +the open field, than they were after months in a place where the whole +tendency was to chill their patriotism by making them feel useless, and +to wear off the fine edge of their patriotism by subjection to the +merest mechanical process of instruction.</p> + +<p>But without dwelling longer on a subject still so delicate as this, let +it be said that the advantages of the camp of instruction were +principally with the officers. These really learned many things they +needed to know, and perhaps unlearned some that they needed as much to +forget. I have hinted already at one of these latter lessons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</a></span>—that of +their own insignificance. Familiarity breeds contempt, even with +shoulder straps. It did the captains and majors and colonels, each of +whom had been for a time the particular hero of his own village or +county, not a little good to find themselves lost in the crowd, and +quite overshadowed by the stars of the brigadiers. Even these latter did +not look quite so portentous and dazzling when we saw them in whole +constellations, paling their ineffectual rays before the luminary of +headquarters. Many an ambitious youth, who had come from home with very +grand though vague ideas of the personal influence he was to have upon +the country's destinies, found it a wholesome exercise to stand in the +mud at the gate all day as officer of the guard, and touch his hat +obsequiously to the general staff. If there was good stuff in him he +soon got over the first disappointment, and learned to put his shoulder +more heartily to that of his men, when he found that his time was by no +means too valuable to be chiefly spent in very insignificant +employments. Some few, it is true, never could have done this, even if +they had been brayed in a mortar. I remember one fussy little cavalry +adjutant, who never allowed a private to pass him without a salute, or +sit down in his presence. I lost sight of the fellow soon afterward, but +it was with great satisfaction that I saw his name gazetted a week or +two since, 'dismissed the service.'</p> + +<p>As for regular instruction in tactics, there was perhaps as much as the +nature of the case admitted, to wit, none at all. Every now and then a +fine system would be organized, and promulgated in general orders. +Sometimes a series of recitations were prescribed that would have +dismayed a teachers' institute. Field officers were to say their lessons +every evening at headquarters, and head classes from their own line in +the forenoon. The company officers in turn were to teach +non-commissioned ideas how to shoot. Playing truant was strictly +forbidden; careless officers who should 'fail to acquire the lesson set +for them' were to be reported, and, I presume, the unlucky man who +missed a question would have seen 'the next' go above him till the +bright boy of each class had worked his way up to the head. These +systems did <i>not</i> prove a failure: they simply never went at all, but +were quietly and unanimously ignored by teacher and teachee. Every man +was left to thumb his Hardee in private, and find out what he lacked by +his daily blunders on drill. These furnished ample subject for private +study, as well as for animated discussion among the other military +topics that occupied our leisure. Emulation and the fear of ridicule +kept even the most indolent at work.</p> + +<p>It was amusing to see how rapidly the <i>esprit de corps</i>—their own +favorite word, which they took infinite pleasure in repeating on all +occasions—grew upon our newly made warriors. How learned they were upon +all the details of 'the service,' and how particularly jealous of the +honors and importance of their own particular 'arm!' I used to listen +with infinite relish to the discussion in our colonel's quarters, which +happened to be a favorite rendezvous for the field officers of some half +dozen different regiments, during the idle hours of the long winter +evenings. No matter how the conversation commenced, it was sure to come +down to this at last, and cavalry, infantry, and artillery blazed away +at each other in a voluble discussion that was like Midshipman Easy's +triangular duel multiplied by six.</p> + +<p>'There's no use talking, colonel, you never have done anything against +us in a fair hand-to-hand fight, and you never can.'</p> + +<p>(<i>You</i> on this occasion may be supposed to be cavalry, personified in a +long, lantern-jawed attorney from Iowa, while <i>us</i> stands for infantry, +represented by an ex-drover from Indiana.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Never done anything, eh?' replies the attorney, who, on the strength of +a commission and mustache of at least six months' date, ranks as quite a +veteran in the party; 'what did you do at Borodino? Pretty show you made +there when we came charging down upon you!'</p> + +<p>'Oh, that was all somebody's fault—what's his name's, you know, that +commanded there. Didn't find those charges work so well at Waterloo, did +you?' Thus the ex-drover, fresh from the perusal of Halleck on Military +Science.</p> + +<p>'Ah, but you see they could not stand our grape and canister,' +interposes artillery (Major Phelim O. Malley, now of the 99th Peoria +Battery, till last month real-estate and insurance broker, No.—— +Dearborn street, basement).</p> + +<p>'If we ploy into a hollow square'—</p> + +<p>'Yes, but you see we come down obliquely and cut off your corners'—</p> + +<p>'All they want then is a couple of field pieces; zounds, sir!'—(the +major has found this expletive in Lever's novels, and adopted it as +particularly becoming to a military man.)</p> + +<p>'Echelon—charge—right guides—Buny Visty—Austerlitz'—</p> + +<p>Meanwhile old Brazos and the Swiss major sit grimly silent, one nursing +his lame shin, where the Mexican bullet struck him, the other drawing +hard on his pipe and puffing out wreaths of smoke that hang like +Linden's 'sulphurous canopy' over the combatants. I have no doubt a +great deal of excellent tactics was displayed in these discussions; +still less, if possible, that the zeal of the disputants was all the +more creditable to them for their peaceful antecedents during their +whole lives; but the ludicrous side of the scene was brought out all the +more strongly by the silence of these old soldiers, who alone out of the +whole party had ever seen what men actually could and did do on the +battle field.</p> + +<p>Sometimes these conversations took a high range, and dwelt upon the +causes and the policy of the contest in which we were engaged. I do not +think, however, that these were half so much talked or thought of among +the officers as in the barracks of the men; and it is only justice to +add, that among a large class of the privates I have heard them +discussed with a clearness, a freedom from all prejudices and present +interests, that surpassed the average deliberations of the shoulder +straps. There never probably was so large an army assembled in the world +where so great a proportion of the intelligence could be found in the +ranks. Marked individual instances were constantly met with. There was +at least one corporal in the ——th, who occupied his leisure hours with +the Greek Testament, that the time spent in fighting for his country +might not be all lost to his education for the ministry. I hope the +noble fellow will preach none the less acceptably without the arm that +he left at Donelson. Another of our non-commissioned officers was a +member of the Iowa Legislature. Could there be a happier illustration of +the fine compliment paid by President Lincoln in his message of last +summer to the rank and file of our army? Pity it must be added that no +representations could procure him a furlough to allow him to take his +seat during the session. Had he been a colonel, with $3,000 a year, the +path would have been wide and smooth that led from his duties in the +camp to his seat in Congress, or any other good place he was lucky +enough to fill.</p> + +<p>This, by the way, is only one instance of the greatest defect in our +volunteer system: the broad and almost impassable gulf of demarcation +between commissioned officers and enlisted men. The character of the +army requires that this should be eradicated as soon as possible. +Enthusiastic patriotism might make men willing to bear with it for a +time, or while the war seemed a temporary affair. But since the +conviction has settled down upon the popu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span>lar mind that we are in for a +long and tedious struggle, and that a great army of American citizens +must be kept on foot during the whole of it, overshadowing all peaceful +pursuits, and remoulding the whole character of our people, there begins +to be felt also the need of organizing that army as far as possible in +conformity with the genius of our people and Government. The greenest +recruit expects to find in the army a sharp distinction of rank, and a +strict obedience to authority, to which he has been a stranger in +peaceful times. But he is disappointed and discouraged when he finds a +needless barrier erected to divide men into two classes, of which the +smallest retains to itself all the profits and privileges of the +service. He comprehends very well that a captain needs higher pay and +more liberty than a private, and a general than a captain; but he fails +to see the reason why a second lieutenant should have four or five times +the pay of an orderly sergeant, and be officially recognized all through +the army regulations as a gentleman, while he who holds the much more +arduous and responsible office is simply an 'enlisted man,' It will be +much easier for him to discover why this is so than to find any good +reason why it should remain so. We are managing an army of half a +million by the routine intended for one of ten thousand, and we are +organizing citizen volunteers under regulations first created for the +most dissimilar army to be found in the civilized world. We adopted our +army system from England, where there are widely and perpetually +distinct classes of society in peace as well as war; the nobility and +gentry furnishing all the officers, while the ranks are filled up with +the vast crowd, poor and ignorant enough to fight for sixpence a day. To +our little standing army of bygone days the system was well enough +adapted, for in that we too had really two distinct classes of men. West +Point furnished even more officers than we needed, with thorough +education, and the refined and expensive habits that education brings +with it. The ranks were filled with foreigners and broken-down men, who +had neither the ambition nor the ability to rise to anything higher. But +we have changed all that. The healthiest and best blood of our country +is flowing in that country's cause. Our army is composed of more than +half a million citizens, young, eager, ambitious, and trained from +infancy each to believe himself the equal of any man on earth. With the +privates under their command the officers have for the most part been +playmates, schoolmates, associates in business, all through life. A +trifle more of experience or of energy, or the merest accident sometimes +has made one captain, while the other has gone into the ranks; but +unless those men were created over again, you could not make between +them the difference that the army regulations contemplate. Once off +duty, there is nothing left to found it on.</p> + +<p>'I say, Jack,' said an officer at Pittsburg Landing to an old crony who +was serving as private in another company, 'where did you get that +turkey?'</p> + +<p>'Well, cap, I want to know first whether you ask that question as an +officer or as a friend.'</p> + +<p>'As a friend, of course, Jack.'</p> + +<p>'Then it's none of your d—— business, Tom!'</p> + +<p>The difference in pay is not only too great, but is made up in a way +that shows its want of reason. Both have lived on the same fare all +their lives, and the captain knows that it is an absurdity for him to be +drawing the price of four rations a day on the supposition that he has +been luxuriously trained, while in reality he satisfies his appetite +with the same plain dishes served out to his brother in the ranks. He +knows that it is an absurdity for him to receive a large pay in order to +support his family according to their supposed rank, while the private's +wife and children are to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span> be made comfortable out of thirteen dollars a +month; the fact being that Mrs. Captain and Mrs. Private probably live +next door to each other at home, and exchange calls and groceries, and +wear dresses from the same piece, and talk scandal about each other, all +in as neighborly a manner as they have been accustomed to do all their +lives. Indeed, whatever aristocracy of wealth and elegance was growing +up among us has been set back at least a generation by this war, which +has brought out into such prominent notice and elevated so high in our +hearts the rougher merits of the strong arm and the dextrous hand. Every +month sees a larger proportion of officers coming from among those whose +habits have been the reverse of luxury. It is hard to say which would be +more mischievous and absurd: for these to spend their extra pay and +rations in an effort to copy the traditional style of an English +Guardsman, or to keep on in their old way of life, and pocket large +savings that are supposed to be thus spent.</p> + +<p>We need therefore to root out entirely this division of the army into +two classes. Let the scale of rank and pay rise by regular steps from +corporal to general, so that the former may be as much or as little a +'commissioned officer' as his superiors. Abolish all invidious +distinctions by a regular system of promotions from the ranks, and only +from the ranks, except so far as West Point and kindred schools furnish +men educated to commence active service at a higher round of the ladder. +Then we shall have an army into which the best class of our youth can go +as privates without feeling that they have more to dread in their own +camps than on the battle field.</p> + +<p>No doubt there would be an outcry against such a change from those who +have been accustomed to the old system and enjoyed its benefits. This of +itself would be no great obstacle, unless supported by a vague +impression among the people at large that there must be some good reason +for the present state of things, and that civilians had better not +meddle with it. I see them sinking down covered with confusion when some +red-faced old 'regular' bursts out upon them with 'Stuff, sir! What do +<i>you</i> know about military matters?' The best answer to this is, that +other nations, like the French, have set us the example, though by no +means so well provided with intelligent material to draw from in the +ranks; and that in fact England and the United States are about the only +countries in which the evil is allowed to exist. In both of these it has +remained from the fact that the body of the citizens have never been +interested in the rank and file of the army. In this country we have now +an entirely new state of things to provide for; and Yankee ingenuity +must hide its head for shame if a very few years do not give us a +republican army better organized and more efficient than any the world +has yet seen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TAMMANY" id="TAMMANY"></a>TAMMANY.</h2> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And at their meeting all with one accord</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cried: 'Down with <span class="smcap">Lincoln</span> and Fort Lafayette!'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But while jails stand and some men fear the <span class="smcap">Lord</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">How <i>can</i> ye tell what ye may chance to get?</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IN_MEMORIAM" id="IN_MEMORIAM"></a>IN MEMORIAM.</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the dim and misty shade of the hazel thicket,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three soldiers, brave Harry, and Tom with the dauntless eyes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And light-hearted Charlie, are standing together on picket,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Keeping a faithful watch 'neath the starry skies.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Silent they stand there, while in the moonlight pale</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their rifle barrels and polished bayonets gleam;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nought is heard but the owl's low, plaintive wail,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And the soft musical voice of the purling stream;</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Save when in whispering tones they speak to each other</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of the dear ones at home in the Northland far away,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each leaving with each a message for sister and mother,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If he shall fall in the fight that will come with the day.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Slowly and silently pass the hours of the night,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The east blushes red, and the stars fade one by one;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sun has risen, and far away on the right</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The booming artillery tells that the fight is begun.</span><br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Steady, boys, steady; now, forward! charge bayonet!'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Onward they sweep with a torrent's resistless might;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the rebels' life-blood their glittering blades are wet,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And many a patriot falls in the desperate fight.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The battle is ended—the victory won—but where</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are Harry and Charlie, and Tom with the dauntless eyes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who went forth in the morn, so eager to do and to dare?—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Alas! pale and pulseless they lie 'neath the starry skies.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Together they stood 'mid the storm of leaden rain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Together advanced and charged on the traitor knaves,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Together they fell on the battle's bloody plain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To-morrow together they'll sleep in their lowly graves.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A father's voice fails as he reads the list of the dead,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a mother's heart is crushed by the terrible blow;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet there's something of pride that gleams through the tears they shed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pride, e'en in their grief, that their boys fell facing the foe.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And though the trumpet of fame shall ne'er tell their story,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nor towering monument mark the spot where they lie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet round their memory lingers an undying glory:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They gave all they could to their country—they only could die.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[Pg 528]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_MERCHANTS_STORY" id="A_MERCHANTS_STORY"></a>A MERCHANT'S STORY.</h2> + +<p class='center'>'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.'</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h3> + +<p>I found Selma plunged in the deepest grief. The telegram which informed +her of Preston's death was dated three days before (it had been sent to +Goldsboro for transmission, the telegraph lines not then running to +Newbern), and she could not possibly reach the plantation until after +her father's burial; but she insisted on going at once. She would have +his body exhumed; she must take a last look at that face which had never +beamed on her but in love!</p> + +<p>Frank proposed to escort her, but she knew he could not well be spared +from business at that season; and, with a bravery and self-reliance not +common to her years and her sex, she determined to go alone.</p> + +<p>Shortly after my arrival at the house, she retired to her room with +Kate, to make the final arrangements for the journey; and I seated +myself with David, Cragin, and Frank, in the little back parlor, which +the gray-haired old Quaker and his son-in-law had converted into a +smoking room.</p> + +<p>As Cragin was lighting his cigar, I said to him:</p> + +<p>'Have you heard the news?'</p> + +<p>'What news?'</p> + +<p>'The dissolution of Russell, Rollins & Co.'</p> + +<p>'No; there's nothing so good stirring. But you'll hear it some two years +hence.'</p> + +<p>'Read that;' and I handed him the paper which Hallet had signed.</p> + +<p>'What is it, father?' asked Frank, his face alive with interest.</p> + +<p>'Cragin will show it to you, if it ever gets through his hair. I reckon +he's learning to read.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I believe I <i>can't</i> read. What the deuce does it mean?'</p> + +<p>'Just what it says—Frank is free.'</p> + +<p>The young man glanced over the paper. His face expressed surprise, but +he said nothing.</p> + +<p>'Then you've heard how things have been going on?' asked Cragin.</p> + +<p>'No, not a word. I've <i>seen</i> that Hallet was abusing the boy shamefully. +I came on, wanting an excuse to break the copartnership.'</p> + +<p>'Do you know you've done me the greatest service in the world? I told +Hallet, the other day, that we couldn't pull together much longer. He +refused to let me off till our term is up; but I've got him now;' and he +laughed in boyish glee.</p> + +<p>'Of course, the paper releases you as well as Frank. It's a general +dissolution.'</p> + +<p>'Of course it is. How did you manage to get it? Hallet must have been +crazy. He wasn't <i>John Hallet</i>, that's certain!'</p> + +<p>'The <i>genuine</i> John, but a <i>little</i> excited.'</p> + +<p>'He must have been. But I'm rid of him, thank the Lord! Come, what do +you say to Frank's going in with me? I'll pack him off to Europe at +once—he can secure most of the old business.'</p> + +<p>'<i>He</i> must decide about that. He can come with me, if he likes. He'll +not go a begging, that's certain. He'll have thirty thousand to start +with.'</p> + +<p>'Thirty thousand!' exclaimed Frank. 'No, father, you can't do that; you +need every dollar you've got.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I do, and more too. But the money is yours, not mine. You shall +have it to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'Mine! Where did it come from?'</p> + +<p>'From a relative of yours. But he's modest; he don't want to be known.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span> +'But I <i>ought</i> to know, I thought I had no relatives.'</p> + +<p>'Well, you haven't—only this one, and he's rich as mud. He gave you the +five thousand; but this is a last instalment—you won't get another red +cent.'</p> + +<p>'I don't feel exactly like taking money in that way.'</p> + +<p>'Pshaw, my boy! I tell you it's yours—rightfully and honestly. You +ought to have more; but he's close-fisted, and you must be content with +this.'</p> + +<p>'Well, Frank,' said Cragin, 'what do you say to hitching horses with me? +I'll give you two fifths, and put a hundred against your thirty.</p> + +<p>'What shall I do?' said Frank to me.</p> + +<p>'You'd better accept. It's more than I can allow you.'</p> + +<p>'Then it's a trade?' asked Cragin.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Frank.</p> + +<p>'Well, old gentleman, what do <i>you</i> say—will you move the old stool?' +said Cragin, addressing David.</p> + +<p>'Yes; I like Frank too well to stay with even his father.'</p> + +<p>In the gleeful mood which had taken possession of the old man, the words +slipped from his tongue before he was aware of it. He would have +recalled them on the instant, but it was too late. Cragin caught them, +and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>'His father! Well, that explains some riddles. D—d if I won't call the +new firm Hallet, Cragin & Co. I've got him all around—ha! ha!'</p> + +<p>Frank seemed thunderstruck. Soon he plied me with questions.</p> + +<p>'I can say nothing; I gave my word I would not. David has betrayed it; +let him explain, if he pleases.'</p> + +<p>The old bookkeeper then told the young man his history, revealing +everything but the degradation of his poor mother. Frank walked the +room, struggling with contending emotions. When David concluded, he put +his hand in mine, and spoke a few low words. His voice sounded like his +mother's. It was again <i>her</i> blessing that I heard.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two weeks afterward, the old sign came down from the old warehouse—came +down, after hanging there three quarters of a century, and in its place +went up a black board, on which, emblazoned in glaring gilt letters, +were the two words,</p> + + +<h4>'<span class="smcap">John Hallet</span>.'</h4> + +<p>On the same day, the busy crowd passing up old Long Wharf might have +seen, over a doorway not far distant, a plainer sign. It read:</p> + +<h4>'<span class="smcap">Cragin, Mandell</span> & Co.'<br /><br /></h4> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3> + +<p>Kate heard frequently from Selma within the first two months after her +departure, but then her letters suddenly ceased. Her last one expressed +the intention of returning to the North during the following week. We +looked for her, but she did not come. Week after week went by, and still +she did not come. Kate wrote, inquiring when we might expect her, but +received no reply. She wrote again and again, and still no answer came. +'Something has happened to her. <i>Do</i> write Mrs. Preston,' said Kate. I +wrote her. She either did not deign to reply, or she did not receive the +letter.</p> + +<p>None of Selma's friends had heard from her for more than three months, +and we were in a state of painful anxiety and uncertainty, when, one +morning, among my letters, I found one addressed to my wife, in Selma's +handwriting. Her previous letters had been mailed at Trenton, but this +was post-marked 'Newbern.' I sent it at once to my house. About an hour +afterward I was surprised by Kate's appearance in the office. Her face +was pale, her manner hurried and excited. She held a small carpet bag in +her hand.</p> + +<p>'You must start at once by the first train. You've not a moment to +spare!'</p> + +<p>'Start where?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</a></span></p> + +<p>She handed me the letter. 'Read that.'</p> + +<p>It was hurriedly and nervously written. I read:<br /><br /></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">'My Dearest Friend</span>: I know <i>you</i> have not forsaken me, but +I have written you, oh! so many times. To-day, Ally has told me +that perhaps our letters are intercepted at the Trenton post +office. It must be so. He takes this to Newbern. Is he not kind? He +has been my faithful friend through all. Though ordered away from +the plantation, he refused to go, and stood by me through the +worst. He whom my own sister so cruelly wronged, has done +everything for me! Whatever may become of me, I shall ever bless +him.</p> + +<p>'I have not heard from or seen any of my friends. Even my brother +has not answered my letters; but he must be here, on the 17th, at +the sale. That is now my only hope. I shall then be freed from this +misery—worse than death. God bless you!</p> + +<p class='author'>Your wretched <span class="smcap">Selma</span>.'<br /><br /></p></div> + +<p>'I will go,' was all that I said. Kate sat down, and wept 'Oh! some +terrible thing has befallen her! What can it be?'</p> + +<p>I was giving some hurried directions to my partners, when a telegram was +handed in. It was from Boston, and addressed to me personally. I opened +it, and read:<br /><br /></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I have just heard that Selma is a slave. To be sold on the +seventeenth. I can't go. You must. Buy her on my account. Pay any +price. I have written Frank. Let nothing prevent your starting at +once. If your partners should be short while you're away, let them +draw on me.</p> + +<p class='author'>'<span class="smcap">Augustus Cragin</span>.'<br /><br /></p></div> + +<p>It was then the morning of the twelfth. Making all the connections, and +there being no delay of the trains, I should reach the plantation early +on the seventeenth.</p> + +<p>At twelve o'clock I was on the way. Steam was too slow for my +impatience. I would have harnessed the lightning.</p> + +<p>At last—it was sundown of the sixteenth—the stage drove into Newbern.</p> + +<p>With my carpet bag in my hand, I rushed into the hotel. Four or five +loungers were in the office, and the lazy bartender was mixing drinks +behind the counter.</p> + +<p>'Sir, I want a horse, or a horse and buggy, at once.'</p> + +<p>'A horse? Ye're in a hurry, hain't ye?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Wall, I reckon ye'll hev ter git over it. Thar hain't a durned critter +in th' whole place.'</p> + +<p>'I'm in no mood for jesting, sir. I want a horse <i>at once</i>. I will +deposit twice his value.'</p> + +<p>'Ye couldn't git nary critter, stranger, ef ye wus made uv gold. They're +all off—off ter Squire Preston's sale.'</p> + +<p>'The sale! Has it begun?'</p> + +<p>'I reckon! Ben a gwine fur two days.'</p> + +<p>My heart sank within me. I was too late!</p> + +<p>'Are all the negroes sold?'</p> + +<p>'No; them comes on ter morrer. He's got a likely gang.'</p> + +<p>I breathed more freely. At this moment a well-dressed gentleman, +followed by a good-looking yellow man, entered the room. He wore spurs, +and was covered with dust. Approaching the counter, he said:</p> + +<p>'Here, you lazy devil—a drink for me and my boy. I'm drier than a +parson—Old Bourbon.'</p> + +<p>As the bartender poured out the liquor, the new comer's eye fell upon +me. His face seemed familiar, but I could not recall it. Scanning me for +a moment, he held out his hand in a free, cordial manner, saying:</p> + +<p>'Ah! Mr. Kirke, is this you? You don't remember me? my name is Gaston.'</p> + +<p>'Mr. Gaston, I'm glad to see you,' I replied, returning his salutation.</p> + +<p>'Have a drink, sir?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[Pg 531]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Thank you.' I emptied the glass. I was jaded, and had eaten nothing +since morning. 'I'm in pursuit of a horse under difficulties, Mr. +Gaston. Perhaps you can tell me where to get one. I must be at Preston's +to-night.'</p> + +<p>'They're scarcer than hen's teeth round here, just now, I reckon. But +hold on; I go there in the morning. I'll borrow a buggy, and you can +ride up with me.'</p> + +<p>'No, I must be there to-night. How far is it?'</p> + +<p>'Twenty miles.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I'll walk. Landlord, give me supper at once.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Walk</i> there! My dear sir, we don't abuse strangers in these diggin's. +The road is sandier than an Arab desert. You'd never get there afoot. +Tom,' he added, calling to his man, 'give Buster some oats; rub him +down, and have him here in half an hour. Travel, now, like greased +lightning.' Then turning to me, he continued: 'You can have <i>my</i> horse. +He's a spirited fellow, and you'll need to keep an eye on him; but he'll +get you there in two hours.'</p> + +<p>'But how will <i>you</i> get on?'</p> + +<p>'I'll take my boy's, and leave the darky here.'</p> + +<p>'Mr. Gaston, I cannot tell you the service you are doing me.'</p> + +<p>'Don't speak of it, my dear sir. A stranger can have anything of mine +but my wife;' and he laughed pleasantly.</p> + +<p>He went with me into the supper room, and there told me that the sale of +Preston's plantation, furniture, live stock, farm tools, &c., had +occupied the two previous days; and that the negroes were to be put on +the block at nine o'clock the next morning. 'I've got my eye on one or +two of them, that I mean to buy. The niggers will sell well, I reckon.'</p> + +<p>After supper, we strolled again into the bar room. Approaching the +counter, my eye fell on the hotel register, which lay open upon it. I +glanced involuntarily over the book. Among the arrivals of the previous +day, I noticed two recorded in a hand that I at once recognized. The +names were, <span class="smcap">'John Hallet</span>, <i>New Orleans</i>; <span class="smcap">Jacob Larkin</span>, +<i>ditto</i>.'</p> + +<p>'Are these gentlemen here?' I asked the bartender.</p> + +<p>'No; they left same day the' come.'</p> + +<p>'Where did they go?'</p> + +<p>'Doan't know.'</p> + +<p>In five minutes, with my carpet bag strapped to the pommel of the +saddle, I was bounding up the road to Trenton.</p> + +<p>It was nearly ten o'clock when I sprang from the horse and rang the bell +at the mansion. A light was burning in the library, but the rest of the +house was dark. A negro opened the door.</p> + +<p>'Where is master Joe, or Miss Selly?'</p> + +<p>'In de library, massa. I'll tell dem you'm here.'</p> + +<p>'No; I'll go myself. Look after my horse.'</p> + +<p>I strode through the parlors and the passage way to the old room. Selma +was seated on a lounge by the side of Joe, her head on his shoulder. As +I opened the door, I spoke the two words: 'My child!'</p> + +<p>She looked up, sprang to her feet, and rushed into my arms.</p> + +<p>'And you are safe!' I cried, putting back her soft brown hair, and +kissing her pale, beautiful forehead.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I am safe. My brother is here—I am <i>safe</i>.'</p> + +<p>'Joe—God bless you!—you're a noble fellow!'</p> + +<p>He was only twenty-three, but his face was already seamed and haggard, +and his hair thickly streaked with white! We sat down, and from Selma's +lips I learned the events of the preceding months.</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3> + +<p>Selma arrived at home about a week after her father's funeral. The +affairs of the plantation were going on much as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[Pg 532]</a></span> usual, but Mrs. Preston +was there in apparently the greatest grief. She seemed inconsolable; +talked much of her loss, and expressed great fears for the future. Her +husband had left no will, and nothing would remain for her but the dower +in the real estate, and that would sell for but little.</p> + +<p>The more Preston's affairs were investigated, the worse they appeared. +He was in debt everywhere. An administrator was appointed, and he +decided that a sale of everything—the two plantations and the +negroes—would be necessary.</p> + +<p>Selma felt little interest in the pecuniary result, but sympathy for her +stepmother induced her to remain at home, week after week, when her +presence there was no longer of service. At last she made preparations +to return; but, as she was on the point of departure, Mrs. +Preston—whose face then wore an expression of triumphant malignity +which chilled Selma's very life-blood—told her that she could not go; +that she was a part of her father's estate, and must remain, and be sold +with the other negroes!</p> + +<p>Dawsey, shortly prior to this, had become a frequent visitor at the +plantation; and, the week before, Phylly had been dreadfully whipped +under his supervision. Selma interceded for her, but could not avert the +punishment. She did not at the time know why it was done, but at last +the reason was revealed to her.</p> + +<p>Among the papers of the first Mrs. Preston, the second wife had found a +bill of sale, by which, in consideration of one gold watch, two diamond +rings, an emerald pin, two gold bracelets, some family plate, and other +jewelry, of the total value of five hundred dollars, General ——, of +Newbern, had conveyed a negro girl called 'Lucy', to Mrs. Lucy Preston, +wife of Robert Preston, Esq. Said girl was described as seven years old, +light complexioned, with long, curly hair, of a golden brown; and the +child of Phyllis, otherwise called Phyllis Preston, then the property of +Jacob Larkin.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Preston inquired of Phyllis what had become of the child. The nurse +denied all knowledge of it; but Selma's age, her peculiar hair, and her +strong resemblance to Rosey, excited the Yankee woman's suspicions, and +she questioned the mother more closely. Phyllis still denied all +knowledge of her child, and, for that denial, was whipped—whipped till +her flesh was cut into shreds, and she fainted from loss of blood. After +the whipping, she was left in an old cabin, to live or die—her mistress +did not care which; and there Ally found her at night, on his return +from his work in the swamp. Wrapping her mangled body in an oiled sheet, +he conveyed her to his cabin. Dinah carefully nursed her, and ere long +she was able to sit up. Then Mrs. Preston told her that, as soon as she +was sufficiently recovered to live through it, she would be again and +again beaten, till she disclosed the fate of the child.</p> + +<p>She still denied all knowledge of it; but, fearing the rage of her +mistress, she sent for her husband, then keeping a small groggery at +Trenton, four miles away. He came and had a conference with Ally and +Dinah about the best way of saving his wife from further abuse. Phyllis +was unable to walk or to ride, therefore flight was out of the question. +Ally proposed that Mulock should oversee his gang for a time while he +remained about home and kept watch over her. None of the negroes could +be induced to whip her in his presence; and if Dawsey or any other white +man attempted it, he was free—he would meet them with their own +weapons. Mulock agreed to this, and the next day went to the swamp.</p> + +<p>Learning of his presence on the plantation, the mistress sent for him, +and, by means of a paltry bribe, induced him to reveal all! Selma +thought he loved Phyllis as much as his brutal nature was capable of +loving, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span> he betrayed her to save her mother from further ill +usage.</p> + +<p>The next morning, four strong men entered Ally's cabin before he had +left his bed, bound him hand and foot, and dragged Phyllis away, to be +again whipped for having refused to betray Selma. Unable to stand, she +was tied to a stake, and unmercifully beaten. Weak from the effects of +the previous whipping, and crushed in spirit by anxiety for her child, +nature could no longer sustain her. A fever set in, and, at the end of a +week, she died.</p> + +<p>Selma was told of their relation to each other. The nurse, so devotedly +attached to her, and whom she had so long loved, was her own mother! She +learned this only in time to see her die, and to hear her last blessing.</p> + +<p>Then Selma experienced all the bitterness of slavery. She was set at +work in the kitchen with the other slaves. It seemed that Mrs. Preston +took especial delight in assigning to the naturally high-spirited and +sensitive girl the most menial employments. Patiently trusting in God +that He would send deliverance, she endeavored to perform, +uncomplainingly, her allotted tasks. Wholly unaccustomed to such work, +weary in body and sick at heart, she dragged herself about from day to +day, till at last Mrs. Preston, disgusted with her 'laziness,' as she +termed it, directed her to be taken to the quarters and beaten with +fifty lashes!</p> + +<p>Ally had been ordered away by the mistress, and that morning had gone to +Trenton to consult the administrator, and get his permission to stay on +the plantation. That gentleman—a kind-hearted, upright man—not only +told him he could remain, but gave him a written order to take and keep +Selma in his custody.</p> + +<p>He returned at night, to find she had been whipped. His blood boiling +with rage, he entered the mansion, and demanded to see her. Mrs. Preston +declined. He then gave her the order of the administrator. She tore it +into fragments, and bade him leave the house. He refused to go without +Selma, and quietly seated himself on the sofa. Mrs. Preston then called +in ten or twelve of the field hands, and told them to eject him. They +either would not or dared not do it; and, without more delay, he +proceeded to search for Selma. At last he found her apartment. He burst +open the door, and saw her lying on a low, miserable bed, writhing in +agony from her wounds. Throwing a blanket over her, he lifted her in his +arms, and carried her to his cabin. Dinah carefully attended her, and +that night she thanked God, and—slept.</p> + +<p>The next morning, before the sun was fully up, Dawsey and three other +white men, heavily armed, came to the cabin, and demanded admittance. +Ally refused, and barricaded the door. They finally stealthily effected +an entrance through a window in the kitchen, and, breaking down the +communication with the 'living room,' in which apartment the mulatto man +and his mother were, they rushed in upon them. Ally, the previous day, +had procured a couple of revolvers at Trenton, and Dinah and he, +planting themselves before the door of old Deborah's room, in which +Selma was sleeping, pointed the weapons at the intruders. The assailants +paused, when Dawsey shouted out: 'Are you afraid of two d—d +niggers—and one a woman!' Aiming his pistol at Ally, he fired. The ball +struck the negro's left arm. Discharging two or three barrels at them, +the old woman and her son then rushed upon the white men, and they FLED! +all but one—he remained; for Dinah caught him in a loving embrace, and +pummelled him until he might have been mistaken for calves-foot jelly.</p> + +<p>Ally then sent a messenger to the administrator, who rode over in the +afternoon, and took Selma to his own house. There she remained till her +brother reached the plantation—three days before my arrival.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span></p> + +<p>As soon as she was safely at Trenton, Selma wrote to her friends, +mailing the letters at that post office. She received no answers. Again +and again she wrote; the administrator also wrote, but still no replies +came. At last Ally suggested mailing the letters at Newbern, and rode +down with one to Joe, one to Alice, and one to Kate.</p> + +<p>Her brother came on at once. In the first ebullition of his anger he +ejected his stepmother from the mansion. She went to Dawsey's, and, the +next day, appeared at the sale with that gentleman; and then announced +that for two months she had been the woman-whipper's wife.</p> + +<p>Dawsey had bought the plantation, and most of the furniture, the day +before, and had said he intended to buy all of the 'prime' negroes.</p> + +<p>As Selma concluded, Joe quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>'He'll be disappointed in that. I allowed him the plantation and +furniture, because I've no use for them; but I made him pay more than +they are worth. The avails will help me through with father's debts; but +not a single hand shall go into his clutches, I shall buy them myself.'</p> + +<p>'What will you do with them?'</p> + +<p>'I have bought a plantation near Mobile. I shall put them upon it. Joe +will manage them, and I'll live there with Selly.'</p> + +<p>'You're a splendid fellow, Joe. But it seems a pity that woman should +profane your father's house.'</p> + +<p>'Oh! there's no danger of that. I've engaged 'furnished apartments' for +her elsewhere.'</p> + +<p>'What do you mean?'</p> + +<p>'The sheriff is asleep up stairs. He has a warrant against her for the +murder of Phyllis. When she comes here in the morning, it will be +served!'</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h3> + +<p>The next morning I rose early, and strolled out to the negro quarters. +At the distance of about a hundred yards from the mansion, the sun was +touching the tops of about thirty canvas camps, and, near them, large +numbers of horses, 'all saddled and bridled,' were picketed among the +trees. Some dozens of 'natives' were littered around, asleep on the +ground; and here and there a barelegged, barefooted woman was lying +beside a man on a 'spring' mattress, of the kind that is supposed to +have been patented in Paradise.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful morning in May, and one would have thought, from the +appearance of the motley collection, that the whole people had 'come up +to worship the Lord in their tents,' after the manner of the Israelites. +The rich planter, the small farmer, the 'white trash'—all classes, had +gathered to the negro sale, like crows to a feast of carrion.</p> + +<p>A few half-awake, half-sober, russet-clad, bewhiskered 'gentry' were +lighting fires under huge iron pots; but the larger portion of the +'congregation' was still wrapped in slumber.</p> + +<p>Passing them, I knocked at the door of Ally's cabin. The family was +already astir, and the various members gave me a greeting that cannot be +<i>bought</i> now anywhere with a handful of 'greenbacks.' Boss Joe, Aggy, +and old Deborah had arrived, and were quartered with Ally.</p> + +<p>'An' 'ou wusn't a gwine ter leff massa Preston's own chile be sole +widout bein' yere; wus 'ou, massa Kirke?' cried Dinah, her face beaming +all over with pleasurable emotion.</p> + +<p>'No, Dinah; and I've come here so early to tell you how much I think of +<i>you</i>. A woman that can handle four white men as you did is fit to head +an army.'</p> + +<p>'Lor' bress 'ou, massa! dat wusn't nuffin'. I could handle a whole +meetin'-house full ob sech as dem.'</p> + +<p>'Joe, you know your master's plans, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>'Yas, massa Kirke; he mean ter buy all de folks.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</a></span></p> + +<p>'But can he raise money enough for the whole?'</p> + +<p>'I reckon so. Massa Joe got a heap.'</p> + +<p>'But don't you want to borrow some to help out your pile?'</p> + +<p>'I'se 'bliged ter you, sar; but I reckon I doan't. I'se got nigh on ter +free thousan', an' nary one'll pay more'n dat fur a ole man an' two ole +wimmin.'</p> + +<p>'I hope not.'</p> + +<p>I remained there for a half hour, and then strolled back to the mansion. +On the lawn, at the side of the house, was the auction block—the +carpenter's bench which had officiated at Ally's wedding. It was +approached by a flight of steps, and at one end was the salesman's +stand—a high stool, in front of which was a small portable desk +supported on stakes driven into the ground. Near the block was a booth +fitted up for the special accommodation of thirsty buyers. The +proprietor was just opening his own and his establishment's windows, and +I looked in upon him. His red, bloated visage seemed familiar to me. +Perceiving me, he said:</p> + +<p>'How is ye, stranger? Hev a eye-opener?'</p> + +<p>'I reckon not, old fellow; but I ought to know you. Your name is Tom.'</p> + +<p>'Thomas, stranger; but Tom, fur short.'</p> + +<p>'Well, Thomas, I thought you had taken your last drink. I saw your store +was closed, as I came along.'</p> + +<p>'Yas; th' durned 'ristocrats driv me out uv thet nigh a yar ago.'</p> + +<p>'And where are you now?'</p> + +<p>'Up ter Trenton. I'm doin' right smart thar. Me an' Mulock—thet used +ter b'long yere—is in partenship. But war moight ye hev seed me, +stranger?'</p> + +<p>'At your store, over ten years since. I bought a woman there. You were +having a turkey match at the time.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, yas! I 'call ye now. An' th' pore gal's dead! Thet d—d Yankee +'ooman shud pull hemp fur thet.'</p> + +<p>'Yes; but the devil seldom gets his due in this world.'</p> + +<p>'Thet ar's a fact, stranger. Come, hev a drink; I woan't ax ye a red.'</p> + +<p>'No, excuse me, Tom; it's before breakfast;' and, walking off, I entered +the mansion.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Shortly after breakfast the people from the neighboring plantations +began to gather to the sale, and, by the hour appointed for it to +commence, about five hundred men and women had collected on the ground. +Some were on horseback, some in carriages, but the majority were seated +on the grass, or on benches improvised for the occasion.</p> + +<p>A few minutes before the 'exercises' commenced, the negroes were marched +upon the lawn. No seats had been provided for them, and they huddled +together inside a small area staked off for their reception. They were +of all colors and ages. Husbands and wives, parents and children, +grandparents and grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and cousins, gathered in +little family groups, and breathlessly awaited the stroke of the hammer +which was to decide their destiny. They were all clad in their Sunday +clothes, and looked clean and tidy; but on every face except Joe's was +depicted an ill-defined feeling of dread and consternation. Husbands +held their wives in their arms, and mothers hugged their children to +their bosoms, as if they might soon part forever; but when old Joe +passed among them, saying a low word to this one and the other, their +cloudy visages brightened, and a heavy load seemed to roll off their +hearts. Joe was as radiant as a summer morning, and walked about with a +quiet dignity and unconcern that might have led one to think him the +owner of the entire 'invoice of chattels.'</p> + +<p>As the auctioneer—a spruce importation from Newbern—mounted the bench, +a splendid carriage, drawn by two magnificent grays, and driven by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</a></span> a +darky in livery, made its way through the crowd, and drew up opposite +the stand. In it were Dawsey and his wife!</p> + +<p>The salesman's hammer came down. 'Gentlemen and ladies,' he said, 'the +sale has commenced. I am about to offer you one hundred and sixty-one +likely negro men and women, belonging to the estate of Robert Preston, +Esq., deceased. Each one will be particularly described when put up, and +all will be warranted as represented. They will be sold in families; +that is, husbands and wives, and parents and young children, will not be +separated. The terms are, one quarter cash, the balance in one year, +secured by an approved indorsed note. Persons having claims against the +estate will be allowed to pay by authenticated accounts and duebills. +The first lot I shall offer you will be the mulatto man Joe and his wife +Agnes. Joe is known through all this region as a negro of uncommon worth +and intelligence. He is'—</p> + +<p>Here he was interrupted by Dawsey, who exclaimed, in a hurried manner:</p> + +<p>'I came here expecting this sale would be conducted according to +custom—that each hand would be put up separately. I protest against +this innovation, Mr. Auctioneer.'</p> + +<p>The auctioneer made no reply; but the administrator, a small, +self-possessed man, mounted the bench, and said:</p> + +<p>'Sir, <i>I</i> regulate this sale. If you are not satisfied with its +conditions, you are not obliged to bid.'</p> + +<p>Dawsey made a passionate reply. In the midst of it, Joe sprang upon the +stand, and, in a clear, determined voice, called out:</p> + +<p>'Mr. Sheriff, do your duty.'</p> + +<p>A large, powerful man, in blue coat and brass buttons, stepped to the +side of the carriage, and coolly opening the door, said:</p> + +<p>'Catharine Dawsey, you are charged with aiding and abetting in the +murder of Phyllis Preston. I arrest you. Please come with me.'</p> + +<p>'By ——, sir!' cried Dawsey; 'this lady is my wife!'</p> + +<p>'It makes no difference whose wife she is, sir. She is my prisoner.'</p> + +<p>'She must not be touched by you, or any other man!' yelled Dawsey, +drawing his pistol. Before he could fire, he rolled on the ground, +insensible. The sheriff had struck him a quick blow on the head with a +heavy cane.</p> + +<p>As her husband fell, Mrs. Dawsey sprang upon the driver's seat, and, +seizing the reins from the astonished negro, applied the lash to the +horses. They reared and started. The panic-stricken crowd parted, like +waves in a storm, and the spirited animals bounded swiftly down the +avenue. They had nearly reached the cluster of liveoaks which borders +the small lake, when a man sprang at their heads. He missed them, fell, +and the carriage passed over him; but the horses shied from the road +into the trees, and in an instant the splendid vehicle was a mass of +fragments, and Mrs. Dawsey and the negro were sprawling on the ground.</p> + +<p>The lady was taken up senseless, and badly hurt, but breathing. The +driver was dead!</p> + +<p>The crowd hurried across the green to the scene of disaster. Joe and I +reached the man in the road at the same instant. It was Ally! We took +him up, bore him to the edge of the pond, and bathed his forehead with +water. In a few minutes he opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>'Are you much hurt, Ally?' asked Joe, with almost breathless eagerness.</p> + +<p>'I reckon not, massa Joe,' said Ally; 'my head, yere, am sore, an' dis +ankle p'raps am broke. Leff me see;' and he rose to his feet, and tried +his leg. 'No, massa Joe; it'm sound's a pine knot. I hain't done fur +<i>dis</i> time.'</p> + +<p>'Thank God!' exclaimed Joe, with an indescribable expression of relief.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dawsey was borne to the mansion, the negro carried off to the +quarters, and, in a few moments, the crowd once more gathered around the +auc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span>tioneer's stand. Dawsey, by this time recovered from the sheriff's +blow, was cursing and swearing terribly over the disaster of his wife +and—his property.</p> + +<p>'Twenty-five hundred dollars gone at a blow! D—n the woman; didn't she +know better than that?'</p> + +<p>As he followed his wife into the house, the sheriff said to the +administrator, who was a justice of the peace:</p> + +<p>'Make me out a warrant for that man—obstructing the execution of the +law.'</p> + +<p>The warrant was soon made out, and in fifteen minutes, Dawsey, raving +like a wild animal, was driven off to jail at Trenton. Mrs. Dawsey, too +much injured to be removed, was left under guard at the mansion, and the +sale proceeded.</p> + +<p>Boss Joe and Aggy ascended the block, and 'Master Joe' took a stand +beside them.</p> + +<p>'How much is said for these prime negroes?' cried the auctioneer. +Everybody knows what they are, and there's no use preaching a sermon +over them. Boss Joe might do that, but <i>I</i> can't. He can preach equal to +any white man you ever hard. Come, gentlemen, start a bid. How much do +you say?'</p> + +<p>'A thousand,' said a voice in the crowd.</p> + +<p>'Eleven hundred,' cried another.</p> + +<p>'It's a d—d shame to bid on them, gentlemen. Boss Joe has been saving +money to buy himself; and I think no white man should bid against him,' +cried a man at my elbow.</p> + +<p>It was Gaston, who had just arrived on the ground.</p> + +<p>'Thet's a fact.' 'Them's my sentiments.' 'D—n th' man thet'll bid agin +a nigger.' 'Thet's so, Gaston,' echoed from all directions.</p> + +<p>'But I yere th' darky's got a pile—some two thousan'; <i>thet</i> gwoes +'long with him, uv course,' yelled one of the crowd.</p> + +<p>'Of course it don't!' said young Joe, from the stand. 'He's saved about +three thousand out of a commission his master allowed him; but he <i>gave</i> +that <i>to me</i>, long before my father died. It is <i>mine</i>—not <i>his</i>. I bid +twelve hundred for him and his wife; and I will say to the audience, +that I shall advance on whatever sum may be offered for them. So fire +away, gentlemen; I ask no favors.'</p> + +<p>'Is there any more bid for this excellent couple?' cried the auctioneer. +'It is my duty to cry them, and to tell you they're worth twice that +money.'</p> + +<p>There was no more bid, and Boss Joe and Aggy were struck down at twelve +hundred dollars—about two thirds their market value.</p> + +<p>'Now, gentlemen, we will offer you the old negress, Deborah, the mother +of Joe. Bring her forward!' cried the man of the hammer.</p> + +<p>Four strong negroes lifted the chair of the aged African, and bore her +to the block. When the strange vehicle reached the steps, young Preston +steadied it into its appropriate position, and then took a stand beside +it.</p> + +<p>'This aged lady, gentlemen, is warranted over eighty; she may be a +hundred. She can't walk, but she can pray and sing to kill. How much is +bid for all this piety done up in black crape?' cried the auctioneer, +smiling complacently, as if conscious of saying a witty thing.</p> + +<p>Joe turned on him quickly. 'Sir, you are employed to <i>sell</i> these +people, not to sport with their feelings. Let me hear no more of this.'</p> + +<p>'No offence, Mr. Preston. Gentlemen, how much is bid for old Deborah?'</p> + +<p>'Five dollars,' said young Preston.</p> + +<p>The old negress, who sat nearly double, straightened up her bent form, +and, looking at Joe with a sad, pleading expression, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>'Oh, massa Joe! ole nussy'm wuth more'n dat. 'Ou woan't leff har be sole +fur no sech money as dat, will 'ou, massa Joe?'</p> + +<p>'No aunty; not if you want to bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span> more. I'd give your weight in gold +for you;' and, turning to the auctioneer, he said: 'A hundred dollars is +my bid, sir.'</p> + +<p>'Bress 'ou, massa Joe! bress 'ou! 'Ou'm my own dear, bressed chile!' +exclaimed the old negress, clutching at his hand, and, with a sudden +effort, rising to her feet. She stood thus for a moment, then she +staggered back, fell into her chair, uttered a low moan, and—was FREE!</p> + +<p>A wild excitement followed, during which the body was borne off. It was +a full half hour before quiet was restored and the sale resumed. Then +about twenty negroes, of both sexes, were put up singly. All of them +were bought by Joe, except a young woman, whose husband belonged to +Gaston. The bidding on her was spirited, and she was run up to ten +hundred and fifty dollars. As Gaston bid that sum, he jumped upon a +bench, and called out:</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen, I can stand this as long as you can. I mean to have this +woman, anyhow.'</p> + +<p>No one offered more, and 'the lot' was struck off to Gaston. Joe did not +bid on her at all.</p> + +<p>When the next negro ascended the stand, Joe beckoned to me, and said:</p> + +<p>'Selly is next on the catalogue. Will you bring her here?'</p> + +<p>As I entered the mansion, she met me. Her face was pale, and there was a +nervous twitching about her mouth, but she quietly said:</p> + +<p>'You have come for me?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, my child. Have courage; it will soon be over.'</p> + +<p>She laid her head upon my shoulder for a moment; then, turning her +large, clear, but tearless eyes up to mine, she said:</p> + +<p>'I trust in <span class="smcap">God</span>!'</p> + +<p>I took her arm in mine, and walked out to the stand. The auctioneer was +waiting for her, and we ascended the block together. A slight tremor +passed over her frame as she met the sea of upturned faces, all eagerly +gazing at her; and, putting my arm about her, I whispered:</p> + +<p>'Do not fear. Lean on me.'</p> + +<p>'I do not fear,' was the low reply.</p> + +<p>'Now, gentlemen,' cried the auctioneer, in an unfeeling, business-like +way, 'I offer you the girl, Lucy Selma. She is seventeen years old; in +good health; well brought up—a superior lot every way. She has recently +been employed at cooking, but, as you see, is better adapted to lighter +work. How much shall I have for her? Come, bid fast gentlemen; we are +taking up too much time.'</p> + +<p>Before any response could be made to this appeal, Joe stepped to the +side of Selma, and, in a slow, deliberate voice, said:</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen, allow me a few words. This young lady is my sister. I have +always supposed—she has always supposed that she was the legitimate +child of my father. She was not. My mother bought her when she was very +young; gave her jewels—all she had—for her, and adopted her as her own +child. The law does not allow a married woman to hold separate property, +and Selma is therefore inventoried in my father's estate, and must be +sold. Rightfully she belongs to me! She has been delicately and tenderly +reared, and is totally unfitted for any of the usual work of slave +women. Her value for such purposes is very little. I shall bid a +thousand dollars for her, which is more than she is worth for any honest +use. If any man bids more, it is HIS LIFE OR MINE <i>before he leaves the +ground!</i>'</p> + +<p>A breathless silence fell on the assemblage. It lasted for a few +moments, when Gaston called out:</p> + +<p>'Come, Joe, this isn't fair. You've no right to interfere with the sale. +I came here prepared to go twenty-five hundred for her myself.'</p> + +<p>In a firm but moderate tone, the young man replied:</p> + +<p>'I intend no disrespect to you, Mr. Gaston, or to any gentleman +present;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</a></span> but I mean what I say. I shall stand by my words!'</p> + +<p>'Come, youngster, none uv yer brow-beatin' yere. It woan't gwo down,' +cried a rough voice from among the audience. 'I've come all th' way from +Orleans ter buy thet gal; an' buy har I shill!'</p> + +<p>Quite a commotion followed this speech. It lasted some minutes, and the +speaker was the object of considerable attention.</p> + +<p>'He's some on th' trigger, ole feller,' cried one. 'He kin hit a +turkey's eye at two hundred paces, he kin,' said another. 'He'll burn +yer in'ards, shore,' shouted a third. 'Ye'll speak fur warm lodgin's, ef +ye bid on thet gal, ye wull,' cried a fourth.</p> + +<p>'Come, my friends, ye karn't skeer me,' coolly said the first speaker, +mounting one of the rough benches. 'I've h'ard sech talk afore. It +doan't turn <i>me</i> a hair. I come yere ter buy thet gal, an' buy har I +shill, 'cept some on ye kin gwo higher'n my pile; an' my pile ar +<i>eighty-two hundred dollars</i>!'</p> + +<p>He was a tall, stoutly-built man, with bushy gray whiskers and a clear, +resolute eye. It was Larkin!</p> + +<p>Turning to Joe, I exclaimed:</p> + +<p>'I understand this. Get the auctioneer to postpone the sale for half an +hour for dinner. Take Selly into the house.'</p> + +<p>'No. It might as well be over first as last. Let him bid—he's a dead +man!' replied Joe coolly, but firmly.</p> + +<p>'You're mad, boy. Would you take his life needlessly?'</p> + +<p>The auctioneer, who overheard these remarks, then said to me:</p> + +<p>'I will adjourn the sale, sir;' and, turning to the audience, he cried, +drawing out his watch: 'Gentlemen, it is twelve o'clock. The sale is +adjourned for an hour, to give you a chance for dinner.'</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SHYLOCK_vs_ANTONIO" id="SHYLOCK_vs_ANTONIO"></a>SHYLOCK vs. ANTONIO.</h2> + +<h3>OPINION OF THE VICAR.</h3> + + +<p>The Vicar desires briefly, modestly, and by way of suggestion, rather as +Amicus Curiæ than as an advocate, to lay before his learned brethren of +the law a legal point or two, for their consideration.</p> + +<p>The case to which I refer is well known to all the members of the bar as +that of Shylock—<i>versus</i> Antonio, reported, in full, in 2 Shakspeare +299. The decision which I am desirous of having reviewed, is that of the +Chief Justice, or Ducal Magistrate, who heard that curious case, and who +yielded to the extraordinary arguments of the young woman, Portia. The +judgment rendered, and the argument or decision of the Lady Advocate, on +that occasion, have been regarded as models of judicial acumen, have +received the approbation of many worthy and enlightened students, and, +when theatrically represented, have been greeted with the plaudits of +nearly every theatre. It may be arrogant to impugn a judicial decision +of such antiquity and acknowledged authority; but, as a member in full +standing of the worshipful P. B., I have the right to be slightly +arrogant; for I am well aware that this is a tribunal the circumference +of whose jurisdiction is infinite, or rather is a circle whose centre is +a little village on the Hudson river, where I reside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</a></span></p> + +<p>No false modesty shall restrain me, therefore, from discussing this case +upon its merits. Before entering upon it, however, I desire to call your +attention to a few preliminary points.</p> + +<p>In the first place, I ask you—who are all familiar with the record—if +an undue sympathy for the defendant, Antonio, was not felt on the trial? +The favor and good wishes of the court, the spectators, and of the +reporter, were evidently enlisted for him as against his opponent. This +Antonio, perhaps, was a very worthy fellow in his way; and in a criminal +action—as on an indictment for murdering a family or two, or +slaughtering a policeman—might have been, able to prove previous good +character. But such a plea, in a civil action for <i>debt</i>, is entitled to +no weight, while the fact that he was a good fellow in a series of +scrapes, not the least of which was matrimony, does not entitle him to +our sympathy. The prejudices of the court ought to have been against +instead of for him. He had failed in business, could not pay his +outstanding liabilities, and thus stood before the commercial world in +the position of bankruptcy. The fact that he had made a foolish +contract, which imperilled his life, does not improve his moral +condition, or entitle him to any just sympathy, unless it could be shown +that there was insanity in his family. No such plea was entered. His +counsel did not attempt to prove that his great-grandfather owned a mad +dog; a plea from which the court, fortified by many modern criminal +decisions, might have inferred his moral insanity. No such attempt to +relieve Antonio from the consequences of his criminal folly was made, +and I can see nothing in the case to entitle him to the sympathy which +was and had been always entertained for him.</p> + +<p>Again: The lengthy and much-admired plea of the defendant's counsel on +the subject of mercy was clearly out of place, especially if, as I have +endeavored to show, the defendant was not entitled to any particular +clemency or sympathy. The remarks of Portia, commencing,</p> + +<p class='center'> +'The quality of Mercy is not strained,' +</p> + +<p>(and, by the way, who but a woman would talk of straining an emotion as +one strains milk?) are wholly irrelevant to the issue, and ought not to +have been allowed. They were eloquent, indeed, but had nothing whatever +to do with <i>the trial</i>, which arose on a very plain case at law: A owed +B three thousand ducats, due and not paid on an ascertained day. +Whereupon B moves the court for the penalty, and demands judgment. If +the defendant had no answer at law, there is an end to the case; and it +was very irregular, impertinent, and contrary to well-settled practice +for the defendant's counsel to endeavor to lead off the mind of the +court from the true issue of the case. Portia, in what she says of mercy +being 'twice blessed' and 'dropping like the gentle rain from heaven,' +&c., &c., was, I fear, 'talking buncombe,' and all that part of her +speech should be stricken from the record, especially as it was +addressed to the plaintiff instead of the court, a highly indecorous +proceeding. Instead of indulging in all this sentimentality, her true +course would have been to have filed a bill in equity against Shylock, +and have obtained an injunction on an <i>ex parte</i> affidavit, which only +requires a little strong swearing; or to have patched up a suit against +him for obtaining his knife under false pretences; than which (under the +New York code of procedure) nothing can be easier. But what better +conduct of a suit can you expect from a she-advocate—an +attorney-in-petticoats?</p> + +<p>And this brings me to another point of some delicacy, and which nothing +but a conscientious devotion to abstract justice would induce me to +touch upon. What law, or what precedent, can be cited to authorize a +woman to appear as an advocate in a court of justice and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span> usurp the +offices and prerogatives of a man? I will not dwell upon the impropriety +of such conduct; but on my honor, as a member of the bar, the behavior +of Portia was outrageous. This young female, not content with +'cavorting' around the country in a loose and perspicuous style, +actually practises a gross swindle on the court. She assumes to be a man +when she is only a woman, dons the breeches when she is only entitled to +the skirts, and imposes herself upon the Duke of Venice as a learned +young advocate from Rome, when in fact she is only a young damsel of +Belmont, with half a dozen lovers on hand, on her own showing. And yet +this young baggage, whose own father would not trust her to choose a +husband, whose brains are addled by her own love affairs, and who had no +more business in court than the deacon would have in Chancellor +Whiting's suit in the Lowber claim, not only came into court under a +fraudulent disguise, argued the case under false pretences, but actually +took the words from the judge's own mouth, and decided her case on her +own responsibility. I venture to say that such unparalleled impudence +was never witnessed out of the court of a justice of the peace, and that +even Judge —— (unless the editor of the —— had interfered) would have +marched this false pretender out of court, or have deposited her in the +Tombs on an attachment of contempt.</p> + +<p>But these preliminary points appear of small moment when we come to +consider the plea, if it be worthy of that name, which the counsel for +the defendant opposed to the suit of the plaintiff. The bond is +admitted, the penalty is confessed, the pound of flesh is forfeited, the +bosom of Antonio is bared to the knife—when this brief but brief-less +barrister, this skylarking young judge of Belmont steps jauntily +forward, with a most preposterous quibble on her lips, and manages by an +adroit subtlety to defeat the judgment to which the plaintiff is legally +entitled. She awards the flesh, fibres, nerves, adipose matter, in +controversy, to Shylock; but declares his life and fortune confiscate if +he sheds a drop of blood, or takes more or less than the exact pound.</p> + +<p>Now if there be one principle of law better settled than another (and +probably it was as clearly set forth in the Revised Statutes of Venice +as is set forth in our own common law), it is that a party entitled to +the possession of a commodity, whether grain, guano, dead or live men's +flesh, bones and sinews, is entitled, also, to pursue the usual +necessary and appropriate means of obtaining the possession of the same. +I appeal to Colonel W—— if this be not good law, and asking whether, +if he be entitled to a dinner, he has not a right to seize upon it, +whenever or however he can find it; whether, if a man owes him a bottle +of champagne, he has not the right to break the neck of the bottle if a +corkscrew is not convenient? So, to use a drier example, the sale of +standing timber entitles the purchaser to enter the land upon which it +is situated, and to cut down and carry off his own property. On the same +principle, if A sells B a house and lot, entirely surrounded by other +land owned by A, B has clearly a right of way to his own wife and +fireside over A's land. (2 Blackstone 1149.) A hundred examples might be +given in point, but it would be insulting the dignity of this court to +argue at length a theory so transparently clear. If the shedding of a +few drops of blood, more or less, was incidental and necessary to the +rights of the plaintiff, if the article of personal property, forfeited +to him on the bond, could be obtained in no other way, then, according +to all the principles of law and common sense, he <i>had</i> a right to spill +those drops, more or less; and that, too, without legal risk.</p> + +<p>If the penalty was legal, and that were admitted, the method of exacting +it was legal also. Portia's quibble was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</a></span> so transparent and barefaced +that the decision of the court can only be explained on the theory that +the court was drunk, or in love, which seems to have been the condition +of several of the prominent parties in this proceeding, excepting always +the plaintiff. As to the other part of Portia's plea, it is doubtless +true that the plaintiff would take more of the commodity involved in the +suit than the court awarded him at his peril; but as half a pound, or a +quarter of a pound, cut off from the right spot would have answered his +purpose, I do not see under what principle of law he was defrauded of +that satisfaction. There was nothing to have prevented him from cutting +less than a pound from Antonio's body, and of so releasing him, the +defendant, from a portion of the penalty; and the court should have +instructed the plaintiff as to his rights in this particular, instead of +adopting a quibble worthy of only a Tombs lawyer or a third-rate +pettifogger.</p> + +<p>I cannot then believe that Mr. Reporter Shakspeare, in handing down to +posterity the record of this remarkable case, meant to express an +approval of Portia's subterfuge. My inference rather is that he was +aiming a covert sarcasm at those women who thrust themselves +conspicuously upon the notice of the public, and that he meant to hint +that those who thus unsex themselves often make a showy appearance +without displaying much solid merit. If this subtle, sharp, and +strong-minded female did not turn out to be something of a shrew, before +her husband was done with her, I am much mistaken. Possibly, however, +Shakspeare's sarcasm might bear a more general interpretation, and +implies that women in an argument seldom meet the true issue presented +to them, but are prone to go off at a tangent on some side quibble, and +to repel the arguments of their antagonists by the subtlety of their +inventions rather than by the cogency of their logic. I appeal to my +friend, the sage of Cattaraugus, who has a large knowledge of the +customs of the sex, if this be not the usual result.</p> + +<p>Not to cut the reply of the deacon too short, I go on to remark that +whether he agrees with me or not, neither he nor any other well-balanced +man would have descended, on the trial of so important a case as the one +we are discussing, to a trivial playing upon words. Even my friend, the +district attorney, than whom no man is more remorselessly given—in +private life—to the depraved habit of quibbling, and who never +hesitates to impale truth upon the point of a verbal criticism, would by +the temptation of a fee commensurate with the vigor of the moral effort +required, have discussed the question on broader and truer principles. +Had he been retained on the part of Antonio, he would have proved +himself equal to the occasion, and have unfolded a logical and +consistent answer to the claim of the plaintiff.</p> + +<p>He would have boldly attacked the bond itself, as absolutely void in its +inception, because it was aimed at the life of a citizen of Venice, and +would have called upon the court to abrogate a contract which violated +the very laws that the court was bound to administer. With his usual +eloquence, he would have urged that a penalty so illegal, immoral, and +monstrous, and which involved the commission of the highest crime, +except treason, known to the laws of the state, could never be enforced +in a civilized country. He would have offered to the court no woman's +quibble like that of Portia, based upon the assumption that the penalty +of a bond which sanctioned a high and capital crime could be enforced in +a court of law; and in fine, would have addressed an argument to the +reason and understanding of the court which might render a consideration +of this case by the tribunal unnecessary.</p> + +<p>But no good plea to the plaintiff's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span> cause of action was made on the +trial, and the court was, and I fear that the whole world has been +deceived by Portia's subterfuge. We must, therefore, regard Shylock as a +badly used man. After all, he was no worse than many creditors and note +shavers of this day, who <i>only</i> demand the life blood of their victims, +and if on the pleas before the court he was entitled to judgment, like +them he should have had it. Doubtless in private life Shylock was a very +honest and well-behaved gentleman, not a mere mountebank as he is +sometimes represented on the stage, but a vigorous and energetic man of +the world, shrewd, sagacious, and long sighted in business, honored on +change, respected by his friends, and a pattern of prudence and +morality. And then, perhaps, he was only carrying on a joke, a kind of +<i>Jew d'esprit</i>, conceived in a moment of amiable eccentricity, and never +to be executed. If not a joke, however, the judgment of Judge Portia +should be set aside, and a new trial, with costs, should, in my opinion, +have been ordered.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_HEROINE_OF_TO-DAY" id="A_HEROINE_OF_TO-DAY"></a>A HEROINE OF TO-DAY.</h2> + + +<p>We had watched with her alternate nights throughout all her illness, but +this night we thought would be her last, and neither of us was willing +to leave her. The surgeons and nurses had gone, and we were at last +alone. We sat through the remaining hours in deathly stillness, +occasionally moistening the lips and tongue of the sufferer. It was the +last office of friendship, and I yielded it, though reluctantly, to her +earliest and dearest friend. Monotonous the hours were, but not long. We +would have made them longer if we could, for though the waning life +before us was but the faintest shadow of the life we had companioned +with, we were loath to lose it—to face the blank that would be left +when it was gone.</p> + +<p>One, two, three o'clock sounded, and still no perceptible change; but +soon after the breathing became shorter, a slight film gathered on her +eyes, and we stood in the presence of the last great mystery. Shorter +and shorter grew the breath, deeper and deeper the film, till, just as +the first gray light showed itself in the eastern horizon, came the last +sigh, and Mrs. Simmons, leaning forward, exclaimed in a low voice, 'It +is over.' As for me, I buried my face in the pillow and wept +unrestrainedly.</p> + +<p>In a hospital the day treads closely on the night, and soon the morning +came. We retired to our apartment for rest, but we could not sleep. We +could only think of our loss, and after an hour or two we rose, somewhat +rested, but not refreshed. Ever since my first acquaintance with +Laetitia Sunderland, I had eagerly desired to learn her previous life. +Glimpses of it I had obtained, but I wanted it as a whole, and now I was +with one, perhaps for the last time, who could give me a full account of +it. It was an opportunity not to be lost, and while partaking of our +morning coffee, I asked Mrs. Simmons if she would tell me what I so +longed to know. She willingly assented, and as I was relieved from duty +for the day, and the morning was mild and beautiful, we sought a rustic +seat in the garden, and there in a little nook retired from view, I +heard the story of that life to which my own during the past year had +been so closely knit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</a></span></p> + +<p>'There is one thing,' said Mrs. Simmons, 'in regard to our friend, to +which we have never alluded, and which, perhaps, you would rather have +me now pass over; but on that very thing her whole character and history +turn, and to omit it would leave nothing worth the telling—I mean her +personal appearance.</p> + +<p>'When I was a child, my parents moved into the suburbs of Condar, and as +there were no houses between ours and Mr. Sunderland's, the two families +soon became well acquainted. On the day that I was ten years old, my +mother told me there was a baby girl at Mrs. Sunderland's, and said she +would take me to see it. I was delighted, and wanted to go immediately, +but mother said I must wait till to-morrow. To-morrow came, and I was +sick; and at last the baby was a week old when I was taken, the happiest +little mortal in existence, into that upper room where the little one +lay in its nurse's arms. I looked at it, and then at my mother.'</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Mary?' said she.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a very pretty baby, is it, mother?'</p> + +<p>"Oh it will grow prettier," said my mother, and with that I was +satisfied. I was extravagantly fond of babies, and this one I adopted as +my especial care, for there was no other in the neighborhood; and +besides, in my childish confusion of ideas, I supposed we were twins, +our birthdays being the same.</p> + +<p>'From the time Laetitia first learned to speak, she came to me with all +her troubles and her interests, and I was always glad to be her +sympathizer, her counsellor, and her playmate. When she was five or six +years old she went to the nearest district school. She was always a +marked girl, from her extreme homeliness, her excellent scholarship, her +boldness in all active sports, and an odd humor which never failed to +interest and amuse. My mother's prophecy, alas! was not fulfilled. She +grew no prettier, but rather the reverse. She was the same in childhood +as when you knew her, with the high, bold forehead, crowned with white, +towy hair, small greenish-gray eyes, shaded and yet not shaded with +light yellowish eyelashes, short and thin; scanty eyebrows of the same +color; a nose so small and flat it seemed scarcely a projection from her +face; teeth tolerably good, but chin and mouth receding in a peculiar +manner, and very disagreeably; and a thick, waxy complexion, worse in +childhood than of late years, for the spirit had not then found its way +through it, as it did afterward. Moreover, by a singular malignancy of +fortune, when she was twelve years old, she was attacked with varioloid, +and taking a severe cold as she was getting well, had a relapse, and was +left as you see her, not closely marked, but sufficiently pitted to +attract attention.</p> + +<p>'My parents thought more of education than the Sunderlands, and my +advantages were much better than Laetitia's. I went for some time to a +good select school in the town, and afterward two years to an excellent +boarding school. When Laetitia had learned all that her instructors in +the little district school could teach her, she came to me and begged +that I would let her read with me. I was very glad to do so, and soon +after my cousin and niece joined us. To those readings I am indebted for +some of the most delightful hours of my life. My pupils, as I used to +call them, were at that age when childhood is verging into womanhood, +and it was my delight to watch the first dawnings of consciousness in +their minds, the first awakening to the realities of life. Laetitia was +the youngest of the three, but she was as intelligent and mature as the +others. How well I remember the glow of enthusiasm with which she read +of the heroes and martyrs of old, the intense sympathy with which she +entered into the <i>amor patriæ</i> of the Greek and Roman, and her fervent +admiration for the nobleness of action which this feeling called forth +in them!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span></p> + +<p>'The second year I began to see the development of new sentiments. The +romance of life, as well as its heroism and duties, was revealed to +them. Pieces of poetry which before had been read listlessly, or with +only a distant apprehension of their meaning, were now full of interest. +The sentiment which had passed unnoticed, now kindled their imaginations +with delight; and there came, too, all the new attentions to dress and +looks which first show themselves at this time. Life lay before them, +golden and beautiful, and they saw all its shining angels coming to meet +them—love, friendship, duty, praise, self-sacrifice, each with a joy in +her hand, but the sorrow was concealed from their eyes, or, rather, was +but another form of joy. They admitted its probability, but it was with +the disguised pleasure which we feel in the troubles of the heroines of +romance.</p> + +<p>'Laetitia shared these feelings with the others, though with less +reason; but her thought and imagination were so vivid, and gave color so +completely to her life, that it would have been as absurd for her as for +them to have looked at the probabilities of the case. Never once did she +say to herself, that to one in her circumstances, life would most likely +be full of disappointments and commonplace incidents. But time, the +great revealer, soon opened to her those pages which her wisest friend +would not have dared to show her so early.</p> + +<p>'One evening I went to Mrs. Sunderland's on some trivial errand. The +family were all out excepting Laetitia, whom I found sitting by the +window, in the dark, with her head resting on her hand. Her manner +indicated great depression; and I looked at her a moment and said, 'My +dear child, what is the matter with you this evening?'</p> + +<p>'Her head dropped upon the table, and she burst into tears. She +continued to weep and sob, till, seeing she was not relieved, I put my +hand upon her shoulder and said, 'Laetitia, Laetitia, don't cry so.'</p> + +<p>'Don't call me Laetitia,' she replied. 'I shall never be Laetitia +again.'</p> + +<p>'The answer seemed melodramatic, but I knew she was suffering. Still I +responded lightly: 'Oh yes, you will be Laetitia many, many times yet. +'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,' you +know.'</p> + +<p>'She did not reply, and we sat a while in silence, till at length I +begged of her to tell me the cause of her grief, just to see if I could +not help her. I think she wanted to tell it, for she tried two or three +times, but could not get any further than 'Yesterday afternoon'—At last +she said, 'I have a very great trouble; it will never be any less as +long as I live, and it will forever keep me from being happy. I <i>cannot</i> +tell it to you: can you help me without knowing it?'</p> + +<p>'This was a new appeal, and I did not know how to answer it, but a +thought came to me, and I replied: 'Go and tell God about it.'</p> + +<p>'This I said at a venture, for, old as I was, I had never called upon +Him in deep distress, and I did not know what the effect would be; but I +saw immediately that the advice was unexpected, and seemed to meet the +exigency.</p> + +<p>'Her mother's voice was at that moment heard at the door, and I went out +to give Laetitia an opportunity of slipping off to her room without +meeting the family.</p> + +<p>''Have you seen 'Titia?' said Mrs. Sunderland to me.</p> + +<p>''Yes, she has just gone to her room.'</p> + +<p>''Well, I don't know what's the matter with the child since last night, +she's acted so queer. I 'spect she'll get over it, though; she always +did have tantrums.'</p> + +<p>'In one sense, however, she never did get over it, and it was many years +before she really recovered much of her old light-heartedness, although +she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</a></span> an appearance of it to superficial companions. For a long time +her inner life was shut from the view of her friends; but I am at +present able to read it for you, partly from what she herself told me +afterward, and partly from that insight which we all have into those +lives and experiences with which we are in sympathy.</p> + +<p>'One afternoon she left me very happy and gay, and went to see a friend +near the town. She was returning slowly toward home, satisfied with +herself, and enjoying intensely the beauty of the season, when she saw +two ladies approaching her. They were strangers, and she looked at them +with interest, attracted by their pleasing faces and graceful bearing. +As they passed her, she overheard one of them say in an undertone, 'What +a frightfully homely girl!'</p> + +<p>'There could be no mistake. She only was meant, and the words went like +a sharp dagger to her heart.</p> + +<p>'While she was thinking how charming they were, she to them appeared +only frightful. The whole future in an instant opened before her, and +she saw herself, as she moved through it, constantly exciting, wherever +she went, only repulsion in the minds of strangers and friends.</p> + +<p>'All the charm and interest of life fled at the moment. That day and the +next she was in a stupor of grief, from which she was first awakened by +my tones of sympathy. My advice, too, opened a door of relief by giving +her something to <i>do</i>. For the first time she remembered there was a +Being who knew all about her sorrow, knew it was coming, understood its +cause, and its effects. This Being she could open her mind to, and only +to Him. He would not be surprised, and He would not annoy her with +sympathy which could not cure and would only irritate. She knelt down, +and with minute fidelity told Him every thought of her heart. The next +day she felt cheerful—she thought she was resigned; but it was only the +reaction caused by the tears and confession of the previous night, and +it soon passed away. The words 'frightfully homely' echoed and re-echoed +through her heart. All that was dreary, hopeless, and miserable +clustered around them, and shut out from her the bright, happy life of +the past. Her duties were performed as before. With others she was +sufficiently animated; but when alone, she was wretched. Thus the months +rolled on, till they became a year; and I, who had never been deceived +by her occasional liveliness, began to think what I could do to change +the current of her thoughts, which seemed to have no tendency to change +of themselves.</p> + +<p>'But Laetitia's life was not all feeling. Feeling suffers passively, +with greater or less endurance, according to the strength of the +physical frame, but the intellect always seeks a remedy for sorrow. It +seemed horrible to her that she of all the world—of all her world, at +least—should be so homely that no one could look on her without pain. +It was intolerable, it ought not to have been, but it <i>was</i> permitted, +it must be. Rebellion came of course, bitter rebellion, but it could do +no good. There was the fate, it was impossible to escape it. What then? +Drag through a miserable life till death came happily to relieve it? She +was too young. Fifty, sixty years of travel over a dreary, barren waste, +with no joy upon it? No, no, she could not do it—suicide first. But +suicide was wrong, and could never be resorted to. There <i>must</i> be some +relief elsewhere. Where was it? what was it?</p> + +<p>'Continual dropping will wear away a stone, and continual thinking will +wear a hollow into the stoniest of mysteries. At length, through all the +mists of proximate causes and natural laws, some glorious truths became +clear to her. The near and the visible receded to their proper +importance, and she learned to hold principles and ideas more dear than +the externals which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span> embody them. She saw that God loves His children +equally, and though the laws of nature must take their course, there is +room for each result in His design; and in the infinite of His heart and +His work each individual has place and purpose. She found, too, that +angels laden with joy might descend and ascend between His soul and hers +without a ladder made of earthly triumphs and successes. Thus in place +of rebellion came happy acquiescence.</p> + +<p>'But she was not yet contented. She was convinced that there was a life +for her which she could not or would not lead if she were like others; +but this life she could not find. She saw no intimations of it in +herself. She had no genius for any special thing, and she continued +restless and disturbed, wondering what it was appointed to her to do. At +length it came to her.</p> + +<p>'One day, as she was passing the house of her physician, through the +open window she saw and heard that which induced her to go in and offer +her services. A man in a disgusting stage of intoxication had cut his +arm badly, and had come to have it bound up. His little child was with +him, shrieking with terror, her face and clothes covered with dirt. The +doctor roughly and with ill-concealed repugnance was caring for the +wound, while the cook, with no attempt at concealment, was loudly +expressing her disapprobation of the whole proceeding. Laetitia assisted +the doctor, and washed off the blood; then took the child home with her, +bathed her, gave her clean clothes and a dinner, and sent her away with +a new happiness in her heart. While she was doing all this, she found +what she had been seeking. There are very many things in this world +disagreeable in the extreme, which ought to be done with interest, with +care, with <i>love</i>. Why should she not undertake to do them? In +themselves they would be repugnant, but <i>she</i> would do them for God, and +she loved her Heavenly Father so well that the hardest thing done for +Him would be the sweetest. In a day or two the feeling settled itself: +it was firmly impressed upon her mind that in these employments she +would have rest.</p> + +<p>'One morning, about two years perhaps after the first day of her sorrow, +she dropped into my room with something of her old suddenness, and, +after the customary greetings, said simply: 'I am happy again now.'</p> + +<p>''You need not tell me that: I can see it in your face.'</p> + +<p>'The pleased expression remained for a moment, and then an intensely +black cloud fell upon her countenance. She said nothing more, and in a +few minutes went away. You see how it was—by one of those freaks by +which the imagination loves to torture us, my remark recalled her whole +misery and its unalterable cause, and having lost for the time the +keynote to her new-found joy, the other took entire possession of her +mind and overwhelmed it. In a few days she came back to me, and I said: +'I pained you when you were here before. I do not know how, but I am +very sorry.'</p> + +<p>'You did pain me, but you were entirely innocent. Afterward it grieved +me still more that I <i>was</i> pained—that what you said had the <i>power</i> to +pain me. I will tell you all, if you will hear it;' and, without waiting +for my answer, she gave me the key to the last two years of her life.</p> + +<p>'She finished, but I had nothing to reply. She had said all. Hitherto I +had led her, but now her experience was deeper than mine. Besides, I +could then less than ever understand the life that was opening before +her, for I had just yielded my heart and promised my hand to one whom I +loved; and though I by no means thought it impossible that she, too, +might have tried the same path, yet I knew she thought so; and I could +not conceive how she could look forward with contentment to a life in +which that element of happiness was wanting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span> I could only assure her of +my own warm affection, an assurance which gave her a pleasure that it +always makes me happy to think of.</p> + +<p>'Notwithstanding the apparently contradictory evidence of her late +depression, her new experience was not precarious and uncertain: it was +firm, enduring, to be <i>rested</i> upon in the most trying emergencies; yet +it was not, for many years, unwavering. During all that period of a +woman's life when looks and manners pass for so much, and the real +character for so little, she suffered at times greatly. As she went +onward, every new phase of the feelings which possess a girl's heart +brought with it its own pang, and each had to be overcome, some by +stifling, some by postponement to another existence, and others by +studying to dissever, if possible, the essential sentiment from the +shows in which it was imbedded. She was unwilling passively to outgrow +her trials, feeling that thereby she would lose the strength they were +intended to give. Her work, however, helped her more than anything. She +was not eager to enter upon it. She did not stretch forth impatient, +unskilled hands toward what her Father had designed for her. Entirely +confident, she was right, she was at ease, knowing her work would come +to her in the proper time, and it did.</p> + +<p>'I must say something about this work of hers, else you will be misled. +She undertook to do that which others would not do, or would not do +well, owing to a natural dislike to the thing itself. Not intending to +become a drudge, she did not allow indolence or sentimentality to shift +upon her that which others would be all the better for doing themselves. +She knew what Master she served, and looked to Him for guidance, and not +to the wishes and opinions of her fellow mortals. Gradually she found +enough to do, first in her own house, and then outside. Friends and +acquaintances called upon her, philanthropic societies applied for her +services, surgeons and nurses sought her assistance, and even strangers +learned that there was one who would willingly do for them, in cases of +emergency, what they could not do, and what no wages could procure well +done. As her life became known, she obtained the respect of some, the +contempt of others, and the wonderment of most. I will not specify what +she did, for my story is already getting too long; but you would be +surprised to know how often she was needed.</p> + +<p>'Her means, though small, were large enough to allow her to do most of +her work gratuitously, but she received sufficient pecuniary +compensation during the year to enable her to provide well for herself +and give much to others.</p> + +<p>'In pursuing the duties of her vocation, she came in contact at one time +or another with almost every kind of misery, and though, from +familiarity, she ceased to be shocked at new forms of suffering, yet she +never became hardened, but each year grew more tender and sympathizing.</p> + +<p>'In due time the practical workings of the great sin of the nineteenth +century came under her observation. She talked with fugitive slaves, and +all the pent-up fire within her burst forth in intense indignation. She +had not thought of the question before—it had not been in her way; but +now every feeling, her love of God, her love of country, her great +interest in human rights and destinies, conspired to make her throw her +whole soul into it, and she saw slavery as it is, its intense wickedness +and its fearful results. She looked with dismay at its effect upon the +country, its 'trail' upon everything in it, on church, on politics, on +society, on commerce, on manufactures, on education. There was nothing +which had not been corrupted by it—it was fast eating into the vitals +of religion and liberty. The more she studied the subject the more +earnest grew her feeling. But what should she do? She had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span> not lost +self-love, that passion which never deserts us; but she had lost its +<i>glamour</i>—eyes that have wept much see clear—and she knew that the +least valuable offering which a woman without good looks, high position, +or great talent, can make to an unpopular cause, is—herself. So far +from her conspicuous support of a new thing being an encouragement and +assistance to others, it would be a hindrance: fear of being identified +with her would be another lion to be encountered in the path.</p> + +<p>'She loved her cause better than she loved herself, and would not make +it more odious by any marked advocacy of it. It was a new trial to her, +but she did not murmur. One who in early youth has rebelled against the +very laws by which he has his existence, and has become reconciled, does +not go through life hitting his head against every projection which +society thrusts in his way. She did what she could. She cleared +<i>herself</i>, as far as possible, from all participation in the sin, gladly +avowed her views when called upon, and never hesitated to show, by +suitable words and acts, her sympathy with a despised people. Yet she +could not accomplish much. But if she did little for the cause, it did a +great deal for her. It broadened her life, enlarged her views, increased +her comprehension of the world's progress as revealed in history, and +brought her into closer sympathy with reformers of all ages. It gave her +a perpetual object of interest. It was like a great drama, whose acts +were years and whose scenes were continually passing before her. It gave +a new zest to life, made this world more real, and diminished her +longings for the next. In narrowing her friendships it made them more +vital and satisfactory; and being in communion with hundreds of other +minds in the country, reading their thoughts became almost like personal +intercourse with them, and was a new happiness to her. Studying daily a +subject of such vast complications, her mind perceptibly grew, and from +year to year she was able to grasp new and higher truths. She gained the +hatred of a few clear-sighted opponents, but most persons only ridiculed +her, contemptuously wondering why she should pursue this course when her +interest lay so clearly the other way. But she was now far beyond the +reach of such weapons.</p> + +<p>'I have given you, thus, a sketch of the history and character of +Laetitia, but I cannot reproduce her as she appears to my own mind. You +must fill up the outlines from your own personal knowledge. I fear I +have rendered her too intense, and, perhaps, too sombre. Intense she +certainly was, but it did not oppress one in ordinary intercourse; and +she was not at all sombre. After she recovered fully from her youthful +grief, her elasticity of temperament returned, and her love of fun. She +looked on the bright side of all things, and was full of encouragement +and hope for her friends. To me, besides being, during the last five +years particularly, a valuable friend and adviser—no one but myself can +know how valuable—she was always an interesting companion. And yet she +was not generally liked. She was seldom understood. Her life was so +deep, her tone of thought so peculiar; and her dependence upon the +opinions of others so slight, that persons ordinarily could not 'make +her out,' as they said. Still she had very warm friends, and derived +great pleasure from their friendship. I have never seen any one derive +more. But she distrusted strangers; I mean their interest in her. She +did not expect new persons to care for her, and it took her a long while +to be sure that they did. I must myself confess, for the first and last +time, that until within two or three years I never met her after an +absence without being newly impressed with her exceeding homeliness. It +was a sin against friendship, I knew, and I was glad when I felt I was +free from it.'</p> + +<p>'It was not so with me,' I said. 'After I became accustomed to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span> face +it never affected me unpleasantly. I did not see the features, but the +spirit which animated them.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, you were with her continually, and, besides, she must have been so +completely identified in your mind with the relief of pain, that you +could think of her only as an angel of mercy. It was a great advantage +to her that she was always scrupulously neat in her dress and person; +and her clothes, too, were well put on, if without a great deal of +taste.</p> + +<p>'Upon the whole, her life was a happy one, though not perhaps triumphant +except in periods of exaltation, for there was a large part of her +nature unsatisfied; but she was thoroughly contented, willingly living +as long as was necessary, glad to go whenever the time came. She never +expected to die young, but she did; she was only thirty-six.'</p> + +<p>'She seemed older,' I said.</p> + +<p>'Yes, she always looked older than she was, and then she had lived so +much that she necessarily impressed one as being old.</p> + +<p>'She followed,' continued Mrs. Simmons, resuming her narrative, 'with +increasing interest the progress of the grand anti-slavery drama, until +that winter which, in defiance of all mathematical measurements, every +American <i>knows</i> to be the longest in the annals of his country. With +fixed attention she watched every event, every indication. What next +would come she could not see, but she felt sure she should have some +part in it, whatever it was. At length the signal gun pealed forth, the +first shot was fired, the spell was broken. She wrote me, 'America calls +her sons and daughters. Up! up! to work! all true-hearted men and women! +live for me, die for me, and your reward shall be everlasting. There is +a work for all, for all who love freedom, for all who love democracy, +for all who love humanity, for all who love right law, union, and +peace.'</p> + +<p>'She felt that all her life had been preparing for this moment. Averse +to war as she was from instinct and principle, she yet believed it +necessary in the progress of the world, and her clear eyes scattered all +the sophisms which made both sides partly wrong and partly right. She +looked only at essential principles, and she saw that on one side was +God, and in the current of His good will to men they were fighting; on +the other was Satan, and by whatever plausible arguments he might +deceive some, he could never do aught but cause and perpetuate evil. Her +mind was quickly made up, and she asked me in her letter what steps she +should take. I sent for her to come to me, and we applied to a committee +to receive her as nurse. A great many questions were asked her, and then +her application was accepted; but she was kept waiting for the final +answer more than a week. Fast as heads and hearts and hands moved in +those days, still time could not be annihilated—it must have its place +in every work. I was present when her case was discussed.</p> + +<p>''I think she is an enthusiast,' said one; 'I am sure she will not do.'</p> + +<p>''We are all enthusiasts now,' answered another; 'that does not make any +difference.'</p> + +<p>''I don't believe she is,' exclaimed a pretty young woman; 'behind such +a face there can be only a very matter-of-fact mind.'</p> + +<p>'A tall, cold-looking lady said: 'No, she is a devotee; I know it by her +manner. We do not want such persons.'</p> + +<p>''I do not think we can afford to lose her services,' interrupted +another, who had been looking over a pile of papers. 'Listen to her +testimonials. Here is one from Dr. Weston, another from the Rev. Mr. +Samuels, and others. Listen, she is just the one we want.'</p> + +<p>All listened, and when Laetitia came, after another flood of questions, +her credentials were given her. During this delay, though she was, like +all the rest of us, at white heat regarding her country, she was +entirely quiet about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span> herself. I asked her what she would do if she were +not accepted. 'I shall go,' said she, 'whatever obstacles are thrown in +the way.' She started very soon for the seat of war. I came here with +her to see that she had everything she needed, and you know the rest +better than I do.'</p> + +<p>Yes, I knew the rest, for I had been with her ever since.</p> + +<p>Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a +'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be +received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of +experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary, +I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a +new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I +passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face. +'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a +perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was +again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a +side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a +lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened +to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen +words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I +must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going +to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the +previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed. +I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her +assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in +the building.</p> + +<p>Her presence in the hospital was soon evident. The surgeons found with +surprise that her skill and knowledge were equal to every requirement, +that she shrank from no task, however fearfully repelling it might be, +and they quickly began to avail themselves of her womanly deftness. To +the soldiers she was a perpetual blessing. Every means which her +thoughtful experience could suggest she put in requisition to soothe +their pain or strengthen them to bear it. Nature, who never denies all +gifts to any of her children, had given her a good voice, not powerful, +but sweet and penetrating, and often, when all else failed, I have seen +her lull a patient to sleep with some favorite tune set to appropriate +words. Priceless indeed were her services, and priceless was the +recompense she received.</p> + +<p>But for the humor that peeped out occasionally in Miss Sunderland, to an +ordinary observer her character—as she moved unambitiously through the +wards, doing always the right thing at the right time, unexpectant of +blame and regardless of praise, obeying directions apparently to the +very letter, yet never allowing the mistakes or carelessness of the +director to mar her own work—would have seemed almost colorless; but I +have never considered myself an ordinary observer where character is +concerned, and I soon saw that hers was not the unreasoning goodness of +instinct, that it derived life and tone from a past full of culture and +discipline. I noticed in her three things particularly: First, complete +and unusual happiness, a happiness entirely independent of the incidents +of the day. It was as if an unclouded sun were perpetually shining in +her heart. This came, I knew afterward, from the fact that she was +serving the cause she loved most, that she was doing her work well, and +that through it and connected with it she found place for all her best +qualities and highest knowledge. Second, her thorough refinement. +Without, as I perceived, hereditary breeding, and without conventional +pruderies, she had a rare purity and elevation of feeling, which exerted +a manifest and constant influence, sadly needed in a soldiers' hospital. +Third,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span> her life within. From choice, not from necessity, her life +continually turned upon itself; from within she found her chief motive, +sanction, and reward, and this took from her intercourse with others all +pettiness, and made their relations to herself uncommonly truthful.</p> + +<p>From time to time, as the scene of battle shifted, we removed to other +hospitals, I always accompanying Miss Sunderland; but at last, in the +spring, we again got back to Washington. The battles all around were +raging fearfully, and the wounded were continually brought to us in +scores. Day and night Miss Sunderland was engaged. Usually careful of +herself in the extreme, she seemed now to forget all prudence.</p> + +<p>'You cannot endure this,' said I one day to her. 'Your first duty is to +take care of your health.'</p> + +<p>'No, no,' said she, 'my first duty is to save the lives of these men; +the second, to take care of my health for their future benefit; but I +cannot give out now. Don't you see how necessary my work is?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I see it,' I replied. 'I don't know how you could spare yourself, +but it does not seem right that you should be entirely worn out.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, it <i>is</i> right,' answered she; 'a life saved now is of as much +consequence as one saved next year. I am useful at this time, for I +understand my profession; but others are learning the art of nursing in +no feeble school, and if I die, you will find plenty of new comers ready +to fill my place.'</p> + +<p>I knew from this that she anticipated the result, yet neither did I +myself see how it could be avoided; but I resolved to watch and spare +her all I could.</p> + +<p>During all the year, notwithstanding her unceasing cares, she had kept +herself well informed on public affairs. She knew every incident of the +war, and particularly all its moral defeats and victories. At one time +defeats of both kinds seemed to come thick and fast. She would shudder +sometimes, as she laid down the newspaper, and say: 'This prolongs the +war such a time;' weeks, months, or years, as it might be; but she never +was really disheartened. She did not doubt that the contest, when it did +come to a conclusion, would end in the triumph of the right, in the +triumph of freedom, in the regeneration of the nation; and her courage +never yielded, her resolution never faltered, till one day in the latter +part of May.</p> + +<p>She went out then in the afternoon to breathe the fresh air she so much +needed, but in a half hour came back with a new look in her face. A +stern, forbidding expression did not leave her during the day, and at +night she tossed about on her bed, wakeful and disturbed. At length she +rose, and sat for more than an hour by the window in the darkness, +seeking that peace which had left her so unaccountably. A new thought, +in time, took possession of her. She went back, and slept. In the +morning she called me to her, and told me that on the previous day she +had seen a black man knocked down in the streets of Washington and +carried in chains to slavery. Then she said in earnest tones: 'Child' +(she always called me <i>child</i>, though I was not much younger than +herself), 'have you in your life done all that you could do against this +abomination?'</p> + +<p>'No,' said I.</p> + +<p>'You hate it?' She asked; 'you understand its vileness, and hate it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I do now, from the bottom of my heart.'</p> + +<p>'Will you not promise me that until you die, you will, regardless of +self, use every effort in your power against it?'</p> + +<p>'I will, in all solemness and truth.'</p> + +<p>She was satisfied, and said no more, for she never wasted words, and I +recognized this as her legacy to me. The next day she was taken ill. I +immediately sent for Mrs. Simmons, who thought she would be able to take +her home with her; but before she arrived,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span> I saw it would not be +possible. Her only hope of recovery was in remaining where she was.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simmons came, and Miss Sunderland, notwithstanding our careful +preparations, was so overcome with emotion at meeting her old friend, +that for some time she could scarcely speak. After this warmth of +feeling had subsided, she looked up in her face with a pleasant smile, +and said:</p> + +<p>'I was well named, after all. I have entered into the joy of my Lord.'</p> + +<p>The next day she had an earnest talk with her friend on the present +state of the country. Her faith had returned through intuition, but the +grasp of her intellect was weakened by disease, and she could not see +clearly the grounds of it. Mrs. Simmons, though she had, like the rest +of us, seasons of doubt, was in a very hopeful mood that morning, +hopeful for our leading men, for the common people, and for the tendency +of events; and she explained the reasons for her belief that the +enormities of that period were no new crime, but a remnant of the old +not to be eradicated at once, any more than it is possible for an +individual to turn from great baseness to real goodness without some +backslidings, even after the most unmistakable of conversions. Miss +Sunderland was satisfied, the future again became clear to her, and +after that she seemed to lose interest in the details of affairs. Her +thoughts and conversation were filled with heaven and a regenerated +earth.</p> + +<p>We clung to hope as long as possible, but she herself saw the end of the +disease from the beginning. She talked with us, and with the soldiers +who were permitted to see her, as long as she was able. Wise words she +spoke, and words ever to be remembered; but at last weakness overcame +her, and her life was but a succession of gasps. One morning, after +being unconscious for many hours, she opened her eyes wide and looked at +us. She glanced from one to the other, and then, fixing her gaze on Mrs. +Simmons, said:</p> + +<p>'Mary, I am glad—I am glad'—but she was too weak, she could not finish +the sentence. Again she essayed. We heard the words 'frightfully +homely,' but we could not catch the rest. The light faded from her eyes, +and we thought we had seen the last expression of that wise and vigorous +mind; but the next day the bright, conscious look came again into her +face, but it gave no evidence of recognition, though ardent affection +sought eagerly for it. For a moment she lay still, and then said, in a +feeble but distinct voice:</p> + +<p>'It is better to enter into life maimed and halt than, having two hands +and two feet, to be cast into hell.' A half hour afterward she said +softly, as if to herself:</p> + +<p>'The joy of my Lord.'</p> + +<p>They were her last words. She relapsed into unconsciousness, and +lingered till the dawn of the next day, when she went to join that +glorious and still-increasing band of martyrs who have been found worthy +to die for our country.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SIMONY" id="SIMONY"></a>SIMONY.</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou hast diamonds and emeralds and greenbacks,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou hast more than a mortal can crave;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou canst make a big pile, yet be honest,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Contractor—oh, why wilt thou shave?</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NATIONAL_ODE" id="NATIONAL_ODE"></a>NATIONAL ODE.</h2> + +<h3>SUGGESTED BY THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION OF JANUARY 1, 1863.</h3> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>I.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shine forth upon the earth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bright day of dedicated birth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And breathe in thundering accents thy command!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A mighty nation's heart awake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her self-enwoven fetters shake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And vivify the pulses of the land!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Arising from the past</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">With stormy clouds o'ercast,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And darkened by a long-enduring night,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Future's child and Freedom's—seraph bright!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arise great day, and legions of the free,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath thy conquering flag, lead forth to victory.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>II.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great Freedom dead! Foul thought</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From lies of vaunting Treason caught,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Fear's pale minions, wrapped in sorrow's pall.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great Freedom dead! In God-like power,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis Freedom rules e'en this dread hour,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And guides the tempest 'neath whose blows we fall.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Yea! War and Anarchy</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Discord and Slavery,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And drunken Death, and all these tears</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shaking our hearts with unaccustomed fears—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">E'en these are Freedom, waiting to arise</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In glad eternal triumph from her foul disguise.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>III.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our country's glory slain!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her kingdom rent and torn in twain!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her strong foundations crumbling into dust!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With Truth's shield armed, and sword of light,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Speak thou, Columbia, in thy might,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unharmed by thy false children's hate and lust.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Arise—no more betrayed</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">By fears too long obeyed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And bid, from shore to distant shore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ten million voices, like the ocean's roar,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In one full chorus gloriously proclaim</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The pride and splendor of thy star-immortal fame.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>IV.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arise! no more delay!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arise! For this triumphant day</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shall crush the serpent cherished in thy breast.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">E'en now the slimy coils unfold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The venomed folds relax their hold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The tooth is drawn that stung thee from thy rest.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Arise! For with a groan</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Falls Slavery from his throne!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While, seizing Song's immortal lyre,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And girt afar with Heaven's Promethean fire,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eternal Freedom, winged with prophecy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Awakes, in swelling chords, the Anthem of the <span class="smcap">Free</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>V.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No more Conspiracy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With Treason linked and Anarchy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shall dig, with secret joy, their country's grave.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No more thy waning cheek shall pale,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy trembling limbs with terror fail,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thy bleeding wounds Heaven's balsam vainly crave.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Uplift thy forehead fair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And mark the monstrous snare</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of subtle foes, who sucked thy fainting breath,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And yielding thee to the embrace of death,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Awaited the fulfilment of their reign,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To shed thy lovely limbs dismembered o'er the plain.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>VI.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No more, degenerate,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And heedless of their darkening fate,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shall thine own children revel in thy woes—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Led on by War's red, baleful star,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">No more abandoned, bare,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Piercing with shrieks the air,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>VII.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No longer in sad scorn</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Forsaking her false kingdom in the West,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quitting a world too sunk in crime</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To heed that glorious light sublime—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No longer shall she hide her burning crest—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">No more her children's cries</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">In vain appeal shall rise,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>VIII.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy courts no more defiled,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy people's hearts no more beguiled!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Prosperity and holy Peace</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within thy borders shall increase—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Future's dawning glory draweth near!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The vine-clad South shall rest</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Upon her brother's breast,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And, smiling in the glory of his worth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While tributes of the world's full treasures blent</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent!</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>IX.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Joy! Joy! Awake the strain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And still repeat the glad refrain</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of Liberty, resounding to the sky.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Around thee float thy sacred dead,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose martyr blood for thee was shed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whose angel choirs, celestial, hover nigh!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Joy! Joy! No longer weep:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Rich harvests shalt thou reap,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose seeds, in tears and anguish sown,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With bounteous rapture thy rich feasts shall crown,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When, rising to fulfil thy destiny,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou leadest the nations on to Peace and Liberty.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b>X.</b></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hail then to thee, great day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bright herald of the coming sway</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of Truth immortal and immortal Love—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Uplift in fuller strains thy voice,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Call all the nations to rejoice,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And grasp thy olive—Time's long-promised dove!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">No longer tempest-tost,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Redeem dark ages lost;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And may the work by thee begun</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ne'er pause nor falter 'till yon rising sun</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beholds the flag of Promise, now unfurled</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Neath Freedom's conquering smile, extending o'er the world.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SURRENDER_OF_FORTS_JACKSON_AND_ST_PHILIP_ON_THE_LOWER_MISSISSIPPI" id="THE_SURRENDER_OF_FORTS_JACKSON_AND_ST_PHILIP_ON_THE_LOWER_MISSISSIPPI"></a>THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI.</h2> + + +<p>A complete history of the bombardment and subsequent surrender of Forts +Jackson and St. Philip, and of the brilliant passage of our fleet up the +Mississippi river, which resulted in the capitulation of New Orleans, is +yet wanting, to afford the public a full comprehension of all the +attendant circumstances, respecting which there appears to have been +some misunderstanding. The daring exploit of running by the forts must +be recorded as another evidence of the historic valor and coolness of +the American navy. No less renown will attach in future times to the +bombardment of the forts by the mortar fleet, conducted as it was +entirely on scientific principles, and proving the efficiency of +mortars, when used with discretion and with a knowledge of the +localities. The great destruction in the forts was only fully +ascertained after the surrender, and shows that the success of the +fleet, in passing them safely, depended, in a great measure, upon the +inability of greater resistance on the part of Fort Jackson.</p> + +<p>A number of vessels, comprising the 'Western Gulf Squadron,' were +commanded by comparatively young officers, and that very important +branch of the same, the mortar flotilla, was mostly under the individual +guidance of captains (acting masters) selected from the merchant marine. +It became necessary for the navy department to select a +commander-in-chief (flag officer) and a commander for the mortar +flotilla, possessed of such qualities as to manage and render effective +the various branches of this peculiar combination of armed vessels, as +well as to inspire confidence and give satisfaction to their respective +commands.</p> + +<p>The appointment of Captain David G. Farragut as flag officer of the +squadron, was acknowledged as a judicious one. He was popular in his +fleet, and has realized the expectations of the country. His personal +bravery was demonstrated during the hazardous passage of the +forts—while his ship was enveloped in flames, kindled from an opposing +fire raft—by his dashing attack on the Chalmette forts near New +Orleans, and his speedy reduction of the city.</p> + +<p>The choice of a suitable commander for the mortar flotilla was less +difficult, inasmuch as this little fleet was a creation of the officer +who was chosen as its leader. David D. Porter, for gallantry and +ingenuity, for theoretical and practical seamanship, and for general +popularity among the officers of his own rank and date, has no superior +in the navy, and his appointment to this command was truly fortunate.</p> + +<p>The squadron, after having rendezvoused at Key West and Ship Island, +arrived without any material detention, at the South West Pass of the +Mississippi. A want of acquaintance with the changes in the bar, +occasioned probably by the sinking of four or five rafts, flatboats, and +an old dry dock by the enemy, resulted in some delays, but the whole +squadron at length, with the exception of the frigate Colorado, got +safely over, and anchored twelve miles up the river at the head of the +passes.</p> + +<p>The efficiency of mortars, elevated permanently at forty-five degrees, +depends chiefly upon an accurate knowledge of the distance to the object +to be fired upon. This distance determines the quantity of powder +necessary for the discharge, and the length of the fuses to be employed. +Captain Porter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span> understood the impossibility of judging and estimating +distances and bearings correctly, particularly when the objects are for +the most part hidden from view, as was the case with the forts on the +wooded and crooked Mississippi, and had therefore requested of the +department the aid of a party from the U. S. coast survey, and the writer +of these notes had been detailed by Prof. A. D. Bache, the +superintendent of that work. One acting assistant, two sub-assistants, +and one aid were attached to the party, and the steam gunboat Sachem was +placed at their disposal. This vessel arrived in the Mississippi on the +11th of April. Captain Porter at once requested Mr. Gerdes to furnish a +reliable survey of several miles of the river, below and including the +fortifications. In this service a number of gunboats belonging to the +fleet and to the mortar flotilla accompanied the Sachem, partly to +afford protection, and partly to draw the enemy's attention from the +operations of the surveyors. Mr. Gerdes commenced work with his party on +the 13th of April, and continuing for five consecutive days, made a +reliable map of the river and its shores from the 'Jump' to and +including Forts Jackson and St. Philip, with their outworks and water +batteries; the hulks, supporting the chain across the river, and every +singular and distinguishable object along its banks. The survey was made +by triangulation carried forward simultaneously on both sides of the +river. Two coast survey signals were found, the 'Jump telegraph post,' +and 'Salt-work's chimney top,' of which the geodetic relations were +known, and the work was founded upon a base line connecting these two +points. Sub-assistant Oltmanns, and Mr. Bowie as aid, were detailed for +the west shore, Mr. Gerdes and acting assistant Harris taking the +eastern side, while sub-assistant Halter observed angles from permanent +stations. The angular measurements were made with all kinds of +instruments found suitable to the locality. Only a few of the stations +were on solid ground, nearly all the shore being overflowed. Frequently +the members of the party were compelled to mount their instruments on +the chimney tops of dilapidated houses. In other places boats were run +under overhanging trees on the shore, in which signal flags were +hoisted, and the angles measured below with sextants. It was very +satisfactory, however, that the last measurement determined (leading to +the flagstaff on St. Philip) agreed almost identically with the location +given by the coast survey several years ago. It seemed to be a regular +occupation of the garrison in the fort, to destroy, during the +night-time, the marks and signals which were left daily by the party; +and for this reason, Mr. Gerdes caused numbered posts to be set in the +river banks, and screened with grass and reeds so that they could not be +found by the enemy in the dark. From these marks, which were separately +determined, he was enabled to furnish to Captain Porter the distances +and bearings, from almost any point on the river to the forts, and by +the resulting data the commander selected the positions for his mortar +vessels.</p> + +<p>On the 17th day of April the mortar schooners were moved to their +designated positions, and the exact distances and bearings of each +vessel being ascertained from the map, were furnished to the respective +captains. Then the bombardment fairly commenced, and was continued, with +only slight intermission, for six days. Twice Captain Porter ordered +some of the vessels to change their positions when he found localities +that would answer better; the coast survey party furnished the new data +required. From the schooners, which were fastened to the trees on the +riverside, none of the works of the enemy were visible, but the exact +station of each vessel and its distance and bearings from the forts had +been ascertained from the chart. The mortars<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span> were accordingly charged +and pointed and the fuses regulated. Thus the bombardment was conducted +entirely upon theoretical principles, and as such with its results, +presents perhaps a new feature in naval warfare. When the whole number +of shells discharged from the flotilla is compared with those that fell +and left their marks on the dry parts of Fort Jackson (to which must be +added, in the same ratio, all those falling in the submerged parts), the +precision of the firing appears truly remarkable, and must command our +highest admiration, particularly when we consider that every shot was +fired upon a <i>computed</i> aim.</p> + +<p>During the days of the bombardment, the exact damage done to the forts +could not be ascertained. A deserter from the garrison came to the fleet +and stated that Jackson was a complete wreck, but his information was +considered rather doubtful. After six days' firing, when the forts +showed no disposition to surrender, and when our stock of ammunition was +considerably reduced, Captain Porter submitted to the flag officer a +plan for passing with the fleet between the forts. The order to pass the +forts was given on the 23d of April, and a favorable reference in this +order was made to Captain Porter's plan. On the morning of the 24th of +April, at three o'clock, the fleet got under weigh. The steam gunboats +of the flotilla ran up close to the western fort and engaged the water +battery and the rampart guns, and from the mortar vessels a shower of +shells was thrown into the besieged work. This bombardment made it +impossible for the leaders of the enemy to keep their men on the +ramparts. Three times they broke, although they were twice driven back +to their guns at the point of the bayonet. From Fort St. Philip a much +greater resistance was offered to the ships in their passage up between +the works, as that fort had not been (comparatively speaking) so +effectively attacked, nor had it suffered previously nearly so much as +the other from the mortars of Captain Porter. That the resistance of +Jackson was much slighter on this occasion, is further demonstrated, by +the fact, that our ships received little injury from the port side (Fort +Jackson), while nearly all the shot holes were found to be on the +starboard, the Fort Philip side.</p> + +<p>After the fleet had thus passed the stronghold of the enemy, and +destroyed ten or twelve of his armed steamers, the famous ram 'Manassas' +among them, Captain Farragut gallantly ascended the river, took and +occupied the quarantine, where he paroled the garrison, and then +continued his course for New Orleans. In the mean time, it had been +ascertained, that the iron-clad battery Louisiana, fourteen guns, and +two or three other armed steamers of the enemy were still unharmed near +the forts, and it appeared therefore precarious, for Captain Porter to +remain with his mortar schooners (all sailing vessels) quite unprotected +and liable to momentary attack from such overpowering structures. He +consequently despatched them to the gulf, to watch and cut off in the +rear all communication with the forts, while he remained with the few +steam gunboats of the flotilla, at the station occupied during the +bombardment. The Sachem, commanded by Mr. Gerdes, he had sent east of +Fort St. Philip, to aid Major-General Butler in landing troops by the +back bayou, leading to the quarantine. This duty was successfully +executed by the coast survey party. They sounded the channel, and buoyed +it out with lamps, and thus facilitated the landing of about one +thousand five hundred soldiers during the night in boats and launches of +the transports.</p> + +<p>By this time, flag officer Admiral Farragut had successfully silenced +the extensive batteries of Chalmette, and finally appeared with his +fleet before New Orleans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span></p> + +<p> +List of the Mortar Flotilla, attached to the +Western Gulf Squadron, under the command +of Com. <span class="smcap">D. D. Porter.</span></p> + + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Details of the Mortar Flotilla"> +<tr><th colspan="2">STEAMERS.</th></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="2">STEAMER DIVISION.</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Harriet Lane</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. J. M. Wainwright.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td align='left'>Flagship of Com. D. D. Porter.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Westfield</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. W. B. Renshaw.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Owasco</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. J. Guest.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Clifton</i>,</td><td align='left'>Act. Lt. Com. Charles Baldwin.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Jackson</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. S. E. Woodsworth.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Miami</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. A. D. Harrel.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Sachem</i>,</td><td align='left'>Ass't. Coast Survey, F. H. Gerdes.</td></tr> +</table> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Details of the Mortar Flotilla"> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3">MORTAR VESSELS.</th></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3">FIRST DIVISION</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Norfolk Packet</i>,</td><td align='center'>Schooner,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. W. Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Oliver H. Lee</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. Mas. W. Godfrey.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Para</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. E. G. Furber.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>C. P. Williams</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. A. R. Langthorn.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Arletta</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. T. E. Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>W. Bacon</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. W. P. Rogers.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Sophronia</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. L. Bartholomew.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3">SECOND DIVISION</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>T. A. Ward</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. W. W. Queen.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>M. J. Carlton</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. Mas. Charles E. Jack.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Mathew Vasser</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. H. H. Savage.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>George Mangham</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. J. Collins.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Orvetta</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. F. C. Blanchard.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>S. C. Jones</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. J. D. Graham.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3">THIRD DIVISION</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>John Griffith</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. H. Brown.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Sarah Bruen</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. A. Christian.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Racer</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. A. Phinney.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Sea Foam</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. H. E. Williams.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Henry James</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. L. W. Pennington.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Dan Smith</i>,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>Act. G. W. Brown.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Horace Beal</i>,</td><td align='center'>Bark,</td><td align='left'>Act. G. W. Summer.</td></tr> +</table> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Details of the Mortar Flotilla"> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The First Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Second Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. W. Queen.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Third Division Commanded by Lt. Com. K. R. Breese.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Steamer Division Commanded by Com. W. B. Renshaw.</td></tr> +</table> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">List</span> of Vessels and Officers commanding +them, that passed up the river:</p></blockquote> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Details of the Mortar Flotilla"> +<tr><th colspan="2"><span class="smcap">First Division, Capt. T. Baily</span>, Commanding.</th></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Cayuga</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. N. B. Harrison.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Pensacola</i>,</td><td align='left'>Capt. Henry W. Morris.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Mississippi</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. M. Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Oneida</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. S. P. Lee.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Varuna</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. Charles S. Boggs.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Katahdin</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. G. H. Preble.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Wissahickon</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. A. N. Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Second Division, Fleet Captain H. H. Bell</span>, Commanding.</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Hartford</i>,</td><td align='left'>Capt. R. Wainwright.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Brooklyn</i>,</td><td align='left'>Capt. Thomas T. Craven.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Richmond</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. James Alden.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Sciota</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. E. Donaldson.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Iroquois</i>,</td><td align='left'>Com. John De Camp.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Pinola</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. P. Crosby.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Winona</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. Edward T. Nichols.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Itasca</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. C. H. B. Caldwell.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Kennebec</i>,</td><td align='left'>Lt. Com. J. H. Russell.</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p>When this fact became known to General J. K. Duncan, he accepted terms +for the surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip to Commodore Porter. +While negotiations were progressing on board the 'Harriet Lane,' between +our own and the confederate officers, (that vessel, and the Westfield, +Clifton, Jackson, and Owasco, were at anchor between the two forts, each +carrying a large white flag at the masthead,) the leaders of the enemy's +marine forces set fire to the iron-clad battery Louisiana, cast her +loose, and sent her adrift straight for our fleet. This dishonorable act +on the part of the enemy during a time of truce, and while their own +officers were in consultation with the commander of our forces, on board +of a United States vessel, might have resulted in a very serious +disaster to us, had not the magazine of the Louisiana exploded before +she reached the fleet, which it did in full view of our vessels, and not +far off. This explosion was succeeded by a crash, presenting a scene +such as has been rarely witnessed. After this fearful episode, the +capitulation was concluded, and both the forts, the garrison, the +armament, ammunition, stock, and provisions, were formally surrendered +to Commander Porter, of the mortar flotilla, and transferred by him, on +the next day, to Major-General Butler, commanding the United States army +in the Department of the Gulf.</p> + +<p>Many contradictory opinions existed regarding the actual damage +inflicted by the bombardment, as well as by the broadside fire of the +passing fleet; and, Captain Porter desired Mr. Gerdes to make such a +survey of Fort Jackson, as would settle all doubts touching the matter +in question. Under his supervision, Acting Assistant Harris, aided by +the other members of his party, traced in their corresponding places on +the large existing detailed plan of the fort, all the injuries arising +from the attack. Every hole in the ground, (whether caused by the mortar +shells or round shot,) break in the walls, crack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span> in the masonry, each +gun dismantled or disabled, the burnt citadel, the hospital and +outbuildings, the destroyed bridges and injured magazines, were noted by +actual measurement.</p> + +<p>The levees, which before the attack had kept the high water of the +Mississippi from entering the fort, were found destroyed in numerous +places by bomb-shells. Much of the area of the fort was in consequence +overflowed. The number of balls and shells which fell in the inundated +parts, was estimated from the proportion found in the dry parts. In the +plan, the submerged parts were distinctly marked, and it plainly shows, +that hardly one quarter of the whole area remained dry or above the +level of the water.</p> + +<p>From this survey the following statistics are gathered:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Details of the Mortar Flotilla"> +<tr><td align='left'>1. Number of 13 in. shells fired</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>from the mortar flotilla that fell</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>on solid ground</td><td align='right'>1,113</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>2. Number of shells purposely</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>exploded over the forts</td><td align='right'>1,080</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>3. Number of shells that fell in</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>overflowed ground (computed)</td><td align='right'>3,339</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>4. Number of round shot visible</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>on dry ground fired from the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>fleet and the gunboat of the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>flotilla</td><td align='right'>87</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>5. Number of round shot that</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>fell on overflowed ground</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>(computed)</td><td align='right'>261</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>6. The total destruction of the citadel</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>of the forts, of the hospitals, the outbuildings,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>the magazines, the bridges,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>and of thirteen scows for use in the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>moat.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>7. The very severe injury to the ramparts,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>particularly on the northwest side</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>to the casemates, all along the front,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>(which were cracked from end to end,)</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>to the levees, which were completely</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>riddled, and to the works in general.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The demolition was so great, that the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>shell holes in the ground left hardly</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>anywhere a free passage for walking.</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p>It is further ascertained from this survey, that the armament of the +fort consisted of fifty 32-pounders, seven columbiads, ten short guns, +three rifle guns, two brass field pieces, and three mortars, in all +seventy-five guns.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The following are extracts from Mr. Harris' report to Assistant Gerdes, +accompanying the plan, which was published by the Navy Department:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'My informant, (an intelligent and reliable eyewitness,) +voluntarily gave the credit of reducing the forts to the bomb +fleet. The fort was so much shaken by this firing, that it was +feared the casemates would come down about their ears. The loss of +life by the bombs was not great, as they could see them coming +plainly, and avoid them, but the effect of their fall and explosion +no skill could avert.</p> + +<p>'About one shell in twenty failed to explode; even those that fell +in the water going off. It is worth noticing, that the bombs that +fell in the ditches close to the walls of the fort and exploded +there, shook the fort much more severely, than any of those that +buried themselves in the soft ground.</p> + +<p>'The fort was in perfect order when the bombardment commenced, the +dirt which now disfigures everything is the accumulation of a few +days. The water did not enter the fort until the levee had been +broken by the bombs; during the summer of 1861, when the +Mississippi was even higher, the parade ground remained entirely +dry.'</p></div> + +<p>The above statistics and information show, that the surrender of the +forts was caused by the terrific bombardment of the mortar fleet, a fact +which should always remain identified with the brilliant achievements, +that ended in the recapture of the second commercial city of our +country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="REASON_RHYME_AND_RHYTHM" id="REASON_RHYME_AND_RHYTHM"></a>REASON, RHYME, AND RHYTHM.</h2> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All arts are one, howe'er distributed they stand,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Verse, tone, shape, color, form, are fingers on one hand.'</span><br /> +</p> + + +<h3>INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME FIRST.</h3> + +<p>The first volume of this work contains an inquiry into the principles of +art, and an attempt to present a rational solution of the delight felt +in the contemplation of Beauty. The related thoughts upon art and +beauty, found scattered almost at random over so many pages, and in so +many different tongues, have been brought together, and, closely linked +in logical sequences, placed in such connections that they now mutually +illustrate and corroborate one another. No longer drifting apart in the +bewildering chaos of multitudinous pages, they now revolve round a +common centre, the heart of all artistic beauty, through whose +manifestations alone it gains its power to charm the human soul: viz., +'the infinite attributes of the Author of all true Beauty.'</p> + +<p>These thoughts on Art and Beauty have been carefully compiled, +condensed, and arranged from many writers of eminence: Tissandier, +Ruskin, Schlegel, etc., etc.; and are interwoven with much original +matter, placing their great truths in new relations, and developing +their complex meanings. By working up <i>with them</i> the thoughts suggested +<i>by them</i>, the author has sedulously endeavored to form them into a +whole of higher power.</p> + +<p>The first volume being devoted to the theory of art, an attempt has been +made in the second to bring the more general thoughts to a focus, and +concentrate their light upon the vexed and confused subject of +versification. The second volume may indeed be considered as a 'Manual +of Rhythm,' for the most <i>practical</i> rules are given for its +construction and criticism, and simple and natural solutions offered of +its apparent irregularities and anomalies; while examples of sufficient +length are cited from our most musical poets to give just ideas of the +characteristics and power of all the measures in use in English +versification.</p> + +<p>That the book may prove useful to the reader, is the earnest wish of the +author!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h4>LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO EUGENE B. COOK.</h4> + +<p>When the busy little sailor bird builds himself a nest in which he—with +his mate and their tiny brood—may swing secure through the sudden +storms of fitful springs, and find shelter from the heats of summer, +sewing it so tightly together that the rain cannot permeate it, nor the +wild winds waft away the light beams and rafters of the swinging home, +we do not quarrel with the little architect because he has industriously +gleaned such materials as were needed for his purpose, because he has +torn his leaves from the great forest book of nature. The leaves are +freely given by God, and the little builder has a natural right to play +the artist with them, if he can succeed in forming them into a <i>new +whole</i>, fitted for the maintenance of a higher order of life. Thus the +thoughts of great men are the common heritage of humanity.</p> + +<p>Or, when we eat of the fragrant honey, we do not quarrel with the thymy +bees because they have blended for us the sweets of Hybla. The flowers +from which they were drawn are lovely and perfumed as before, but the +workers have made from them a <i>new whole</i>, in which the pilfered sweets +have gained a higher value from their perfect union. Those who prefer +the dewy juice as it exists in the plant, may use<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span> their own powers to +extract it, for the bee has not injured the flowers, and they may still +be found blooming in the keen mountain air; but let those who may not +scale the heights, nor work the strange transmutation, who yet love the +fragrant honey, eat—blessing the little artist for his waxen cells and +winged labor.</p> + +<p>Who would quarrel with a friend because he had roamed through many a +clime to find flowers for a wreath woven for our pleasure? Virgin Lilies +from the still lakes of Wordsworth, Evergreens from the labyrinthine +forests of Schlegel, Palm from the holy hills of Tissandier, Amaranth +with the breath of angels fresh upon it from the Paradise groves of +Ruskin, interwoven with Passion Flowers and Anemones of his own +wilds,—shall we not acknowledge our wreath as a new whole, seeing that +the isolated fractions are raised to a higher power in becoming +essential parts of a new unity?</p> + +<p>Eugene, the wreath of Lilies, Evergreen, Palm, and Amaranth—the honey +of Hybla—the many-leaved nest of the little architect, in which you may +swing through the storms of the finite, into the deep and cloudless blue +of the infinite,—are now before you!</p> + +<p>Will you not look up from the fleshless and skeleton perfection of the +problemed forms, which start at your slightest touch from the formal +squares of the chess board,—forms which confuse me with their +complexity, bewilder me in the mazes of their ceaseless combinations, +dazzle me with their chill erudition, and appal me with want of +life,—and smile acceptance on the glowing gifts here lovingly tendered +you?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3><a name="CONTENTS_VOLI" id="CONTENTS_VOLI"></a>CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.</h3> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents of volume First"> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. I,</td><td align='left'><i>Beauty</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. II,</td><td align='left'><i>The Soul of Art</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. III,</td><td align='left'><i>The Infinite</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. IV,</td><td align='left'><i>Unity</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. V,</td><td align='left'><i>Order, Symmetry, and Proportion</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. VI,</td><td align='left'><i>Truth and Love</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAP. VII,</td><td align='left'><i>The Artist and his Realm—The Ideal</i>.</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3><a name="BEAUTY" id="BEAUTY"></a>BEAUTY</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'The awful shadow of some unknown Power</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Floats, though unseen, among us, visiting</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This various world with as inconstant wing</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As summer winds that creep from flower to flower.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 19.5em;"><span class="smcap">Shelley</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>A philosophical theory of poetry and the fine arts should consider, in +the first place, the fundamental and general laws of Beauty; in the +second place, analyze the faculties necessary for the perception or +creation of the Beautiful; and, in the last place, should strive to +account for the pleasure always experienced in its contemplation. Such +an analysis is necessary, as an introductory study, to the full and +complete comprehension of any specific branch of art.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, every specific art has its own special theory, +designed to teach the limits of its means, and the difficulties peculiar +to the medium through which it is to manifest the Beautiful, with the +various rules by which it must be regulated in its realization of the +fundamental laws of Beauty.</p> + +<p>A clear, deep, and comprehensive view of the origin and nature of the +Fine Arts, is the work most needed by the readers and thinkers of the +present century. Some noble attempts have indeed been made in this +direction, but, valuable as such essays may be, they do not yet +correspond to the growing, requisitions of the public mind. It is true +such a work would be one of great difficulty, exacting immense stores of +information, and highly cultivated tastes. The writer must possess the +logical power requisite for the most subtle analyses; he must have the +<i>creative</i> genius to combine the scattered facts of natural beauty, with +their varied effects upon the human consciousness, into one great whole; +while, at the same time, the tenderness and susceptibility of the +<i>receptive</i> genius must be equally developed in him. He should blend the +loving and devout soul of a Fra Angelico with the logical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span> acumen of a +Bacon. How seldom is the creative genius sufficiently tender and humble +to be, in the full sense of the term, at the same time, <i>receptive</i>!</p> + +<p>After its treatment of the philosophical theory of Art, such a work +should also throw its light upon the special theories, and more general +rules of specific arts; for such rules, when true, are never arbitrary, +but spring from the fundamental laws, of universal Beauty. They are but +the external manifestation, through material mediums, of eternal laws.</p> + +<p>The compiler of the present article can offer no such great work to the +reader. An earnest effort will however be made to bring together the +related thoughts upon Art and Beauty. They are found scattered almost at +random over so many pages; to link them together by arranging them in +their logical sequences, placing them so that they will illustrate and +mutually corroborate one another: and, working up with them the thoughts +suggested by them, the author has labored to form of them a compact and +easily perused <i>whole.</i> For the ideas selected are <i>essentially +related</i>, and, scattered as they may have hitherto been, naturally +gravitate round a common centre. No longer drifting apart through the +chaos of multitudinous pages, they are now formed into a system of +order, a galaxy of which the central sun is—the Divine attributes as +manifested through the Beautiful.</p> + +<p>If the writer shall succeed in suggesting to some lucid and +comprehensive mind the fact that a noble field for the culture of the +human heart and soul remains almost unexplored, and induce one worthy of +the task to undertake its cultivation; or if her humble work shall +induce one lover of pure art to direct his attention to the glorious +promises which it reveals to him of a closer communion with the Great +Artist, the beneficent Creator of the Beautiful—she will feel herself +more than compensated for her 'pleasant labor of love.'</p> + +<p>All true art is symbolic; a thought, an idea, must always constitute the +significance, the soul of its outward form. The mere delusive +imitations, the servile copyings of the actual shapes of reality, are +not the proper objects of art. To form a master work of art, the idea +symbolized must be pure and noble; the technical execution, faultless. +No heavier censure can, however, be passed upon an artist, than that he +possesses only the technic or rhetoric of art, without having penetrated +to its subtle essence of forming thought.</p> + +<p>Man is chiefly taught through <i>symbolism</i>. Living in a symbolic world of +sensuous emblems, he seeks in them a substitute for the wondrous powers +of immediate cognition which he lost in his fall. His highest +destination is <i>symbolical</i>, for is he not made in the Divine image? +Through the symbolism of the matter is the soul taught its first lessons +in the school of life: when it is known and felt that nature is but the +symbol of the Great Spirit, the instinct of our own immortality awakes. +In the Old Covenant, the twilight of faith was studded with the starry +splendor of a marvellous symbolism; and the new era of the ascending and +ever-brightening dawn still bears on its front the glittering morning +star of symbolic Christian art.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding its earthly intermixture, however it may have wandered +from its true source, however sensuous and worthless it may have become, +art, in its essence, is still divine. Men devoted to the pursuit of mere +material well being, have been too long in the habit of regarding poetry +and the arts as mere recreations, to be taken up at spare moments, +pursued when we have nothing better to do; as a relief for the ennui of +idleness, or an ornament for the centre table; without remembering how +many good and great men have given up their whole lives to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span> its +advancement; without considering into how many hearts it has borne its +soothing lessons of faith and love.</p> + +<p>Men look upon art as if it were to be pursued merely for the sake of +art, for the egotistic pleasure of the artist, and not as a moral power +full of responsibility and dignity. We might as well suppose that +science is to be pursued merely for the sake of science, that we are to +think only that we may think. But while everything has its determinate +end in the lower world of matter, concurring in its degree to the life +of the whole; can there exist faculties and tendencies without aim in +the soul; permanent, regular, and general facts without a final cause? +Can art exist as an accidental fact in the bosom of society? Is it not +rather an important means for the development of the finer feelings of +the heart, the higher faculties of the soul?</p> + +<p>Man was created 'to glorify God and enjoy him forever,' says the +elementary catechism of the sternest of all creeds. Anything, therefore, +which sets before us more preëminently the glory of God, thus placing +more vividly before us the only source of all true enjoyment, must be, +in the highest sense of the word, useful to us, as enabling us to fulfil +the very end of our creation. Things that only help us to draw material +breath, are only useful to us in a secondary sense: if they alone are +thought of, they are worse than useless; for it would be better we +should not exist at all, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of our existence. Yet men in this material age speak as if +houses and lands, food and raiment, were alone useful; as if the open +eye and loving appreciation of all that He hath made were quite +profitless; as if the meat were more than the life, the raiment than the +body. They look upon the earth as a stable, its fruit as mere fodder, +loving the corn they grind and the grapes they crush better than the +gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden, so that the woe of the +Preacher has fallen upon us: 'Though God has made everything beautiful +in his time, also He hath set the world in their heart, so that no man +can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.'</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">'The age culls simples.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With a broad clown's back turned broadly to the glory of the stars;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We are gods by our own reck'ning, and may well shut up our temples—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And wield on, amid the incense steam, the thunder of our cars.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'For we throw out acclamations of self-thanking, self-admiring,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With, at every mile run faster, 'Oh, the wondrous, wondrous age,'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little thinking if we work our souls as nobly as our iron,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or if angels will commend us at the goal of pilgrimage.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Utility has a nobler sense than a mere ministering to our physical +wants, a mere catering to our sense of luxury. Geology is surely higher +when refleshing the dry bones and revealing to us the mysteries of a +lost creation, than when tracing veins of lead and beds of iron; +astronomy, when opening the houses of heaven for us, than when teaching +us the laws of navigation. That these things are useful to us in a lower +sense, is God's merciful condescension to the wants of our material +life;—that we may discern their eternal beauty, and so glorify their +Maker in the enjoyment of His attributes, is an earnest, even here, of +our blissful immortality.</p> + +<p>If art has frequently fallen from its high mission, if it has often +failed to incarnate the divine ideas from which all its glories must +flow, it must be attributed in part to the artists themselves; in part +to the public for whom they labor, and whom they too often seek only to +amuse. They clutch at the ephemeral bouquets of the passing passions of +a day, not caring to wait for the unfading crowns of amaranth. If the +artist will stoop to linger in the Circean hall of the senses, he must +not be astonished if good and earnest men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span> should reproach him with the +triviality of a misspent and egotistic life.</p> + +<p>If we should pause and examine into the reasons for the different +estimation in which art is held by different persons, we should find +them in the various definitions of the Beautiful which would be offered +us by the individuals in question. Let us linger for a moment to examine +such definitions.</p> + +<p>One class of men would tell us that the Beautiful is that which is +agreeable to the senses of sight and hearing. They would admire, in +painting, the delineation of naked flesh, luxuriant as it glows upon the +canvas of Vandyke and Rubens; in statuary, they would seek voluptuous +and sensual positions; while in music, they would love that which +titillates the ear, which lulls them into an indolent yet delicious +languor. Such men are the dwellers in the halls of Circean senses; they +can appreciate only the sensuous. The poets of this class are very +numerous. They never rise to those general ideas which are found in the +universal consciousness, but are forever occupied with fugitive +thoughts, passing as the hour in which they are born. They delight in +representing the <i>accidental</i>, the exceptional, the peculiar, the +fashion, mode, or exaggeration of the flying hour. They never sing of +the high and tender feelings which pervade the human heart; of the joys +and sorrows of the soul in its mystic relations with God, its +sympathetic affections with humanity; but delight in describing furtive +sensations, passing impressions, individual and subjective bliss and +woe. Never daring to grapple with the sublime yet tender simplicity of +nature, they sport with eccentricity, delight in fantastically related +ideas, revel in surprises, in sudden and unforeseen developments. Their +style is full of individualities and mannerisms, ornaments and +intricacies; the <i>coloring</i> is always worth more than the <i>form</i>, the +sensation than the idea. Their heroes and heroines are grotesque beings, +sentimental caricatures, souls not to be comprehended, always placed in +unnatural situations, and surrounded with dark, gloomy, and impenetrable +mysteries. If their readers can be made to exclaim at every page: +'Inconceivable! astonishing! original!' they consider their work +perfect. Such poets seldom attempt long poems; if they should +imprudently do so, we find but little sequence, and nothing of that +clear order, of that marvellous <i>unity</i>, which mark the works of the +masters. Everything is sought to flatter that pretentious vanity of the +limited understanding which piques itself on its stereotyped knowledge, +always striving to usurp the higher empire of the divining soul. Such +writing certainly requires subtlety of intellect, for talent is required +to discover that which no one can see; to invent relations where none +exist. We may, indeed, often observe great perfection in the details, +high finish in the execution, keen intellect in the analysis; but +nothing in the thoughts which appeals to the universal heart. Brilliant +pictures succeed to brilliant pictures, decoration to decoration, but +there is an utter want of essential unity. Absorbed in the sensuous +gorgeousness of highly colored details, if they can but glue together +startling and overwrought images, they are satisfied, even while +neglecting the principal idea. They seize everything by the outside; +nothing by the heart.</p> + +<p>The painters of this class give us glaring colors and violent contrasts; +the musicians, antitheses, concetti, ingenious combinations, <i>tours de +force</i>, rather than flowing melodies or profound harmonies. The power +they <i>wish</i>, to possess spoils that they <i>really have</i>; all <i>true</i> +inspiration abandons the hopeless artist in the midst of his ingenious +subtleties; it flies before his fantastic conceits; laughs at the +follies of his prurient fancies; and withdraws its solemn light from the +vain and presumptuous intellect, doting ever over its own fancied +superiority. Inspira<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span>tion, that holy light only vouchsafed to the loving +soul, speaks to man in the silence of the subjective intellect. If the +heart is tossed by a thousand passing and selfish passions, how can its +solemn but simple and tender voice be heard? Suffering such inflated +spirits to plume themselves upon the transitory admiration they are +always sure of obtaining, it allows them to take the evil for the good; +the grotesque for the beautiful; the meteors of vanity for the heaven +stars of truth.</p> + +<p>Such artists love not the mighty arches of gothic architecture, in whose +vast curves and dim recesses lurks the mystic idea of the infinite; they +take no interest in the ascetic faces which the old masters loved to +picture, worn into deep furrows of care by penitence and holy sorrow, +though lighted with the triple ray of Faith, Hope, and Love. They have +no sympathies with the saints and heroes who have been great through +self-abnegation, for such lives are a constant reproach to their own +sybaritical tendencies. Constantly mistaking the effervescence of +passion for the fire of genius; viewing the sublime realities of +religion only as fantastic dreams; seeing nothing but the gloom of the +grave beyond the fleeting shadows of the present life; granting reality +to nothing but that which is essentially variable, phenomenal, and +contingent; forever revelling in the luxuriousness of mere +sensation—they understand only that which can be seen and handled. But +the devotion to the True in art is a disinterested worship—a worship +requiring the most heroic self—abnegation; for the love of fame, of +self, of pleasure, will so bewilder and confuse the artist, that he will +never be able to sound the depths of any art. And now, can we wonder if +pure and earnest men utterly refuse to acknowledge the dignity and worth +of art, when manifested to them through the works of fantastically +sensuous, or voluptuously sensual artists? This misconception of the +true aim of art, of the meaning of the Beautiful—with its natural +consequence, merely sensuous manifestations of Beauty through the medium +of different arts—has been one of the causes of the violent and +inveterate prejudices which have arisen against art itself in the minds +of many good men; and, were this view of beauty and art the true one, we +could not deny that such prejudices or opinions would be but too well +founded. To combat such debasing and false views of the aims of art, +will be the chief object of the present volume. If art were to be +degraded into the servant and minister of the senses, we would be among +the first to condemn it. But all Beauty proceeds from the All Fair, who +hath pronounced all 'good,' and 'loveth all that He hath made.'</p> + +<p>Leaving the 'men of the senses' in their Circean sleep, we proceed to +question the 'men of the schools' with regard to their conception of +art, their definition of the Beautiful. Erudite as they may be, their +response to our question is scarcely more satisfactory. The Beautiful, +in their estimation, is but the realization of <i>known rules</i>, fixed and +sanctioned by long usage. Such men are the connoisseurs in art, the +students of manuals, who are familiar with all the acknowledged <i>chefs +d'œuvre</i>, and all the possible resources of art; they have traced for +genius itself the path in which it must walk, and will accept none as +true artists who wander from it. They are not ashamed to take a poet +such as Shakespeare, to compare his wonderful creations with the rules +they have acquired with so much labor, and, seeking in his living dramas +only the application of the principles with which <i>they</i> are familiar, +scruple not to condemn the immortal works of the greatest of all +uninspired writers. Madame de Staël truly says: 'Those who believe +themselves qualified to pronounce sentence upon the Beautiful, have more +vanity than those who believe they possess genius.' Taste in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span> the fine +arts, like fashion in society, is indeed considered as a proof of +<i>haut-ton</i>, a claim to fashionable and personal distinction. +Should a man of the most cultivated mind and soul, venture to pronounce a +judgment upon the character of some great architectural work, +without being versed in the terms and technics of scientific +architecture—remark with what profound contempt his opinion on its +effect will be received by the pompous men of the schools! Or, let him +venture to take pleasure in a musical composition not approved by the +musical savants, in which they have detected various crimes against the +laws of harmony, the fixed rules of counter point—and behold the men of +the schools, how they will shrug their classic shoulders in contempt at +his name and besotted ignorance! Or, should he venture to delight in the +original and naive lyrics of some untaught bard of nature, without being +able to justify his admiration by learned citations from Virgil and +Horace, to say nothing of the categories of Aristotle—he is considered +as an ignoramus, who might possibly impose upon those ignorant as +himself, but who should at least have the modesty to yield up at once +his opinion to the conclusive decisions of the great literary pundits! +In vain may he assert that such and such a passage is touching and +noble; in vain, may he say it has appealed to his inmost soul, and +awakened deep and holy emotions, that it has made him a better man;—the +same wise shrug of contempt greets him; he is told 'such effects are +impossible, for the work in question offends a fixed rule!'</p> + +<p>Yet what great diversity of opinion obtains among the very band of +self-constituted elect! How few possess the requisite mastery of the +rules, and what an immense number of the human race would thus be +excluded from the elevating sources of enjoyment to be found in poetry +and the fine arts! Such scholastic critics confound two things to be +distinguished in every work in all branches of art; viz., the <i>pure +idea</i>, and the <i>material form</i> through which it is manifested. It is +indeed necessary that the artist should make severe studies, and +thoroughly master the technics of his chosen art, whatever it may be; +for, as means to facilitate the clearest manifestation of his +conceptions, such formulæ are of immense importance;—but an erudite +acquaintance with the technics of art is not necessary for the +comprehension of the <i>idea</i>, manifested; for the <i>idea</i> itself is ever +within the range of the human intellect, and the soul may always +consider the thought of the soul, when appropriately manifested, <i>face +to face</i>. 'Imbibe not your opinions from professional artists,' says +Diderot; 'they always prefer the difficult to the beautiful!'</p> + +<p>Artistic judgment is, indeed, too apt to be satisfied with correct +drawing and harmony of colors; harmony and keeping of plastic forms; +harmony of tones; harmony of thoughts in relation to one another; +without considering that to these necessary harmonies two more, +primarily essential, must be added: harmony of thought with the eternal, +with the divine attributes of truth, infinity, unity, and love; and +harmony of expression with what ought to be—which is indeed to assert +that true Beauty is neither sensuous nor scholastic, but vitally and +essentially moral. True Beauty lingers not in the soft halls of the +Circean senses; it wanders not in the trim paths, beaten walks, or dusty +highways of the schools, though the artist must indeed be familiar with +all the intricacies of their windings, that he may there master the laws +and proportions of the form through which he is to manifest the supernal +essence through our senses to our souls; it dwells above, too high to be +degraded by our low sensualism, too ethereal to lose its sweet freedom +in the logically woven links of our scholastic trammels. 'Ye shall know +the <i>truth</i>, and it shall make you free,' is a proposition not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span> only of +moral, but of universal artistic application.</p> + +<p>Disgusted by the idle pretensions and stilted pedantry of the men of the +schools, can we wonder if good and earnest men still refuse to +acknowledge the high worth and dignity of art, which, in accordance with +such definitions, would be nothing but a manifestation and studied +application of the rules and laws of the limited and pedantic human +understanding? To prove art essentially <i>moral</i>, in exact correspondence +with the triune being of man addressing itself <i>through</i> his senses, in +accordance with the requisitions of his understanding, <i>to</i> his +soul—and that it is only delightful to the soul created for the +enjoyment of God, in so far as it is successful in manifesting or +suggesting some portion of the Divine attributes—are the chief objects +of the book here offered to the reader. If art were indeed to be +degraded into nothing higher than the exponent or incarnation of the +logical data and rigid formulæ of the limited understanding of man, the +writer would be frozen to death in the attempt to plant its chilling +banner. She too would regard it but as a solemn trifling with time and +the fearful responsibilities of eternity.</p> + +<p>Having failed to obtain any elevated or satisfactory definition of Art +and Beauty from the men of the senses, or the men of the schools; as the +supporters of a government founded upon a belief in the virtues of the +people, we turn to them in our despair to ask for deeper insight into +these important subjects. Alas! they are as yet too busy and too +ignorant to formulate for us a definite reply! But from them must come +the sibylline response, for the true artist has no home upon earth save +the heart of humanity! The kingdom of the Beautiful belongs not +exclusively to the luxurious, nor to any aristocracy of the refined and +cultivated, but, like the blue depths of God's heaven arch, spans the +world, everywhere visible, and everywhere beneficent!</p> + +<p>As they may not formulate for us a definite reply, let us place our ears +close to the throbbing heart of the masses, that we may hear what effect +the Beautiful, as manifested in art, has upon the electric pulses. And +now our despair passes forever, for men made in the image of God, when +not degraded by a corrupting materialism, nor lost in the bewildering +mazes of a luxurious sensualism, nor puffed up with the vain conceit of +the limited understanding, and thus holding themselves above all the +high enthusiasm and holy mysteries of art, always seem able to recognize +that which awakens in them noble thoughts or tender feelings; so that +when a poet sings to them of heroism, of liberty, of fraternity, of +justice, of love, of home, of God, if he can succeed in causing their +hearts to throb with generous emotions, they stop not to consult the +critics, they listen only to the voice of their own naive souls, and at +once and with one accord enthusiastically cry: 'Beautiful! beautiful! +how beautiful!' La Bruyère himself says: 'When a poem elevates your +mind, when it inspires you with noble and heroic feeling, it is +altogether useless to seek other rules by which to judge it; it is—it +must be good, and the work of a true artist.' Such is really the +criterion consulted by the people, and on this broad and just base rests +the general correctness of their judgments.</p> + +<p>Uncultured as they may be, is it not, indeed, among the people that we +see the most vivid sympathies with the really great artists, the true +poets? It is among them we most frequently find that glowing enthusiasm +which excites and transports them until they lose all selfish thoughts; +contrasting strongly with the measured calm, the still and prudent +reserve of the elite, the connoisseurs, which an impassioned artist +(Liszt) truly says 'is like the glacés on their own tables.' Let the +artist but strike some of the simple but sublime chords which, the +Creator has tuned to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span> the same harmony in human bosoms, and they will +respond from the heart of the people in an instantaneous thrill of noble +instincts and generous emotions. It is ever with the people that the +artist meets with that profound and <i>loving</i> admiration which so greatly +increases his own powers, and which always leads them to noble acts of +devotion for those who have succeeded in touching the harmonizing chords +vibrating through the mighty bosom of humanity made in the image of God!</p> + +<p>If we would learn something of the effect of art on the soul, and +understand the secrets of its power, we should go to a representation of +one of Shakspeare's tragedies, and mark the attentive crowd silently +contemplating the high scenes which the poet unrolls before them. +Immersed in poverty and suffering as they may themselves be, we will see +that at the words 'glory, honor, liberty, patriotism, love'; at the +sight of the courageous struggle of the just against the unjust; at the +fall of the wicked, the triumph of the innocent,—the furrowed and +rugged faces glow with sympathy, all hearts proclaim the loveliness of +virtue, or are unanimous in the condemnation of vice. Full of just +indignation against the aggressor, of generous sympathy with the +oppressed, shall the palpitating throng stay the quick throbbing of +their hearts to inquire of the men of the senses if they may <i>admire</i>, +or of the critics and schoolmen if they may <i>approve</i>? Their intuitions +have already decided the question for them. Why do the masses always +accord in their estimation of the just and unjust? why do they always +agree about glory and shame, vice and virtue, courage and cowardice? why +do they always find Beauty in the success of suffering virtue, the +triumph of oppressed innocence, the rescue of the wronged and helpless? +The answer throws its light over the whole world of art: Because God's +justice, even when it condemns themselves, is one of the Divine +attributes for whose enjoyment they were created; because it stands +pledged that whatever may be the disorder visible upon earth, it will +rule in awful majesty over the final ordering of all things. The soul, +urged on by an unconscious yet imperative thirst for the Absolute, +having in vain tried to find its realization in a world furrowed by +vanities and scared by vices, takes its flight to the clime of the +ideal, to find there the growth of eternal realities. The poet builds +ideal worlds in which he strives to find the absolute, adorning them +with all the beauties for which the human heart pines: heroism, +patriotism, devotion, love, take form and find appropriate expression; +for all is wisdom, power, liberty, and harmony in the artistic realms. +Art is a celestial vision which God sends to his exiled children, to +give them news of the invisible world for which they were created, to +soothe their sorrows, to turn their thoughts and affections to their +true centre. Art is the transient realization, the momentary possession +of the desires of the soul!</p> + +<p>There is then a Beauty inaccessible to the senses, above the narrow +limit of technical laws, which a simple and uncorrupted people +intuitively feel and love, for which the masses reserve their most +profound admiration, and which it is unquestionably the province of the +true artist to manifest through whatever medium he may have chosen as +his specific branch of art. The delight felt in the Beautiful arises +from the fact that it manifests or suggests, in a greater or less +degree, some portion of the Divine attributes for whose enjoyment we +were created. Is it not then time that the good and earnest men of our +own broad land should cease to ignore, if not to persecute, art; should +indeed reverently pause to inquire into the resources and capabilities +of the mighty symbolism used and wielded by the fine arts?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_VALUE_OF_THE_UNION" id="THE_VALUE_OF_THE_UNION"></a>THE VALUE OF THE UNION.</h2> + + +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p>We are engaged in a life-and-death struggle for our national +existence—for the preservation of the Union, for these are synonymous. +To succeed, we need an animating spirit that shall carry us through all +obstacles; that shall smile at repeated defeat; that shall ever buoy us +up with strong hope and confidence in the ultimate success of our +efforts. Such a spirit cannot flow from a simple love of opposition, +excited by the wicked bravado of our opponents; nor from a desire to +prove ourselves the stronger: neither can it flow from the mere wish to +destroy slavery. None of these motives singly, nor all of them combined, +are sufficient to sustain us in this hour of trial, or to carry us clear +through to the desired goal. The only motive which can do this, and +which, in the heart of every loyal man, should be of such large +proportions as immensely to dwarf all lower ones, is one that can flow +only from a clear comprehension of the value of the Union, coupled with +a conviction, arising out of this intelligent valuation, that the Union, +being what it is—containing within itself untold, and yet undeveloped +blessings to ourselves and to the human race at large—is nothing less +than a most precious gift of God; given into our charge, to be ours as +long as we deserve its enjoyment by our individual and national +adherence to truth and right; a conviction also, that our Union, from +the very marked Providential circumstances attending its establishment, +is in no small sense a divine work; and hence, that we may rest in the +sure hope that God will not permit His own work to be destroyed, except +by our refusing to coöperate with Him in its preservation.</p> + +<p>All our blessings, natural and spiritual, are enjoyed by us only in the +degree of our free and voluntary coöperation with the intentions of the +Divine Giver. No good thing is forced upon us, and nothing that we ought +to have is withheld if we put forth the power granted us to obtain it. +The atmosphere surrounds us, but the lungs must open and expand to +receive it. The food is before us, but the mouth must open, and the +hands convey it thither, or it is of no service. Light flows from the +sun, but the eye must open to enjoy it. And so with the blessings which +we enjoy in the Union; we must use our active powers to profit by them; +and at this crisis we must not only act to enjoy them, but must strain +every nerve to preserve them. The nation is now on its trial, to be +tested, as to whether it adequately values the divine gift of the Union. +If it does thus value it, it will use diligently and carefully all the +abundant resources which lie around it and within it, like an +atmosphere—wealth, population, energy, intelligence, mechanical +ingenuity, scientific skill, and all the needed <i>materièl</i> of warfare. +It is rich in all this, far more so than the South. All this, Providence +lays at the feet of the nation. It can do no more. The nation, as one +man, must now do <i>its</i> part, or continue to do as it has done; it must +coöperate, must put forth a determined <i>will</i>—a will tenfold more +resolute, more fixed and immovable to preserve the Union, than is that +of its enemies to destroy it. This will cannot exist without a clear, +intellectual appreciation of the worth of the Union; of its value as an +agent, which, if rightly employed, will continue to develop increasing +power to humanize and Christianize men, and to elevate, to broaden, and +intensify human life and happiness more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span> any form of political +institution that the world has ever witnessed.</p> + +<p>Full of this conviction, we shall then, individually and collectively, +be resolved that this noble continent, stretching three thousand miles +from ocean to ocean, and opened like a new world to man, just at an +epoch when religious and political liberty, starting into life in +Europe, might be transplanted into this virgin soil, where thus far they +have developed into this fair republic—we shall then be resolved that +this broad, rich territory shall be forever devoted</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To man's development—not to his</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">debasement.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To liberty and free order—not despotism</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">and forced order.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To an ever-advancing civilization—not</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">to a retrograding barbarism.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To popular self-government—not to</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">the rule of a slave-holding oligarchy.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To religion, education, and morality—not</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">to irreligion, ignorance, and</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">licentiousness.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To educated and dignified labor—not</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">to brutalized labor under the lash.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To individual independence and</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">equal rights—not to individual</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">subjugation to caste.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To peace—and not to border wars between</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">conflicting States.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To unity, harmony, and national</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">strength—not to disunity, civil discord,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">and subjection to foreign</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">powers.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>All these blessings on the one hand are guaranteed in the Union, and +only there—all their opposite horrors are involved as inevitably and +certainly in the Southern lunacy, resting on slavery and secession as +its corner stones! Madness most unparalleled!</p> + +<p>We will look now at a singular and beautiful fact—for fact it is, +account for it as we may. It is this: The course of civilization upon +this globe has apparently followed the course of the sun. Sunlight and +warmth travel from east to west. The moral and intellectual illumination +of the nations has travelled the same route. From central or farther +Asia, it goes to Assyria, and successively to Egypt, to Greece—thence +to Italy and Rome—then to western Europe, England, France, Spain. From +thence it leaps the Atlantic. The Bible, church, and school house, with +the Pilgrims and other colonies, scatter the primeval darkness and +savagism from the Atlantic coast. Still 'westward the march of empire +takes its way' to the Alleghanies, to the Mississippi; thence, by +another leap, across two thousand miles of continent, where it sparkles +with a golden lustre on the queenly California, enthroned upon the +far-off Pacific shore (yet by the miraculous telegraph within whispering +distance). There the newest and highest civilization comes face to face +with the oldest on the earth—hoary with ages; greets it in China across +the wide Pacific, and the circle of the globe is joined.</p> + +<p>Now the civilization inaugurated upon our continent, in these United +States, may be said to be, indeed is, the result of all that have +preceded it. It combines somewhat of the elements of all the +civilizations that have been strung along the earth's eastern +semi-circumference, besides others, peculiar to itself. And why should +it not be considered as the bud and opening flower growing out of the +summit of all the past, and for which the long ages have made toilsome +preparation. Long time does it take for stem and leaves to unfold, but +in the end comes the flower, and then the fruit. But here, in this bud +of splendid promise, the American Union, lurks the foul worm of slavery, +threatening to blast the fondest hopes of mankind by destroying this +glorious augury of a mature civilization, where man shall develop into +the full earthly stature of a being created in the divine image. Shall +it be? Not if the North is faithful to God, to mankind, and to itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span></p> + +<p>Let us take courage. The westward-travelling sunbeams have ever to +oppose the western darkness, but they conquer always. So American +civilization, also, has its darkness and barbaric elements to battle +with, but they too, God willing, shall vanish before it.</p> + +<p>Why have we been forced into this desperate, unexpected conflict? One +reason may possibly be, that by it, we may be aroused to a living sense +of the great value of our inheritance, the Union, when threatened with +its loss. 'Blessings brighten as they take their flight.' Benefit's +daily enjoyed, with hardly a care or effort on our part, are not prized +as they should be. When, however, we are threatened with their loss, we +awaken from indifference. A new sense of their value springs up, and a +severe contest for their preservation stamps their true worth indelibly +on the heart. Threaten to cut off the air a man breathes, the food and +drink that sustains him, and you rouse all his energies into new life; +and he now prizes these common but unthought-of blessings as he never +did before. And so it will be one effect of this contest, to arouse us +as a nation to see clearly our vantage ground in the world's progress, +and to stir us up as individuals, to lead higher and truer lives, each +for his own and for his country's sake. And when this Southern insane +wickedness is quelled, and the great American nation can rest and +breathe freely once more, it will then calmly ponder the past, and +survey the future. In the degree of its religion and virtue, and next of +its intelligence and energy, it will, in the course of time, clearly +perceive and wisely inaugurate a new social and industrial life, which +will be as far in advance of the present system of free labor as the +latter is itself in advance of slavery. What that is, cannot here be +stated. It will, however, be but the inevitable result of agencies and +influences now at work, and only interrupted and endangered by this +pro-slavery rebellion.</p> + +<p>With these remarks, we enter upon our topic: 'Why is the Union +priceless?'</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There are two reasons, among others, why it is so, upon which we shall +dwell at some length.</p> + +<p>The first is involved in the great fact that such is man's nature as +bestowed by the Creator, that only in the society of his fellows can +that nature be developed into all its grandeur, and thus bestow and +receive the utmost amount of happiness. The old adage, 'the more, the +merrier,' might be truly amplified in many ways. When numbers are +engaged in common pursuits, common interests, common views, common +joys—each one zealous, earnest, life-giving and life-receiving—the +happiness of the whole flows in upon each, and multiplies it a +thousandfold.</p> + +<p>Now if we look at history, keeping in mind the fact that the sole end of +the Creator is the happiness of his creatures, and that this happiness +is multiplied in proportion to the number of those who can be brought +into accord and concert of action (and action, too, as diversified as +possible)—looking at history, we say, under the light of this fact, it +would seem as if Providence, in the course of human events, was in the +continual effort, so to speak, to bring mankind into ever closer, more +harmonious, and more multiplied and diverse relations; ever striving to +mass the human race more and more into larger and larger communities; +the different portions of which should still retain all the freedom they +were prepared for, or needed to enjoy, while at the same time, they were +in close but free membership with the common body and its central head.</p> + +<p>We say that this seems to be the aim of Providence; while on the other +hand, there is just as evidently to be seen the working of an opposing +force, viz., human selfishness, human ignorance, individual ambition, +ever seeking its own at the expense of others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span> A selfish, energetic, +and ignorant spirit of individualism (as distinguished from an +enlightened, large-minded, <i>social</i> individualism, which only becomes +more marked and healthily developed by wide social intercourse), has in +all ages tended to split up society into smaller parts, animated by +mutual rivalry, jealousy, and hostility. When these antagonisms have +been carried to a certain length the evil cures itself, by the rise of a +despotism, which, as the instrument in the hands of Providence, brings +all these clashing communities under a strong government, that binds +them over, as it were, to keep the peace. By this, leisure and +opportunity are given for the cultivation of the arts, the sciences, and +industries, which tend to humanize men, and lessen the restless war +spirit.</p> + +<p>Thus the massing of many petty and warring tribes of barbarians into one +large nation, and under a strong despotic monarchy, without which they +could neither have been brought together nor kept together, is so much +gained for human progress.</p> + +<p>After this has continued for a time, when certain changes, certain +ameliorations have been effected in the intellectual, social, and moral +character of the nation, from the cultivation of the arts of peace, it +is then allowed to be broken up, as the period may have arrived for the +infusion of new elements and agencies of social progress which shall +place men upon a higher plane of national existence. It falls to pieces +through its own corruption and degeneracy, or by the invasion of +stronger neighbors. It is swallowed up by the destroying force, and its +people, its institutions, its ideas, its arts and sciences, its customs, +laws, modes of life, or whatever else it may have elaborated, become +mingled with those of surrounding nations, and a new political and +social structure, formed out of the old and the new elements recombined +anew and useless matter eliminated—stands forth in history; a structure +tending still more than previous conditions to raise men in the scale of +civilization—to bring them into closer relations—to enlarge and +multiply their ideas—to quicken their moral and social impulses—to rub +off the harsh angles of a selfish, narrow-minded individualism, and, in +a word, to advance them yet more toward that degree of virtue and +intelligence which is absolutely indispensable to the union of large +masses of men into a nation, whose political system shall at once unite +the utmost freedom for each individual with the most perfect general +order also.</p> + +<p>For the establishment of such a government we think the world has been +carried through a long educational process; for in such a government, +men will find the greatest earthly happiness, and also the greatest +facilities and inducements to live in such a way as shall secure the +happiness that lies beyond. And we think that the course of events in +history will show that such a method as that described has been pursued +by Providence, gathering men from the isolation and warfare of petty and +independent tribes, into large despotisms, where the lower, rude, and +selfish passions of wild men being held in restraint, some opportunity +is given for peaceful pursuits and the development of a higher range of +mental qualities—breaking these despotisms up again at certain periods, +and massing their constituent elements into larger or differently +constituted governments, with new agencies of progress added, according +as human mental conditions and needs required.</p> + +<p>That those great ancient monarchies, as the Assyrian, Persian, etc., had +this effect, cannot well be doubted. But in the rise and fall of the +great Roman empire, this appears very plainly. How many nations and +small communities—far and near—isolated, independent, and more or less +engaged in wars among themselves or in the constant apprehension of +it—how many, we say, of such communities were gath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span>ered under the broad +wings of the Roman eagle! From Spain and England on the west, to the +borders of India on the east—from the Baltic on the north, to the +deserts of Africa on the south—all were brought under the Roman sway; +were brought under a common tranquillity (such as it was), under a +common government, common laws, a common civilization more or less. All +these countries were raised from a lower to a higher condition by their +subjection to Roman domination. How far superior in England was the +Roman civilization, its laws, manners, institutions, to the rude +Anglican and Saxon life!</p> + +<p>Rome thus established a grand humanizing unity over all these different +regions, which otherwise had remained divided, hostile, or isolated from +each other.</p> + +<p>In the next place, through the instrumentality of this Roman unity, +Christianity was established with comparative ease over the greater part +of the then known world. This would perhaps have been very difficult if +not impossible had these regions been occupied by a multitude of +independent, and most likely, warring sovereignties.</p> + +<p>Christianity thus widely planted, and firmly rooted upon this Roman +civilization and by means of it, and this civilization, now perfected as +far as it was capable of being, or standing in the way of further human +progress, the empire fell to pieces, to make room for a new order of +things, in which Christianity, the remains of Roman civilization, and +the peculiar features of northern barbarian life, were the ingredients. +These elements, after numberless combinations, dissolutions, and +reconstructions, have resulted in the civilization of modern Europe. The +progress toward this civilization has everywhere exhibited a constant +tendency to larger and larger national unities—parts coalescing into +wholes, and these into yet larger units. Witness the reduction of the +number of German principalities, from one hundred or more to forty in +the present day—the movement now on foot in Germany for a federal union +among these forty—also the new Italian nationality. These we mention +but incidentally, not intending here to trace the steps of this advance.</p> + +<p>This progress toward unity has also been accompanied with a constant +though slow advance in the principles of religious and political +freedom.</p> + +<p>But now, out of this European civilization, the result itself of the +breaking up of the Roman semi-pagan, semi-Christian empire, and the +multiplied interminglings, changes, and reconstructions of the +Roman, the ecclesiastical, and northern barbarian elements—out +of this European civilization, with its movements toward large +nationalities—its progress toward religious and political freedom, and +toward the acknowledgment and recognition of human rights; the +substitution of constitutional monarchies for absolute, and the creation +of representative bodies from the people as part of the government—out +of all this, there springs as the fruit of all the long turmoil, the +wars, the blood and treasure, the groans and tears, the martyrdoms of +countless human lives, that during these long ages have, apparently in +vain, been offered up in the cause of liberty, of order, of national +peace, unity and freedom, of the right of man to the full and legitimate +use of all his God-given faculties—there springs, we say, as the fruit, +the result of all this suffering, our glorious American republic! our +sacred—yes, our sacred Union! The fairest home that man has ever raised +for man! To lay violent hands on which, should be deemed the blackest, +most unpardonable sacrilege. It is the actualization of a dazzling +vision, that may have often glowed in the imagination of many a patriot +and statesman of olden times—which he may have vainly struggled to +realize in his own age and nation, and died at last, heart-broken, amid +the carnage of civil strife.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span></p> + +<p>Our republic, we repeat, is the fruit of European struggles. If Europe +had not passed through what she has, the United States would never have +arisen. The principles of religious and political liberty sprang to +birth in Europe, but there they have been of tardy growth, because +surrounded and opposed by habits and institutions of early ages. They +needed transplantation to a new and unoccupied soil, where they could +enjoy the free air and sunshine, and not be overshadowed by anything +else.</p> + +<p>Here then we have our American civilization, formed out of what was good +in European, combined with much else that has had its origin upon our +own shores—the result of free principles allowed <i>almost</i> unobstructed +play.</p> + +<p>Let us survey the many elements of unity which we possess.</p> + +<p>First in large measure, a common origin, viz., from England—that +country of Europe farthest advanced of any other in religion, in +politics, in freedom, and in science and industry.</p> + +<p>Next, a common birth, as it were, in the form of numerous colonies, from +the mother country; planted almost simultaneously, it may be said; +possessed of common charters, which differed but slightly—containing +systems of colonial administration, full of the spirit of popular rights +and representation.</p> + +<p>Next, a common language, a common literature, a common religion, and +common interests, that should bind us together against all foes.</p> + +<p>Lastly, a common territory, washed by the two remote oceans—a +territory, in the present advanced state of science and of improved +modes of travel and of communication, without any material dividing +lines or barriers; but having, on the contrary, an immense river in the +centre, stretching its arms a thousand miles on either side, as if on +purpose to keep the vast region forever one and united.</p> + +<p>Never was the birth of a nation so full of promise—so full of all the +elements of a prosperous growth. If any one event can be said to be, +more than another, under the divine guidance, then, all the +circumstances attending the colonization of these shores and the +formation of this Union, have been most minutely and marvellously +providential. 'Here at last,' we may conceive some superior being to +exclaim, who from his higher sphere has watched with deep sympathy the +weary earth-journey of the human race, 'here at last, after these long +ages of discipline and suffering, has a long desired goal been reached. +Here a portion of the human family, having attained to such a degree of +virtue and intelligence, combined with skill in political arrangements, +and a commensurate knowledge of art, and science, and industrial +pursuits—may be intrusted with liberty proportioned to their moral and +intellectual advancement. Here they shall begin to live unitedly, more +and more in accordance with the divine intentions than man has ever yet +done. Millions on millions shall here be banded together into one vast, +free, yet orderly community, where each individual shall enjoy all the +liberty to which he is entitled by his moral character, and possess all +possible facilities for the full and healthy development of his entire +nature. Here, under the combined influence of true religion, +intelligence, and freedom—and these must go hand in hand—the millions +composing this great nation must become ever more and more united, +prosperous, and happy.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>This then, is the first reason why the Union is priceless—because in +this Union, Providence appears to have reached an end, a goal, to which +it has long been in the effort to conduct the human race, viz., the +bringing a larger and more rapidly increasing population into a more +free, united, and happy life, one more in accordance with human wants, +and with the measureless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</a></span> divine benevolence, than has ever yet been +brought about in the annals of mankind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>We proceed now to consider the second reason why the Union is priceless.</p> + +<p>This reason lies in the <i>method</i> of the organization of this Government.</p> + +<p>What is this plan or method?</p> + +<p>We reply that the immense value of the Union rests also upon the +incontrovertible fact (perhaps not widely suspected, but evident enough +when looked for) that the system of government of these United States, +the mode in which the smaller and larger communities are combined into +the great whole, together with the working of all in concert, <i>comes the +nearest of any other political structure to the Creator's method of +combining parts into wholes throughout the universe</i>.</p> + +<p>Wherever we behold a specimen of the divine creative skill, whether in +the mineral, vegetable, animal, or human kingdoms; whether it be a +crystal, a tree, a bird, or beast, a man, or a solar system, in all +these we observe one universal method of grouping, common to all +conditions. This method is that of grouping parts around centres, and +several of such groups around larger centres, upward and onward +indefinitely; while in living beings, according to their complexity, +each individual part, and each individual group of parts with its +centre, <i>is left free to move within its own sphere, yet at the same +time is harmonized with the movements of its neighbors through the +medium of the common centre</i>.</p> + +<p>Every such work of the Creator is an <i>E pluribus unum</i>, a one out of +many—a unit composed of many diversified parts, exhibiting a marvellous +unity, with an equally wonderful variety. Look at yonder tree, examine +its parts, leaves, twigs, branches, trunk, all endowed with a common +life. Yet each little individual leaf lives and moves freely upon its +centre or twig, which is a common centre for many leaves. Many little +twigs in their turn, each free to move by itself within a certain limit, +are ranged along their common centre, a branch. Many branches cluster +around a large one, and all the largest branches in their turn cluster +around the common trunk, or great centre supporting the whole fabric. +Each leaf and twig and branch contributes its share to the life of the +whole tree, and is in turn supported by the general life and circulating +sap.</p> + +<p>All this is repeated with far greater fulness and complexity in the +living animal, or in the human body. How numerous are the parts +composing a single organ! How many organs go to one system, how many +systems, bony, muscular, fibrous, circulatory, nervous, combine to make +up the entire body! Then again, all the members of the body move, +<i>within a certain limit</i>, in perfect independence of all the rest. The +finger can move without the hand, the hand can move without the arm, the +forearm without the upper arm, the entire arm without any other limb; +and yet all the parts of one limb, and all the limbs together, are +harmonized in action by the central brain.</p> + +<p>So also in the solar system. The moons move around the planets; the +planets around the sun; our group of suns around their magnetic axis, +the milky way; yet each of these heavenly bodies rolls freely in its own +orbit. In all these instances we have the great problem solved, of +reconciling liberty with order, liberty of the individual parts with +perfect order in the whole.</p> + +<p>As far then as human governments imitate this divine method of +organization seen in created objects, so far do they solve this problem +in the sphere of political arrangements, making due allowance of course +for the disturbing influence acting in man's own mental constitution, by +reason of his fall from the innocence and holiness in which he was +created. It is just because this divine and universal method has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</a></span> +unconsciously followed by the good and wise and immortal framers of the +national Constitution, and also because the morality and intelligence of +the people were adapted to this wise political structure, that the +American nation has prospered as it has, and become the envy of the +world.</p> + +<p>Is it asked in what consists this resemblance? We reply that it is in +the grouping of</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Individuals into townships;</p> + +<p>Of the townships into counties;</p> + +<p>Of the counties into States;</p> + +<p>Of the States into the national Union, with a central government.</p></div> + +<p>The township acts in township affairs through its officers, who +collectively compose its centre, and harmonize the actions of all the +individuals of the township in all matters which concern that individual +township. Through their officers, the people of the township act freely +together within the lawful sphere of the township. The common wants of +the township are attended to by the people through their officers, who +compose the centre around which all township action revolves.</p> + +<p>A number of townships, having common wants, are erected into a county. +The county officers and county court form the harmonizing centre of this +larger organization.</p> + +<p>A number of counties, having common wants, are erected into a State, +with a State government. This is the harmonizing centre, concentrating +the efforts of as many counties, townships, and individuals as may be +requisite to accomplish an object in any portion of the State, or in the +whole of it. At ten days' notice by its Governor, Pennsylvania sent near +one hundred thousand men into the field. Without political organization +this could never have been effected. What a power is here exhibited, and +yet all emanating directly from the people, without coercion of any +kind, beyond respect for their own-made laws! The spectacle is truly +grand.</p> + +<p>Finally, the States altogether have common wants, which only a central, +national government can supply. (Oh the deep wickedness or trebly +intensified insanity of secession! Language fails to express the utter +madness of the rebel leaders: the recklessness of a suicide is nothing +in comparison; for here are eight millions of men intent upon their own +destruction; fighting the North like fiends, because it would rescue +them from themselves, and save both North and South from a common abyss +of ruin!) The national government alone is strong at home and respected +abroad. It alone can concentrate the energies and resources of +thirty-four States, and of thirty-one millions of people, into any one +or many modes of activity which the nation may judge best for its own +interest. It is thus resistless. No single foreign power in the world +nor any probable or possible alliance of foreign powers could hope to +effect anything, with an army of three or four millions of soldiers that +the entire republic could raise and keep in the field. Thus in union is +our strength at home, for it gives the whole power and resources of the +nation to works of common utility and necessity. Such are the +maintenance of the army and navy, the building and support of forts, +lighthouses, and customhouses, collection of the revenue, the keeping +rivers and harbors navigable, the establishment of a general post +office, and its countless ramifying branches, constructing immense +public works, like the Pacific railroad, providing for extensive coast +surveys, and the like. Then in a different department, harmonizing the +action of States by national laws, by the Supreme Court, and by the +national courts in each State, dispensing an even justice throughout the +entire Union, by deciding appeals from State and county courts. Each +State enjoys the benefits of these national functions, with the least +possible cost to itself; and were there no national government, each +State would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</a></span> have to provide itself with all these things, or what +proportion of them it required, at a very heavy outlay of its own more +limited resources, and would be obliged to double, perhaps quadruple its +taxes. Each State requires the means of its own defence; and as they +would all be independent sovereignties, each would be compelled, like +the European nations, to keep its own standing army, and watch its +neighbors closely, and be ready to bristle up on the least sign of +aggression on their part. The soldiers of each standing army would be, +as in Europe, so much power withdrawn from productive industry, kept in +idleness, and supported by those who were left free to labor. Each State +requires a postal system; those on the seaboard require tariffs, a navy, +etc., and in the absence of a national government we can hardly form an +idea of the endless disputes that would ensue from these and a thousand +other sources. For this reason the old federation of the States was an +experience of inexpressible value. It settled forever, in the minds of +all communities who are governed by cool common sense and not mad +passion, the utter impracticability (for efficient coöperation, and +peaceful union) of a mere league or confederacy among sovereign and +independent States. While the seven years' war of independence lasted, +it managed to hold the States together; but when peace was restored the +evils of the league were so glaring, and the dangers in the future so +imminent, that the good sense of the people saved the young nation in +time, by sheltering it under that broad, strong roof, the present +national Constitution. Thus the individual States legislate and act for +themselves in all that concerns themselves alone. But in that which +concerns themselves in connection and in common with other States, and +where, if each State were absolutely independent, such State action +would come into conflict with the wants or rights of other States, and +also be a great cost to the single State—all such common and general +matters are accomplished with uniformity and harmony by all the States +collectively through the general or central government.</p> + +<p>But further.—This central government itself, like the nation which it +serves, is a compound body; a unit composed of parts, each of which in +its own sphere is independent, yet beyond that sphere is limited by the +functions of the other parts. This government is a <i>triple</i> compound, +and consists of the legislative, the judicial, and the executive +departments.</p> + +<p>The legislative, or Congress, declares the will of the nation.</p> + +<p>The judicial or judging department decides and declares the proper ways +and means, the how, the when, the persons and conditions, according to +which this national will is to be carried out, and—the executive +department is the arm and hand that does the carrying out; that performs +by its proclamations and by its civil and military agents, what the +Congress and judicial departments have willed and constitutionally +decided shall be done.</p> + +<p>Thus is perceived a beautiful analogy between these three departments +acting separately and yet in concert—and the will, the intellect, and +the bodily powers of the individual man. A man's will is very different +and distinct from his intellect or reasoning faculty; and both will and +intellect are widely distinct from the bodily powers. Not only are these +three distinct and totally different elements in man's nature, but only +in the degree that they remain distinct, and that they are duly balanced +against each other, and that they all act in concert—only in this +degree is the life of the individual self-poised, harmonious, and free.</p> + +<p>And precisely the same is true of these three functions of government. +It is essential to a free republican state that these functions should +remain distinct, and administered by different bodies. When they are all +merged into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</a></span> each other, and rested in a single individual or a single +body of individuals, the government is then a despotism. The very +essence of what we understand by despotism, is this massing, this fusing +together of elements that can properly and justly live and act <i>only</i> +when each is at liberty, in freedom to be itself, in order that it may +perform its own, its peculiar and appropriate function, in harmonious +connection with others performing theirs. Despotism is the binding, +compressing, suffocating of individual life; first of the three +functions of government, which should always be kept separate, and next, +as a natural and inevitable consequence, of those who come under that +solidified administration. The nation governed by a despotism must be +moulded after the same pattern; it must necessarily have the variety and +freedom of its many constituent parts destroyed, and be massed and +melted together into a homogeneous and indiscriminate whole; only +permeated in all directions by the channels conveying the will of the +despotic head.</p> + +<p>Thus the province of free government is not to be conceived of as that +of restraining, repressing, punishing. This is only its negative +function. Its positive office is the very opposite, and is truly a most +exalted one. And this is, to remove every barrier to the freest outflow +of human energies. It is to give an open field and the widest scope for +the play of every human faculty consistent with right. Government does +this, by establishing order among multitudes teeming with life and +activity—each seeking, in his own way, the broadest vent for his +God-given energies. These human energies are given to men for the very +purpose that they may flow forth in a thousand modes of activity and +industry, and that, thus, men may mutually impart an exalted happiness +upon each other. These energies are to be repressed only when they are +wrong, when they take a wrong direction, when they conflict with the +welfare of the community. When these energies, these human impulses to +act, are right, when they aim at useful results, then they must have +every facility, every possible channel opened to their outflow. And the +very first and most essential condition of this free outflow of life +among multitudes is, that there be order among them—that there be some +system, some methodical arrangement whereby concert and unity of action +may be effected among this diversified life. Without this order +—without systems or common methods of action in the thousand affairs +which concern every community, it is evident that there must be +<i>dis</i>order, confusion, and clashing. The activity of each individual, +and of each class of individuals, will come into collision, and be +repressed by the like activity of others. It is utterly impossible, in a +community where there is no order, no mutually understood arrangement of +relations, duties, and pursuits; in other words, where there is no +government; it is impossible, under such conditions, for individuals, if +even of the best intentions, to live and do as they wish. For many wills +must come into conflict, unless they can be harmonized, unless they have +a mutual understanding and consent among each other that there shall be +common and well-defined methods of procedure, under the countless +circumstances in which men <i>must</i> act together, or not act at all.</p> + +<p>Now, it is the true function of government to establish, these common or +general modes of procedure, termed laws, among masses, and to punish +departures from them. Government is thus the great social harmonizer of +these otherwise necessarily conflicting and mutually interfering human +energies.</p> + +<p>Government coördinates, harmonizes, concentrates the efforts of +multitudes. It does this by establishing and maintaining <i>order</i>, an +orderly arrangement of human activities—arrangements, methods of +procedure, which are adapted to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</a></span> the wants of the community, and <i>into</i> +which men's activities flow freely and spontaneously, and without +compulsion (except in the case of violators of law), because of their +adaptation to the public wants.</p> + +<p>But now, what constitutes order? What is its essential nature?</p> + +<p>The answer is, that order is the harmonious relation of parts in a +whole; and parts can have no orderly, that is, symmetrical and +harmonious, relation to each other, except through their relation to a +common centre.</p> + +<p>Order is the <i>sub</i>ordination of things, of things lower to something +that is higher; and <i>sub</i>ordination is the ordination or ordering of +parts <i>under</i> something that is above—something to which the rest must +<i>con</i>form, that is, must form themselves or be formed <i>with</i> it, in +harmony with it, if order is to result.</p> + +<p>This something is thus, of course, that which is central—the chief +element in the group; that which is the most prominent feature, and +which gives character to all subordinate parts.</p> + +<p>It is thus clearly evident that the very essence of government, of +order, of harmony, of subordination, is the grouping of individual parts +around centres; of these compound units as larger individuals, around +some higher centre again, and so on, until a limit is prescribed by the +very nature of the thing thus organized into an ascending series of +compounds.</p> + +<p>This method of grouping and organizing parts into wholes, is, as we have +already seen, the divine method; and, of course, being such, as has also +been said, it is seen in every created object—in minerals, plants, +animals, and in the systems of suns and planets.</p> + +<p>It is the method of man's bodily organization, and much more, if +possible, is it the method of his mental organization. Man's mind +consists of powers of affection and thought. His affections, loves, +desires, or whatever they may be termed, all group themselves around +some leading motive, some ruling passion, which is central for a part or +the whole of a lifetime. All minor motives and ends of action are +subordinate, and only subservient as a means to satisfy the central, +dominant passion. They revolve around it, like satellites around their +primary, or like planets around their sun.</p> + +<p>His thoughts, likewise—the method of his intellectual operations, obey +the same law. In every subject which he investigates, he marshals a +multitude of facts around central principles or conclusions. He shuts +them up under a general, chief, leading fact or law. A number of +conclusions, again, are marshalled around one still more general and +comprehensive, and thus he mounts up into the highest and most universal +principles. All the knowledge stored away in his mind is thus organized, +almost without his consciousness, into groups of lower and higher facts +and details, ranged under or around their central principles.</p> + +<p>The closer and more symmetrical is this grouping of particulars and +generals in the intellect, or, rather, the greater the power thus to +arrange them, the more logical and compactly reasoning is that mind. The +looser and less connected is this grouping, the less logical is the +mind; and when the proper connection fails to be made between +particulars and generals, between facts and their principles, or between +parts and their centre, then the mind is in an idiotic or insane +condition.</p> + +<p>Now, man's mental movements, being thus themselves obedient to this +great order-evolving method, then, of course, when he applies his +faculties to investigate the objects and phenomena of the outer world, +he classifies, arranges, and disposes them strictly after the same +method, because he cannot help doing so. The naturalist studies +minerals, plants, animals—and each kingdom, at his bidding, marshals +itself into order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</a></span> before him. Each resolves its otherwise confused +hosts into groups and series of groups, each with its own centre and +leading type. The animal kingdom has its sub-kingdoms, classes, orders, +families, and species. Botanists speak of divisions, classes, orders, +genera, and species, &c., species being the first assemblage of +individuals.</p> + +<p>It is, therefore, seen that, by the very necessity of the case, when men +themselves are to be massed into communities and nations, they come +inevitably under the same universal method of organization. Whether the +government be free, or whether it be despotic, it must, in either case, +be organized, and organized according to this universal method. It must +consist of parts with their centres, compounded into wholes, and of +these compound units formed into still larger ones; until the entire +nation, as a grand whole, revolves upon a central pivot, or national +government.</p> + +<p>But here there presents itself a vast distinction between despotic and +free governments—a distinction which arises out of the different +relations sustained, in these respective modes of administration, +between the government and the people—between the centre and the +subordinate parts. What is this difference?</p> + +<p>If we look around through nature, we shall find that all organized +beings, that is, beings composed of different parts or organs, all +aiding, in their several ways, to the performance of a common function, +or a number of harmonized functions—in such an organized structure, +whether it be a plant, an animal, the human body, or even the globe +itself, we shall find two reciprocal movements—one from the centre, +outward, and another from without, inward, or toward the centre; and +further, that the integrity of the life of the individual depends upon +the harmonious relation or balance between these two opposite movements.</p> + +<p>The individual man, for instance, is a centre of active energies that +are ever radiating from himself toward men and things around him; and he +receives from them, in return, countless impressions and various +materials for supporting his own life. What is thus true of the man +himself, is also true of the organs and systems of organs of which his +body is composed. The nervous system exhibits nerves with double +strands; one set (the motor fibres) conveying nervous force from the +centre as motor power to the limbs; the other, conveying sensations <i>to</i> +the centre, from without.</p> + +<p>The heart, again, the centre of the circulating system, sends forth its +crimson tide to the farthest circumference, and receives it back as +venous blood—to send it forth afresh when purified in the lungs.</p> + +<p>The plant has its ascending and descending sap; it drinks in the air and +sunshine, and gives these forth again in fragrance and fruit. The very +globe receives its life from the sun—and radiates back, forces into +space.</p> + +<p>Human governments—human political and social organizations, are no +exceptions to this general law. Every government, even the most +despotic, while it rules a nation with a rod of iron, depends for its +life upon the people whom it oppresses. While the central head radiates +its despotic will through its pliant subordinates, down through all +ranks and classes of the community, it receives from them the means of +its own preservation.</p> + +<p>A free government likewise radiates authority from the central head, and +also depends for its life on the people whom it governs. What is the +point of difference between them?</p> + +<p>It is simply this:</p> + +<p>There are two elements of power in a nation.</p> + +<p>One is <i>moral</i>, viz., the free-will and consent of the people.</p> + +<p>The other is <i>physical</i>, viz., military service, and revenue from +taxation.</p> + +<p>The free consent of the people is the <i>soul</i> of the national strength.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</a></span></p> + +<p>The treasure and the armies which they furnish, constitute the <i>body</i>.</p> + +<p>For the highest efficiency, soul and body must act as one, whether in +the individual or in the collective man. They must not be separated. +Hence the perfect right of men who would be free to refuse to be taxed +by government without being represented—without having a voice in its +management. The <i>material</i> support must not be given without the +<i>moral</i>—that is one form of slavery.</p> + +<p>But of these two elements of national strength, a despotism, a +government of force, possesses and commands only the physical or +material, viz., military service and revenue. It controls only the +<i>body</i> of the national powers. Not resting upon the broad basis of the +free choice and consent of the people, it is like a master who can force +the body of another to do his bidding, while the spirit is in concealed +rebellion. Such a government, in proportion as it severs this national +soul from the body, is weak through constant liability to overthrow, +from any chance failure of its material props.</p> + +<p>A free government, on the other hand, possesses both the elements of +strength. It rests upon the free will and affection of the people, as +well as upon the abundant material support which they must ever yield to +a government of their own creation, and which exists solely for their +own use and benefit. Such a government is capable and strong in exact +proportion to the virtue and intelligence of the masses from whom it +emanates.</p> + +<p>Thus it is seen that a despotism differs from a free government as to +the reciprocal action that takes place between the people and the +government. In a despotism, all authority flows only in one direction, +viz., from the central head down to the different ranks of subordinate +officers, and through these numerous channels it reaches all classes of +the people. But there is no returning stream of authority from the +people to the government, from the parts to the centre. The only return +flow is that of military service and revenue.</p> + +<p>But a free government returns to the people all that it receives from +them. From the masses there converges, through a thousand channels, to +the central government, both the elements of national strength, viz., +authority to act, and the means of carrying out this authority, that is, +money and military service—the body, of which the popular will and +authority is the soul. The people declare their will that such and such +individuals shall be clothed with, and represent their united power, and +act for them in this representative capacity. The persons thus chosen, +and who constitute the government or central head, with its subordinate +agencies, declare from this central position of authority with which +they have been invested by the people, that such and such things are +necessary for the welfare and orderly activity of the people, and in the +name, and with the coöperation of the people, they <i>will</i> to carry these +measures out.</p> + +<p>Thus life, energy, power, from the people, flow from all points to the +government, to the centre; and from the government it flows back again +to the people as <i>order</i>, as the force that arranges, methodizes, +harmonizes, and regulates the outflow of the popular energies in all the +departments of human activity. It clears the channels of national +industry of all obstacles. By its legislative, judicial, and executive +functions, it establishes, on the one hand, common methods of action +among multitudes having common interests and aims, and thus obviates +clashing and confusion; and, on the other, it punishes those who would +interfere with and obstruct or destroy this order.</p> + +<p>The government is the concentrated will and intelligence of the people, +directed to the wise guidance of the national life—directed to the +harmonizing of the diversified activity and industry of the nation, to +the opening of all possible channels for that activity, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</a></span> to the +removal of everything that would obstruct and counteract the nation's +utmost development and progress.</p> + +<p>In this way, a free government exhibits, as far as human imperfection +admits, the union of the two great principles, <i>liberty</i> and <i>order</i>. +The people are free to think, talk, write, and act as they see fit; but +since there can be no liberty, but only license, or lawlessness, without +order—without beneficent methods, symmetrical forms and arrangements, +<i>in which</i> that liberty can be enjoyed by individuals and communities, +without conflicting with other individuals and communities, parts of the +same free whole—therefore government is created by the people to +prescribe and maintain this order, essential to this common liberty; an +order which is the <i>form</i>, or <i>forms</i>, under which both individuals and +communities shall act, singly or in concert, in the countless relations +in which the members of the same community or nation come into contact +with each other.</p> + +<p>Now, in the United States, the chart of this orderly and symmetrical +network of political arrangements for the free movement among each other +of the individuals in the township, of the townships in the county, of +the counties in the State, and of the States in the Union—and within +the protecting lines of which political arrangements, the people are +enabled to pursue their industrial avocations without mutual +interference and collision, and to attend in peace and security to all +the employments that tend to elevate, refine, and freely develop the +individual man (for government is only and solely a <i>means</i> to this +great end)—the chart, we say, of all these orderly arrangements, is our +immortal national Constitution, together with the State constitutions +that cluster around it, as their centre, axis, and support.</p> + +<p>Through each State constitution, the national and central one sends down +an iron arm, clasping them all by a firm bond to itself and to each +other. And in each, the grasp of this arm is riveted and double riveted, +above and below, by these two comprehensive, unmistakable articles, +without which the others had else been valueless; and for which the +framers of this great instrument are entitled to our lasting gratitude +and admiration.</p> + +<p>The articles are these, viz.: Art. 6th, sec. 2d: 'This Constitution, and +the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof +... <i>shall be the supreme law of the land</i> ... anything in the +constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.'</p> + +<p>And art. 4th, sec. 4th: 'The United States shall <i>guarantee</i> to every +State in the Union a <i>republican</i> form of government, and shall protect +each of them against invasion....'</p> + +<p>The first of these admits of no separation or secession. The second +preserves everywhere that form of government under which alone the +fullest political freedom can be enjoyed. In fighting, then, for the +Constitution, we fight for an undivided Union on the one hand, and, on +the other, for a Union that guarantees to each member of it that form of +government which secures the greatest liberty to those who live under +it. May we not, we say again, rest in an all but certain hope that the +Divine Being will see fit to preserve His own work? For such, though +accomplished through human agency, we feel constrained to believe, have +been this Union and its remarkable constitution.</p> + +<p>We have regarded the Union as the culmination of a long series of +endeavors, so to call them, on the part of Providence, to bring men from +a social condition characterized by the multiplicity, diversity, +separation, antagonism, and hostility of independent, warring, petty +states, into that larger, higher form of political and social life, that +shall combine in itself the three conditions of unity—variety in unity, +and of the utmost liberty with order—as the soul and life of the +political body. And that it has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</a></span> also been the aim of Providence, in the +formation of this Union, to accomplish the above object on as large a +scale as possible, in the present moral and intellectual condition of +the race.</p> + +<p>Can we be far wrong in such a view? Think of our republic embracing in +its wide extent, one, two, three, or more hundred millions of human +beings, all in political union, enjoying the largest liberty possible in +the present life, as well as the ever-increasing influence and light of +religion, science, and education, giving augmented power to preserve and +rightly use that liberty. Extent of territory in the present age, is no +bar to the union of very distant regions. When the telegraph, that +modern miracle, brings the shores of the Pacific within three hours' +time of the Atlantic seaboard—when railroads contract States into +counties, and counties into the dimensions of an average farm, as to the +time taken to traverse them—when <i>spaces</i> are thus brought into the +closest union, it is but the counterpart and prophecy of the close moral +and industrial union of the people who inhabit the spaces. When slavery, +that relic of barbarism, that demon of darkness and discord, is +destroyed, we can conceive of nothing that shall possess like power to +sunder one section of the Union from another—of nothing that shall not +be within the power of the people to settle by rational discussion or +amicable arbitration. No! Slavery once destroyed, an unimagined Future +dawns upon the republic. The Southern rebellion, and the <i>utterly +unavoidable</i> civil war thence arising—as these are the two +instrumentalities by which slavery will be cut clean away from the +vitals of the nation, and the Union left untrammelled, to follow its +great destiny—these twin events, we say, will, in after ages, be looked +back upon as blessings in disguise—as the knife of the surgeon, that +gives the patient a new lease of a long, prosperous, and happy life.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>We have contemplated the Union, and seen something of its matchless +symmetry, beauty, and indefinite capabilities, ever unfolding, to +promote human welfare, through its unity with variety, its liberty with +order, its freedom of action of each part in its own sphere, coëxisting +with the harmonious working of all together as one grand whole—all of +which arises, as was said, from the unconscious modelling (on the part +of its authors) of our political structure upon the Divine and universal +plan of organization in mineral, in plant, in animal, in the planetary +systems, and, above all, in man himself, body and mind.</p> + +<p>We saw that the method of this organization was the grouping of +individual parts into wholes around a centre; of many such compound +units around a yet higher centre, and so on, indefinitely, onward and +upward. That by such an organization, individual freedom was secured to +each part, within a certain limit, wide enough for all its wants, and +yet perfectly subordinated to the freedom and order of all the parts +collectively, revolving or acting freely around the common centre and +head. We saw that in the Divine creations—in all the objects of the +three kingdoms of nature, the two great principles of liberty and order +were thus perfectly reconciled and harmonized (true <i>order</i> being only +the <i>form</i> under which true <i>liberty</i> appears, or can appear); and, +further, that in proportion as human affairs and institutions obey the +same law, or, rather, in proportion as men individually and collectively +advance in virtue and intelligence, do they unconsciously, and more or +less spontaneously, come into this Divine order, both in the regulation +of personal motive and conduct, and in outward political and social +matters.</p> + +<p>Hence, as has already been stated, the near approach to this method in +the political organization of the United States was the result of an +amount of moral and intellectual culture, first in the colonies, and +afterward in the con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</a></span>trivers and adopters of our political framework, +without which it could never have been formed; and in the degree that +this mental condition is maintained and advanced yet more and more, will +the citizens of the Union apply the same method of organization to the +less general affairs of industrial and social life. Now, all this is not +fancy; human progress in the direction indicated, can be scientifically +demonstrated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WAR_SONG_EARTHS_LAST_BATTLE" id="WAR_SONG_EARTHS_LAST_BATTLE"></a>WAR SONG:—EARTH'S LAST BATTLE.</h2> + +<h3>Dedicated To</h3> + +<h3>THE SOLDIERS OF THE UNION.</h3> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up with the Flag of Hope!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let the winds waft her</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On through the depths of space</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Faster and faster!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up, brave and sturdy men!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Down with the craven!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He who but falters now,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fling to the raven!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On while the blood is hot—on to the battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Flash blade and trumpet sound! let the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come from your homes of love</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wilder and faster!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hail balls and sabres flash!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wrong shall not master!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Strike to the throbbing heart</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brother or stranger!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Traitors would murder hope!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Freedom's in danger!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On for the rights of man—just is the battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Flesh deep the naked blade! let the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men of the rugged North,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dastards they deem you!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wash out the lie in blood,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As it beseems you!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Glare in the Southern eye</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Freedom, defiance!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Traitors with death and hell</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seal their alliance!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On—shed your heart's best blood! glorious the battle!</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Freedom is born while death peals his shrill rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Down with, the rattlesnake!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Armed heel upon it!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rive the palmetto tree—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cursed fruit grows on it!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up with the Flag of Light!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let the old glory</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flash down the newer stars</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Rising in story!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On—manhood's hot blood burns! God calls to battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Flash, blades, o'er crimson pools! let the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Death shadows happy homes;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Faster and faster</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woe, sorrow, anguish throng;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Blood dyes disaster!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men doubt their fellow men:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hate and distraction</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Curse many a council hall;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Traitors lead faction!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: Cease this infernal strife! rush into battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Blast not all human hope with your cursed prattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">God! the poor slave yet cowers!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Call off the bloodhounds!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men, can ye rest in peace</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While the cursed lash sounds?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woman's shrill shrieks and wails</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Quick conquest urges;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bleeding and scourged and wronged,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wild her heart surges!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: Wives, mothers, maidens call! God forces battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Stay the oppressor's hand though the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hark! it is Mercy calls!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Will ye surrender</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Freedom's last hope on earth?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No,—rather tender</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heart's blood and life's life</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Neath our Flag's glory:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scattered its heaven stars,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dark human story!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: Strike, for the blow is love! Despots force battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">'Good will to men,' our cry, wings the shot's rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up from the cotton fields,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Swamps and plantations,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Drinking new life from you,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[Pg 588]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Swarms the dusk nation.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Send them not back to pain!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Strike and release them!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hate not, but succor men;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sorrow would cease then!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On—let God's people go! Mercy is battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Freedom is love and peace,—let the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, that ye knew your might,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Knew your high station!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">God has appointed you</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Guardian of nations!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Teach tyrants o'er the world,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bondage is over;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bid them lay down the lash,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Welcome their brothers!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: Pour oil in every wound, when done the battle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Man now must stand redeemed though the shot rattle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On—till our clustering stars</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No slave float over,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Man joins in harmony,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Helper and lover!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ransom the chained and pained,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nations and stations!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On—till our Flag of Love</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Floats o'er creation!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: Strike, till mankind is free, mute the chains rattle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">Fight till love conquers strife—Freedom's last battle!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yes, we shall stand again</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brother with brother,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Strong to quell wrong and crime,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All the world over!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heart pressed to heart once more,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nought could resist us,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Earth cease to writhe in pain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Millions assist us!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chorus</span>: On till the world is free through the shot's rattle!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.7em;">When love shall conquer hate, fought earth's last battle!</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[Pg 589]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MIRIAMS_TESTIMONY" id="MIRIAMS_TESTIMONY"></a>MIRIAM'S TESTIMONY.</h2> + + +<p>I do not know why it was that I studied the characters of Miriam and +Annie so closely at Madame Orleans' school, for I had known them both +from early childhood; we were of the same age, and had lived in the same +village, and attended the same schools. I suppose it was partly owing to +the fact of my having arrived at a more thoughtful age, or it may be +that their peculiarities of disposition exhibited themselves more +strongly among strangers. They were neither of them surface characters. +Miriam was too reserved, and Annie too artful to be easily understood. +But no one who had once known Miriam could, ever forget her. Her parents +called her 'a peculiar child;' among her friends the old people called +her 'queer,' and the young ones 'cracked,' She was not pretty, but +everybody pronounced her a fine-looking girl. Her eyes were the only +peculiarity in her face. They were of a rich, dark-gray color, small, +and deeply set; but at times—her 'inspired times,' as Annie called +them—they would dilate and expand, until they became large and +luminous. At such times she would relate with distinctness, and often +with minuteness, events which were transpiring in another house, and +sometimes in another part of the world.</p> + +<p>It was seldom that we had an opportunity of testing the truth of these +'visions,' but when we did we found them exact in every particular.</p> + +<p>At other times her mind took a wider range, and she would see into the +future. When we were children, I remember the awe with which we used to +listen to 'Miriam the prophetess,' as we called her, and the wonder with +which we remarked that her prophecies invariably were fulfilled. But, as +I grew older, my awe and wonder diminished in proportion, and, being of +a very practical turn of mind myself, and very skeptical of spiritual +agencies, mesmerism, and clairvoyance, and indeed of anything out of the +ordinary course of events, I put no faith whatever in any of Miriam's +visions and prophecies; especially as I noticed they only occurred when +she was sick, or suffering under depression of spirits. Annie either did +believe, or professed to believe, every word she said. As Miriam grew +into womanhood it was only to Annie and me that she confided her strange +visions, although she well knew I did not believe in their reality. We +were the only ones who never laughed at her, and she was very sensitive +on the subject.</p> + +<p>Annie was so beautiful that it was a delight to look at her lovely face, +listen to her musical voice, and watch her graceful motions. She fully +appreciated her own charms, and had a way of making others appreciate +them also. She had many more friends than Miriam, for who could resist +the charm of her face and manner?</p> + +<p>She had become quite accomplished, for she possessed a good deal of +talent, but was worldly minded, vain, and selfish. It may be matter of +surprise that such a girl should have been my intimate friend, and still +stranger that she should have been the friend of Miriam; but she was +lively and agreeable, and when we were children together we did not care +to analyze her character, and when we knew her thoroughly we still loved +her—from habit, I suppose. At all events, whatever were the sympathies +which bound us together, we continued firm friends until we were +eighteen, when we left Madame Orleans' school, where we had resided for +four years.</p> + +<p>At that time Annie returned to our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[Pg 590]</a></span> native village, while Miriam and I +went to a Southern city, intending to spend the winter with her uncle's +family; but we liked our new home so much that we prolonged our visit +two years. After we had been there a few months, by some chance, which I +have now forgotten, Henry Ackermann came to the city where we resided. +He was a few years older than we, but had been one of our playmates in +childhood. His parents had removed from our native village, and gone to +California some years before, when the gold fever was at its height, +since which time we had heard little about them, and Henry had nearly +faded out of our recollections, until now he suddenly appeared, destined +to be the controlling fate in the life of one of us, for Miriam and he +soon grew to love one another; though what affinity there was between +their natures I never could imagine. But he told me that he loved her, +and she told me that she was very happy, and I was bound to believe them +both, and thought that on the whole they would be a better-matched +couple than most of those I saw about me.</p> + +<p>It is needless to say much of their courtship. Their engagement was not +made public, therefore it was not necessary to make a parade of their +affection before indifferent acquaintance, Miriam's love, like that of +all proud, reserved natures, was intense. Ackermann's attentions to her +were graceful and delicate, and he ever manifested toward her in his +whole manner that silent devotion, unobtrusive and indescribable, which +is so gratifying to woman. It was evident that he understood her +thoroughly: whether he appreciated her as thoroughly was another matter, +about which I had my doubts.</p> + +<p>It was true that strange rumors had floated from California to our +distant little city in regard to Ackermann. Evil rumors they were—they +could scarcely be called rumors—nobody repeated them, nobody believed +them—and yet they were whispered into the ear so stealthily that it +seemed as if they were breathed by the very air which surrounded +Ackermann. I paid no heed to them. Miriam heard them, did not care for +them—why should I?</p> + +<p>Months passed away—happily to the lovers—pleasantly to me. +Circumstances then compelled Ackermann to return to our village, while +Miriam felt it to be her duty to remain where she was; but she expected +to follow him in a few months at latest. He carried with him a letter of +introduction to Annie, in which Miriam told her of her engagement to the +bearer, and requested Annie to be his friend for her sake. This was soon +answered by a characteristic letter from Annie congratulating Miriam on +her choice, pronouncing Ackermann the most delightful of men, etc.</p> + +<p>During the winter which followed, Miriam seemed quietly happy and always +pleasant and cheerful. Henry's letters were frequent, and so were +Annie's. I did not see the former, but they appeared to afford a great +deal of satisfaction to Miriam. Annie's letters were as lively and merry +as herself, and contained frequent hints that the devoted attentions of +a certain Mr. Etheridge—a wealthy, middle-aged suitor—were not +entirely disagreeable to her; that she thought she should like right +well to be mistress of his fine mansion; with much more nonsense of the +same kind.</p> + +<p>I should have mentioned that Miriam had never told her lover of the +peculiar gifts of prophecy and second sight which she had, or fancied +that she had. She was too happy at the time he was with her to be +visited by her 'visions.' I thought they had ceased altogether, and I +think Miriam believed they had, and was happy to be done with them +forever.</p> + +<p>I was quite surprised then to see her walk into my room one day in a +hurried manner, with a face ghastly pale, and eyes unusually distended, +and gazing at me with a wild, fixed stare.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[Pg 591]</a></span> She trembled exceedingly, +and tried to speak, but the words refused to come at her bidding. I was +much alarmed, and, remembering there was a glass of wine in the closet, +I brought it to her, but she motioned it away. I opened the window, and +the rush of cold air revived her. She sat down by it, and after a little +time, she said:</p> + +<p>'Hester, do you remember the little sitting room of Annie's, at the foot +of the back stairs, with windows opening into the garden?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?'</p> + +<p>'She has had it newly furnished, and very elegantly.'</p> + +<p>'How do you know?'</p> + +<p>'Because I was there this afternoon; spent some time in it.'</p> + +<p>'You! in Annie's room!'</p> + +<p><i>I</i> was there, in Annie's room—that is, the only part of me that is +worth anything; my body remained here, in my own room, I suppose.'</p> + +<p>I saw at once that the old spell was on her again, and, as I made it a +point to fall in with her humor on such occasions, I said:</p> + +<p>'Well, what did you see there?'</p> + +<p>'I saw an open piano, and books and music scattered around. There were a +great many flowers in the room. A bright fire was in the grate, and +Pompey—the house dog—was stretched on a rug before it. A large +easy-chair, covered with blue damask, stood near the fireplace. Henry +Ackermann was seated in it. Annie was kneeling before him. He talked to +her while he stroked her hair. I heard every word that he said.'</p> + +<p>Here she paused. I was getting quite excited with her narrative, but I +spoke as calmly as I could:</p> + +<p>'You have only fancied these things, Miriam. You are ill.'</p> + +<p>'The <i>material</i> part of my nature may be ill. I do not know. But the +<i>immaterial</i> is sound and healthy. It sometimes leaves its grosser +companion, and makes discoveries for itself. This is not the first time +it has happened, as you well know. I have been particular in my +description, in order that I might convince you that I have actually +been there. You know that the description I have given is entirely +different from the appearance of Annie's room in former times. I have +never heard that she had newly furnished it. Write to her, and ask her +to describe her room to you, and you will find that I have seen all that +I have told you.'</p> + +<p>Finding her so calm, and so willing to reason on what she had seen, I +ventured to ask:</p> + +<p>'And what did Ackermann say to her?'</p> + +<p>'Only a very little thing,' said she, with bitter emphasis. 'That he +loved her—and admired me; she stirred the depths of his heart—I +excited his intellect; she was his darling—I, his sphinx.'</p> + +<p>'Are you sure it is not all a dream?'</p> + +<p>'I have not closed my eyes to-day.'</p> + +<p>I did not know what to say to her. I still thought what she had related +was but a delusion, but to her it was a reality, and I knew her outward +calmness was but the expression of intense excitement of mind. Thinking +I might divert her mind, I read to her a letter I had received but a few +minutes before. It was from my sister, who had just returned from +Europe, with her husband and children; and had taken a house in our +native village. She wished me to come to her at once. At any other time +Miriam would have manifested the greatest interest in this +communication. It had been a source of regret to her that I was +separated from this sister, who was the only near relative I had. Now +she sat, perfectly unmoved, gazing out into the sunshine as if it +bewildered her. I did not know whether she had heard a word I said. I +laid down the letter, and took up a book, glancing at her occasionally. +I continued reading for about two hours, while she sat there as if +turned to stone. Then she turned to me and said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[Pg 592]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Hester, would you not like to see your sister very much?'</p> + +<p>'Very much.'</p> + +<p>'Then let us return home at once.'</p> + +<p>'I am very willing.'</p> + +<p>'Mr. Sydenham leaves here to-morrow night for New York. Let us go with +him.'</p> + +<p>I hesitated. It seemed such a hasty departure from the friends who had +been so kind to us, but a glance at the pale, eager face of Miriam +decided me. I consented.</p> + +<p>The nest day brought a letter from Ackermann. Miriam showed it to me. It +was the only letter of his I was ever permitted to read. It was a good +letter—very lover-like, but earnest and manly. It seemed to me the +truth of the writer was palpable in every line.</p> + +<p>'Of course this has removed all your doubts,' I said, as I returned the +letter to Miriam.</p> + +<p>'It has not shaken my faith in the evidence of the finest of my senses,' +was her only reply.</p> + +<p>Since we had left our pretty little village, a railroad track had been +laid through, it. The depot was near Annie's house. As we had apprised +no one of our arrival, we found ourselves alone on the platform when we +stepped out of the cars.</p> + +<p>'Let us call and see Annie,' said Miriam.</p> + +<p>'Before you visit your father and mother?' said I, surprised.</p> + +<p>'This is the hour Ackermann usually visits her.'</p> + +<p>'I will go with you.'</p> + +<p>It was but a few minutes' walk. We felt perfectly at home there. We +opened the front door, and walked in without ceremony. No one was in the +front rooms. We passed quickly through them into the little room at the +foot of the back stairs. I noticed the furniture as soon as I entered. +It was new, and was arranged pretty much as Miriam had described it. +Ackermann and Annie stood by the window looking into the garden. I am +not sure, but I think he was holding her hand. They turned as we +entered, and, for a few minutes, were speechless with amazement. Annie +was the first to recover herself.</p> + +<p>'What a delightful surprise!' she exclaimed, running toward us; but she +stopped before she was half across the room. Something in Miriam's +manner arrested her. Ackermann's perceptions were quicker. He saw at one +glance that Miriam knew all, and, though very much agitated, he stood, +looking defiantly at her. She took no notice of Annie, but said to +Ackermann:</p> + +<p>'I trusted you. You have deceived me. I believed in your love so fully +that I would have been yours faithfully until death. You lightly threw +mine away. I thought your words of love so sacred that I kept them hid +in my heart from the sight of the most faithful friends. You have made +mine the subjects of jest. But I do not come here to reproach you. +Henceforth you are nothing to me. I came to demand my ring.'</p> + +<p>'I have no ring of yours,' said he, with calm decision. 'This ring that +I wear you put upon my finger, and told me not to part with it under +<i>any</i> circumstances. You charged me to wear it until death. It is mine. +I will not part with it, even to you.'</p> + +<p>Miriam looked at him incredulously for a moment. Her fortitude began to +give way.</p> + +<p>'I do not know,' she said slowly, 'why you wish to keep that ring. You +can never look at it without thinking of me, and of the words of love I +have spoken to you. It is hateful to me to think that you have anything +to remind you of the past. For this reason I want the ring. I will not +wear it. I will not keep it. I will destroy it utterly. But by the +memory of my past trust, I beseech you to give me that ring.'</p> + +<p>A sneer curled the lip of Ackermann.</p> + +<p>'I will not give it to you!' he said, decidedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[Pg 593]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miriam did not look at him now, but at the ring. It glowed on his hand +like a flame; for it was set with a cluster of diamonds.</p> + +<p>'It will ruin you,' she said, raising her eyes slowly, and fixing them +on his face. 'It will be your curse.'</p> + +<p>She turned and left the room. Ackermann looked displeased, and annoyed. +Annie was pale and frightened. I did not know whether to follow Miriam, +or remain to hear Annie's explanations. I finally decided to do neither, +and, walking out of the open window into the garden, I took another +route to my sister's.</p> + +<p>They say that no nature is thoroughly evil, that every man has some +redeeming qualities. This is probably true, and I suppose Ackermann had +his virtues, but I was never able to discover any. The only sides of his +character presented to my observation were evil, and wholly evil. He +loved Annie, it is true, but it was an unnatural, selfish, exacting +love. Such a love is a curse to any woman, and it was doubly so to +Annie, who loved him too entirely to see any faults in him, and was too +weak minded to resist his merciless exactions. So thoroughly selfish was +he that, notwithstanding his love for Annie, he would have married +Miriam if she had not so peremptorily broken the engagement. Miriam was +very wealthy, while Annie was comparatively poor. Ackermann himself was +worth nothing. Why he persisted in keeping the ring I never knew, unless +it was that Miriam's proud contempt and indifference roused his +malignant temper to oppose her in the only way which lay in his power. +He possessed the art of making himself agreeable, and had a very fair +seeming, so that when his engagement to Annie was made public, she was +warmly congratulated. His former engagement to Miriam was unknown, even +to her own parents.</p> + +<p>I saw but little of Ackermann and Annie, and never met them but in +public. His wickedness and her weakness made them both contemptible in +my eyes. And my mind was occupied in other matters. Miriam resolved to +make the tour of Europe, and I was to accompany her—for she would take +no denial. For many weeks we were busied in preparations for our +departure; Miriam had settled all her affairs satisfactorily, and we +were thinking of making the last farewells, when she was taken ill. The +doctors said it was an organic disease of the heart. This was an +hereditary disease in the family, but Miriam up to the time of her +acquaintance with Ackermann had been entirely free from any symptom of +it, or of any particular disease whatever. Whether this sudden +exhibition of it was the effect of natural causes, or was produced by +mortified love and pride, I leave the reader to conclude.</p> + +<p>I was her constant attendant during her sickness. She could scarcely +bear me out of her sight. She had never spoken to me of Ackermann since +the interview in Annie's room. Now she seemed to take delight in talking +about him, and I was amazed at the intense hatred with which she +regarded him. She was gentle and patient under her sufferings, and +tender and loving at all times, except when speaking of him. Then all +the bad passions of her nature were aroused. It was in vain that I +represented to her that at such a time she should endeavor to be at +peace with all the world, and forgive as she hoped to be forgiven.</p> + +<p>'If I have sinned against my God, as Henry Ackermann has sinned against +me, I neither expect or wish to be forgiven,'—was the only reply she +would make to such arguments. She had not the slightest feeling of ill +will against Annie; she spoke of her as a misguided, loving girl; but +often repeated the assertion that Ackermann and Annie would never be +married.</p> + +<p>The physicians were inclined to think that Miriam would recover from +this attack, but she knew, she said, that she must die, and she exacted +a promise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[Pg 594]</a></span> from me that I would watch over her body until it was +consigned to the grave, imploring me not to let indifferent people be +with her after death. I readily gave the promise, little knowing what a +fearful obligation I was taking upon myself.</p> + +<p>One morning I left Miriam's bedside, and walked through the village in +order to get some exercise, and breathe the fresh air. I remember the +day well. It was in the latter part of May—a warm, sweet, sunny day, +with enough of chilliness in the air to give a zest to walking. I was +surprised at the ripeness and luxuriance of the foliage, so early for a +New England spring; but I was still more surprised at the aspect of our +usually silent village. The streets were full of men hurrying to and +fro, and groups of men, and women, too, stood at some of the corners. To +my utter amazement I learned that Annie had disappeared mysteriously the +night before. She had left home alone early in the evening, saying she +was going to the river, and had not returned. Search was made for her +during the night in all the houses of the village; that morning the +river had been dragged; but not the slightest trace of Annie was +anywhere to be found. Of course everybody was in a state of intense +excitement. Ackermann was represented to me as almost distracted with +grief, but he had been active in conducting the search for her.</p> + +<p>I thought it best to tell this to Miriam as soon as I returned. It +produced a strange effect upon her. It gave her a most intense desire +for life.</p> + +<p>'I do not desire life for myself,' said she to me, the next day, 'nor +for any happiness it could confer upon me, for it has no gift that I +value; but I wish to live that I may show Ackermann to the world, as he +is, false, and cruel, and revengeful. I feel that I would have the power +to do it, had I but health and strength; but what can a dead body do? +Can the soul return to it again? Where does the soul go?'</p> + +<p>I made no reply to this. I had gone over this ground very often with +Miriam. It was not strange that one who had had such remarkable mental +experiences should be a believer in spiritual agencies. She was also a +firm believer in all the doctrines of the Bible, but she always +maintained that this sacred book nowhere taught that the soul, on its +release from the body, went directly to heaven. She argued that it was +<i>impossible</i> for it to go there immediately. Then where did it go? These +ideas disposed her to a mystical kind of reading, with which I did not +sympathize, and in which I never indulged.</p> + +<p>I stood at the window some time, looking out, but seeing nothing, for I +was thinking how strange it was that two girls so entirely opposite as +Miriam and Annie should love the same man, and he so different from +both. I was aroused by Miriam's voice hurriedly calling me. I hastened +to her side. Never shall I forget her eyes as she fixed them upon me. +The pupils were dilated, and intensely black, while they shone so +brilliantly that it seemed as if a fire were burning within them. She +spoke eagerly:</p> + +<p>'Promise me once more, Hester, that you will not leave my body, after +the soul has left it, until it is laid in the grave, and that you will +not let idle curiosity come and gaze at it.'</p> + +<p>I readily gave her this promise, thinking it was very little to do for a +dying friend. The unnatural expression faded from her eyes. She seemed +entirely satisfied.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon that I was aroused from a sound sleep by +the intelligence that Miriam was dead. She died while asleep, without a +struggle, or a groan. I called in Mrs. Grove, the housekeeper, who had +been devotedly attached to Miriam, and we dressed her in a white robe, +and scattered fragrant flowers around her, to take away, if possible, +the horror and ghastliness of death. She did not look at all like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[Pg 595]</a></span> the +Miriam I had known and loved. Her features were sharp and pinched, and +her face looked careworn, and <i>anxious</i>—if anything so lifeless can be +said to have expression.</p> + +<p>No one came into the room that evening but the family, and they retired +early, and left me alone with the dead. Mrs. Grove sat up all night in +the dining room, which was separated from Miriam's room by a narrow +entry. She would have remained with me, but I saw that she was very +nervous and timid, and insisted that she should leave me. I could not +understand her feeling. I felt not the slightest fear of the inanimate +body before me, or of the disembodied spirit. She had been my friend +during her whole life—why should she harm me now?</p> + +<p>I put out the light, and seated myself by the open window at the foot of +the bed. The round, full moon, in a cloudless sky, made every object in +the room and out of it as distinct as in the day. I looked at the +fountain, which spun its threads of light under the window; and at the +little flowers just peeping above the ground; and at the foliage, with +its many-shaded green; and occasionally I looked at the body stretched +upon the bed. And each time that I looked it seemed to me that it gently +stirred. This did not startle me at all, for I was accustomed to the +appearance of death. Who that has lost a friend does not find it +impossible to realize that the form is utterly without life? And who has +ever gazed long at a corpse without fancying that it moved? So again and +again I looked at Miriam, and again and again I fancied there was a +slight motion, scarcely perceptible. At last the constant repetition of +this feeling made me uneasy, and to quiet my mind, and satisfy myself +that it was only <i>seeming</i>, I went to the bed and bent over Miriam.</p> + +<p>My blood ran cold in my veins, as I encountered the eyes of Miriam, +open, dilated, and black, fixed upon mine! There was a strange light in +them. It scarcely looked like life, and yet it surely could not be +death. It seemed more like a light shining far down some black and deep +sepulchre. Half frenzied with terror, and scarcely knowing what I did, I +forced down the eyelids and shut out that hateful light; but the instant +I removed my fingers the eyes opened upon me again. This time it seemed +the expression was more life-like—there was <i>eagerness</i> in it. Again I +pressed down the eyelids, but now there was resistance to my touch. I +could feel it. The hands, which had lain quiet on her breast, were +convulsively raised. I stepped back from the bed, and Miriam sat +upright! Incredible as it may appear, the frenzy of my terror was gone. +Miriam looked like herself. The ghastly pallor of death, the sunken +cheek, the pinched features were all there; but there was something in +the face which made me think of the Miriam of olden days—the Miriam I +had known before this last terrible sickness came upon her. I was not +entirely free from fear, but it was a charmed fear. I never thought of +calling any one. I could do nothing but watch Miriam.</p> + +<p>After a few convulsive efforts she got off the bed, and stood erect for +a moment. I remember thinking that all this was very strange, and +wondering what she would do next. She moved slowly to the door. I +followed her with my eyes. At the door she turned, and looked at me. And +then there rushed upon my mind the whole weight and responsibility of +the promise I had made her, that I would never leave her body until it +was consigned to the tomb! I comprehended that I must follow her, and +mechanically I obeyed the impulse. She took her way through the dining +room. Mrs. Grove was sitting in an easy-chair, fast asleep. I wondered +how she could sleep with this awful presence in the room. Miriam did not +glance at her, but passed out of the front door, into the street.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[Pg 596]</a></span> My +mind was in a constant state of activity. My will was under the guidance +of Miriam. I had no control over it. My thoughts were my own, and +wandered from object to object. As we were passing down the steps I +thought how beautifully the river would look in the moonlight; but +Miriam turned in an opposite direction from the river, and I was +disappointed. How fearfully quiet was everything! I would have given +worlds, had I possessed them, if I could have seen a familiar face. I +even had a half-formed thought to scream loudly for help, but I could +not do it. My will was utterly powerless. We approached the house where +Ackermann resided, and I was seized with horror, thinking it possible +that she might murder him while I witnessed the bloody deed, powerless +to prevent it. But she never once looked at the house while passing it. +This phantom—whatever it might be—seemed to be entirely free from +human feelings. I do not think this idea tended to reassure me, and when +we left the closely built street, and merged into the open country, +where the fields stretched away on every side of us, with no life in +them, and where loneliness and desolation reigned supreme, I felt a new +terror, and longed to turn, and flee back to human life. But no! I must +follow my conductress wherever she chose to lead me!</p> + +<p>Miriam walked slowly at first, but had increased her speed as she +proceeded, and now she was walking so swiftly that I could scarcely keep +pace with her. I saw white marbles gleaming among the trees at the top +of a hill, and knew that we were approaching the graveyard. It was a +dreary-looking place—a disgrace to the village. The stone wall was in a +dilapidated condition, and in some places there were gaps in it. The +graves were overgrown with rank weeds, and many old gray tombstones lay +on the ground. The gate was swinging loosely on its hinges, and we +passed swiftly through it. And now, thought I, the mystery is solved. +Miriam is going to bury herself, and has brought me to fill the grave, +so that no one may see her body but me, I can never, never do it, if she +fixes those terrible eyes upon me! An open grave lay in our pathway. The +red clay soil, which was heaped around it, was moist. I felt my feet +sink in it as we passed over it—for around the grave we went on our +swift, unerring course—although I knew the grave had been that day dug +for Miriam! Did she know this? If so, she gave no sign of that +knowledge, and I breathed more freely when we were fairly out of the +graveyard. On the other side of it was a thick wood, into which I had +never penetrated. Indeed the thorny thickets, and low, poisonous bushes +made it impenetrable to any one, and yet it was into this wood that +Miriam led the way. How we pushed through it I do not know. My clothes +were nearly torn into rags, and so were Miriam's. My flesh was torn also +in several places. I had no means of knowing whether hers was torn also.</p> + +<p>At last she stopped before a mass of—but my heart grows sick and my +brain dizzy when I think of that—I cannot describe it, but I knew by +unmistakable evidences that the lost Annie was found!</p> + +<p>I looked at Miriam, but she did not return my glance. I could not see +her face. She stopped only a moment, and continued her walk. And now I +followed fearlessly. As soon as I discovered that the phantom had a +<i>human</i> purpose, my terror abated. I was now in a state of feverish +excitement, wondering what other discoveries would be made. Our way lay +along the bank of a little brook. The space was more open. The weeds and +bushes had evidently been trampled down, and broken away. Miriam walked +more slowly, and looked upon the ground. At last she again paused, and +pointed with a rigid, bony finger to a little alder twig, which was +trembling in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_597" id="Page_597">[Pg 597]</a></span> breeze. I could see nothing there but a dewdrop +sparkling in the moonlight; but, obeying the impulse of my will, which +was in obedience to Miriam, I stooped to touch the dewdrop, and instead, +I took off the twig—a ring! It was the diamond ring, which Miriam had +given to Ackermann. I clutched it in my hand, and turned to Miriam, but +she was retracing her steps.</p> + +<p>I remember nothing of the return home. I saw nothing, felt nothing. I +seemed to be sailing through the air, so exhilarated was I. I can +compare my state to nothing but that of a person who has been taking +ether. I took but little notice of Miriam, until we entered the village, +when I observed that she walked more slowly. After a time it seemed to +be an effort to her to walk at all, until finally she tottered, and fell +close by her own door. I stood an instant, and looked at her. She lay on +the step, a stiff and rigid corpse. Her eyes were open, but they were +fixed in the glassy stare of death! I ran into the house. Mrs. Grove was +in the dining room, sleeping heavily. I was about to awaken her, when I +remembered that I would have to account for the strange fact of the body +lying at the front door. How could I tell Mrs. Grove, who had showed +herself to be a weak and nervous woman, the wonderful story of our night +walk? Would she be able to help me if she knew it? I thought of calling +upon Miriam's father, but that seemed horrible. These thoughts rushed +through my mind with the rapidity of lightning, and I ran out of the +door again, not knowing what to do. A man was standing on the step: I +suppose he happened to be passing, and stopped in amazement at the +sight; but I did not pause to look at him, or ask him any questions. I +had no time to give him explanations, for I saw the gray dawn was +breaking in the eastern sky, and feared that soon other persons might +come along the street. I gave him a confused and hurried account of how +we had thought Miriam dead, and how she had walked that far, and fallen; +and I begged him to help me carry her in the house. He consented, and +then I remembered that there was a side door, which was near Miriam's +room, and if we carried the body through that we should avoid waking +Mrs. Grove. I passed silently through the dining room, and, having +unbolted the door, I returned, and lifted the body of my poor friend in +my arms, while the stranger raised her head. And thus we carried her in +the house, and laid her on the bed. I smoothed her dishevelled hair, and +arranged her torn dress, forgetting that any one else was in the room, +until I was startled by a groan. And then for the first time I looked at +the stranger. It was Ackermann!</p> + +<p>My fingers involuntarily closed tighter around the ring, which, all this +time, I had kept shut up in my hand. Not for the world would I have had +him to see it then. I was more afraid of him than I had been of Miriam +during all our journey. She might be called an Avenging Angel. He was a +destroying Fiend.</p> + +<p>He trembled violently. He laid his hand heavily upon my arm. It was as +cold as ice, and made a chilly horror creep over me.</p> + +<p>'Tell me, Hester,' he said, in a hoarse voice, 'what is the meaning of +this? You and Miriam have been farther than the front door, or your +clothes would not be in this cut and ragged condition. Why do you look +at me so strangely—so horribly? Speak to me! Speak!'</p> + +<p>I longed to show him the ring, and confront him then with his horrid +crimes, but he looked so fiercely I dared not. It is well that I did +not. I know not what might have been the result. Justice might have been +cheated of her proper prey, and I not have been here to write this tale. +I made my escape from the room, and left him with his dead victim.</p> + +<p>I have a confused recollection of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_598" id="Page_598">[Pg 598]</a></span> being surrounded with pale and eager +faces, and of telling them my wonderful story, and showing them the +ring. And then I remember nothing more for many hours, for I fell into a +heavy sleep.</p> + +<p>That night, so full of horrors, did not turn my hair white, or make me +ill, or cause me to lose my reason. I was subject to a nervous +irritability for some time afterward, but that passed away, and the only +feeling I have left to remind me of that terrible night is my aversion +to sit up with a dead body. I have never done it since.</p> + +<p>The route that Miriam and I had followed was carefully traced. Our +tracks were not discernible until the graveyard was nearly reached. +There they found the print of our shoes in the wet gravel; and in the +loose soil around the newly dug grave. On Annie was found a note from +Ackermann appointing a meeting with her on that evening when she had so +mysteriously disappeared.</p> + +<p>Ackermann was arrested and brought to trial. When he learned the nature +of the evidence against him it seemed to fill him with a superstitious +horror, which drew from him a full confession of his guilt, although, at +first, he protested his innocence. He gave in his confession, and met +his ignominious death with the same bold front and reckless daring he +had manifested during all his life.</p> + +<p>It only remains to tell how Ackermann was led to murder a woman he +loved—for he certainly loved Annie. It seems that Annie, in her light, +trifling way, had seriously wounded him by flirting with one of her +former suitors. He remonstrated, but his evident distress only urged the +giddy girl to further trials of her power. And she had an object in +arousing his jealousy, for she too was jealous of Miriam's ring. He +persisted in wearing it, notwithstanding her entreaties, and she feared +some lingering affection for the giver gave rise to the reluctance to +part with the gift. On the night of the murder, high words had passed +between them in regard to it. In the heat of the discussion, Annie had +managed dexterously to slip the ring off his finger. He struggled to +regain it. She threw it away. The quarrel now grew more violent, until +at last, in his rage, and as unconscious of what he was doing as an +intoxicated man, he struck the fatal blow, and Annie fell dead at his +feet. In the midst of his horror and remorse—for even he was filled +with horror at such a deed—he thought of himself, and provided for his +safety by hiding the body among the thorny and poisonous bushes, knowing +it would be more unlikely to be found there than if he threw it into the +river, or dug a grave for it. Creeping carefully in and out among the +thick, thorny bushes, so as to disarrange them as little as possible, he +first deposited his dead burden, and then returned to the place of the +last fatal struggle, that he might look for the lost ring.</p> + +<p>The moon had risen, and he could see every object with great +distinctness. He looked carefully along the ground, pushing aside the +weeds, and removing every stone under which it might have rolled. After +a few minutes' search he became conscious that some one else was looking +for the ring! He was angry with himself for entertaining such a +delusion; but still, in spite of his efforts to get rid of it, the +feeling continued. He had a dim and vague idea that something impalpable +was near him, now by his side, now before him, <i>never behind him</i>, +looking as eagerly and as anxiously as himself for the lost diamonds. He +inwardly cursed his own cowardice, for he thought this apparition was +born from his guilty conscience, and he determined to pay no heed to it.</p> + +<p>At last he approached a cluster of alder bushes, which he now remembered +to have been the place where Annie threw away the ring. He was about to +commence a search among these, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_599" id="Page_599">[Pg 599]</a></span> suddenly Miriam stood between him +and the bushes. He saw her distinctly for a moment, and then she +vanished from his gaze. He pursued her in the direction she had taken, +but no trace of her could he find. Then, recollecting how very ill she +was, he became convinced that he had become subject to an optical +illusion. But he had now become fearful and nervous, and dared not +return to the spot to renew the search. And thus it was that the ring +was left upon the twig of alder to bear witness against him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NAPOLEONS_TOMB" id="NAPOLEONS_TOMB"></a>NAPOLEON'S TOMB.</h2> + +<p class='center'><i>Written by</i> <span class="smcap">Hon. Robert J. Walker</span> (<i>then a student</i>) <i>in 1821, +on hearing of the death of Napoleon</i>.<br /><br /></p> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See where amid the Ocean's surging tide</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A little island lifts its desert side,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where storms on storms in ceaseless torrents pour,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And howling billows lash its rocky shore—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There lies Napoleon in his island tomb:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nations combined to antedate his doom.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mars nursed the infant in a thundercloud,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">France gave him empire, Britain wrought his shroud.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Danger and glory claimed him as their own,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Fortune marked him as her favorite son;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Science seemed dozing in eternal sleep,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And superstition brooded o'er the deep;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Black was the midnight of the human soul,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such Gothic darkness shrouds the icy pole:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Napoleon bade his conquering legions pour</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The blaze of battle on from shore to shore:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though blood and havoc marked the victor's way,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blest Science shed her genial ray.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Betrayed, not conquered, round the hero's sleep</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Arts shall mourn, and Genius vigil keep.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_600" id="Page_600">[Pg 600]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DESTINY_OF_THE_AFRICAN_RACE_IN_THE_UNITED_STATES" id="THE_DESTINY_OF_THE_AFRICAN_RACE_IN_THE_UNITED_STATES"></a>THE DESTINY OF THE AFRICAN RACE IN THE UNITED STATES.</h2> + + +<p>Many persons may be disposed to receive with a large share of scepticism +the affirmation that there is an aspect of the 'negro question,' which +has not, within the last thirty years of ceaseless agitation, undergone +a thorough discussion. Yet such an assertion would be perfectly true. +There is one side of that question, at which, during all the fierce +excitements of the time, we have scarcely looked; and which many, even +those who have taken an active and leading part in the controversy, have +not carefully studied.</p> + +<p>The morality of our system of slavery has been fully and thoroughly +discussed, and may be considered as finally and forever settled, in the +judgment of all right-minded and impartial men throughout Christendom. +It may henceforth be taken as the <i>consensus omnium gentium</i>, that men +and women, with their children and their children's children forever, +cannot rightfully be made, by human laws, chattels personal and articles +of merchandise.</p> + +<p>The economy of slavery has been discussed. Its relations to wealth, to +industry, to commerce, manufactures, and the arts, as well as to +education, public intelligence, and public morals, are so well +understood, that it is not probable that the efforts even of Jefferson +Davis, or the whole 'Southern confederacy,' with the aid of such +transatlantic allies as the London <i>Times</i>, will be able, in respect to +such matters as these, to change or even to unsettle the judgment of +mankind.</p> + +<p>But there is another class of questions on which the public mind is as +unthoughtful and unenlightened, as in respect to these it is thoughtful +and intelligent. We have pretty well considered what consequences may be +expected from the continuance of slavery; but we have neglected to +inquire, on the supposition of the emancipation of the negro, what will +be his condition, what his future, and what his influence on our +national destiny. Upon such questions as these, we have, during the +controversy, dogmatized much, and thought little. They have called forth +many outbursts of passion, but very little calm, thoughtful discussion.</p> + +<p>There is no lack of earnest and confident opinions in the public mind in +relation to this class of questions. It is in respect to this very side +of the negro question, that prejudices the most intense and inveterate +are widely prevalent; prejudices, too, which have exerted the most +decisive influence on the controversy, through every stage of its +progress. The masses of the American people believe in those principles +of political equality upon which all our constitutions are founded. They +not only believe in them, but they cherish and love them. They perceive, +too, by a kind of instinct, what many a would-be philosopher has failed +to see, that the application and carrying out of those principles +necessarily involve the fusion of the entire mass to which they are +applied, into one homogeneous whole; that we cannot have a government +founded on political equality, consistently with our having an inferior +and proscribed class of citizens; a class from whose daughters our sons +may not take their wives, and to whose sons we are not willing, either +in this or in any future generation, to give our daughters in marriage. +Political equality implies that the son of any parents may be raised to +the highest offices in the government, and wear the most brilliant +honors which a free people can confer. And the masses of the people +instinctively see, or rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_601" id="Page_601">[Pg 601]</a></span> feel, that it is impossible to admit to +such equality a class to whom we deny, and always intend to deny all +equality in the social state; and with whom we are shocked at the very +thought of ever uniting our race and our blood.</p> + +<p>I am not now saying where the moral right of this matter lies; or +whether, in this inveterate hostility to a social equality with the +negro, the masses of the people are right or wrong. I am only affirming, +what certainly cannot be successfully denied, that while they retain and +cherish it, they will never be willing to apply to him this doctrine of +political equality. They will always resist it, as carrying with it, by +inevitable consequence, that social equality to which they are +determined never to submit. If the doctrine of political equality, so +fundamental, to our system of government, is ever to be extended so as +to embrace the colored man, it can only be done by overcoming and +utterly obliterating this social aversion.</p> + +<p>If it were proved to be ever so desirable to effect such a change in the +tastes and prejudices of the American people, history does not lend any +countenance to the belief that it is possible. Wherever one people has +conquered another, the conquerors and their descendants have always +asserted for themselves a political superiority for ages; and that +political superiority has extended itself into all the relations of +social life. This has taken place with such uniformity, as to impress +upon the mind the belief that it occurs in obedience to some great law +of human nature, which may be expected to baffle all attempts at +resistance in the future, as it has done in the past. The testimony of +history is, that equality can be the law of national life only when the +nation was originally formed from equal elements. But two peoples never +met on the same soil, and under the same government, under conditions so +widely unequal as the European and the African populations of this +country. The Europeans are, to a great extent, the descendants of the +most enlightened men of the world, heirs by birth to the highest +civilization of the nineteenth century. The Africans, on the contrary, +are the known descendants of parents who were taken by force from their +own country, and brought hither as merchandise, sold as chattels and +beasts of burden to the highest bidder; and have even now no +civilization except what they have acquired in this condition of abject +slavery; separated, too, from the dominant class, not only by this +stigma of slavery, but by complexion and features so marked and +peculiar, that a small taint of the blood of the servile class can be +detected with unerring certainty. If history decides anything, it is +that a system of political equality cannot be formed out of such +elements. The experience of the world is against it.</p> + +<p>This deeply seated aversion to the recognition of the equality of the +white man and the black man is a potent force, which has been +incessantly active in all our history, and furnishes the only +satisfactory explanation of the fact that slavery did not perish, at +least from all the Northern slave-holding States, long ago. There is, +especially in the Border Slave States, a large non-slave-holding class, +who know that the existence of slavery is utterly prejudicial to their +interests and destructive of their prosperity as free laborers. They are +so keenly sensible of this, that they regard with almost equal hatred +the system of slavery, the negro, and the slave owner. But one +consideration, which is never absent from their minds, always prevails, +even over their regard for their own interests, and receives their +steady and invariable coöperation with the slave owner in perpetuating +the enslavement of the colored man. That consideration is the dread of +negro equality. If, say they, the colored man becomes a freeman, then +why not entitled to all the privileges and franchises which other +freemen en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_602" id="Page_602">[Pg 602]</a></span>joy? And if admitted to political, then surely to social +equality also.</p> + +<p>And to many it seems perfectly clear that the universal emancipation of +the negro carries with it by inevitable necessity his admission to the +full enjoyment of all equality, political and social, and his becoming +homogeneous with the mass of the American people; and the fact that they +think so is the only adequate explanation of the inflexible energy of +will with which they resist all measures which are supposed to tend in +the smallest degree toward emancipation. And they think themselves able +to give unanswerable reasons for the bitterness with which they note +everything which is expressed by the word 'abolitionism.' They assume it +for a fact, which admits no contradiction, that the natural increase of +the negro race in this country is more rapid than that of the white man. +So far as my observation extends, the great majority of the people +believe this with an undoubting faith. It is constantly asserted in +conversation, and in the most exaggerated form in newspaper paragraphs; +although (as I shall presently show) a mere glance at our census tables +disproves it. It is also assumed, with a faith equally undoubting, that +if the slaves were all emancipated, the negro race would still increase +as rapidly in freedom as in slavery. Emancipation, it is said, would at +once cast upon the country four millions and a half of free negroes; and +by the rapidity of their increase, they would, at no distant day, become +a majority of the whole population.</p> + +<p>If then, it is further argued, you emancipate them, and yet withhold +from them a full participation in all our political privileges, they +will be hostile to our government, a great nation of aliens in the midst +of us, who would be the natural enemies of our institutions. An +internecine war of races, it is said, must follow. Even here it would be +well for persons who entertain such gloomy apprehensions, to remember +that if these assumptions were all true (though I will show in the +sequel that they are not), even then, emancipation could not make of the +negroes more dangerous enemies to our institutions than slavery has made +of the masters. It is also said that the only possible mode of escaping +all these horrible results, would be to admit the negro, if he must be +freed, to all the privileges and franchises of the Constitution, and +amalgamate him entirely with the mass of American society. Thus it is +taken for proved that emancipation would carry with it the equality of +the negro and the white man in all their relations.</p> + +<p>I believe it to be true beyond reasonable doubt, that the great majority +of the American people do at this time accept this substantially as +their creed on the question of emancipation. They do not mean to justify +slavery; they abhor and hate it; they regard it as economically, +socially, politically, and morally wrong. But they regard emancipation +as tending directly and inevitably to incorporate the negro into the +mass of American society, and compel us to treat him as homogeneous with +it. To such a solution of the question they feel an unconquerable +aversion. It shocks their taste; it violates their notions of propriety +and fitness; they resist it by a sort of instinct, rather than from set +conviction and purpose.</p> + +<p>Nor is there one man in a thousand of us, who is not conscious in +himself of a certain degree of sympathy with this view of the subject, +however much we may think that we morally disapprove it. With enslaving +the negro, and reducing him to an article of merchandise, or depriving +him of one of those moral rights which God has given him as a man, we +have no sympathy. But if, in full view of a proposition to break down +all the social barriers which now divide the races, so that our +descendants and those of the colored man shall form one homogeneous +people, we interrogate our own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_603" id="Page_603">[Pg 603]</a></span> consciousness, we shall discover that +we, even those of us who have most eloquently and indignantly denounced +'prejudice against color,' are compelled to own ourselves in sympathy +with the great mass of the American people, in utter and unconquerable +aversion to such an arrangement.</p> + +<p>It is probable that this article may fall into the hands of some friends +of mine whose judgment I greatly respect, and whose feelings I should be +most reluctant to wound, to whom these sentiments will at first view be +far from agreeable. But for many years I have entertained them with +undoubting confidence of their truth; and at this solemn crisis of our +nation's destiny it becomes us to lay aside all our prejudices, and to +endeavor to reach the truth on this momentous question. I repeat it: +this side of the subject has not been fairly met and considered in this +discussion. The time has come when we must meet it. Emancipation is an +indispensable condition of the restoration and perpetuity of the Union, +perhaps even of our continued national existence. The one great +objection to emancipation, in the minds of the people, North and South, +is the belief, so confidently and even obstinately entertained, that it +carries with it as an inevitable consequence, either an internecine war +of races, which would destroy us, or the amalgamation of our race and +blood with that of the negro. If we mean, as practical men and +statesmen, to seek our country's salvation by means of emancipation, we +must, in some way, relieve the national mind from the pressure of this +objection. Till we do so, the masses of the people will say to us: 'We +do not approve of slavery; we abhor it; but if we are to have the negro +among us, we believe in keeping him in slavery.' All of us, who are in +the habit of talking with the people on this subject, know that almost +in these very words we are met at every street corner. We must answer +it, or in some form slavery will still continue to be the curse of our +country, and to hurry it on to an untimely and ignominious end.</p> + +<p>Let it be distinctly borne in mind that it is not the <i>moral</i> equality +of the negro to the white man, which is under consideration. That indeed +is only indirectly assailed by the inveterate national prejudice of +which I speak. Those masses of the people who have no pecuniary interest +in slavery, trample on the moral rights of the colored man only because +they are made to believe themselves placed under the hard necessity of +doing so, in order to resist any approach toward that political and +social equality with him to which they are determined never to submit. +Show them how they can concede to him the former without conceding the +latter, and they will gladly do it. For myself, nothing can be added to +the intensity of my conviction not only that the colored man must be +protected in the full enjoyment of all the moral rights of humanity, as +a condition of our prolonged national existence; but that the masses of +the people never will consent to a political and social equality with +the negro race.</p> + +<p>How then can the public mind be assured that to emancipate the enslaved +race, to confer on them all the moral rights of humanity, does not +involve by any necessity or even remote probability, either an +internecine war of races on our own soil, or the fusion of the two races +into one homogeneous people? One answer, which satisfies many, is, the +freedmen must be colonized in some unoccupied region of the earth, where +they may be separated from the white man, and build up for themselves an +independent and homogeneous nationality. I have no controversy with this +proposed solution of the difficulty, or with the excellent men who are +advocating and promoting it, with an earnest patriotism worthy of all +honor. But I have grave doubts of the adequacy of this solution to meet +the momentous exigencies of the present crisis.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_604" id="Page_604">[Pg 604]</a></span> At least, I feel no +necessity of resting the whole cause upon it, when there is another +solution at hand, which certainly is adequate, furnished by the very +laws of nature which the Creator has established, and so certain in its +operation, that we have only to strike the fetters from the limbs of the +poor slave, and recognize his manhood, and God will take care of the +rest, and protect our country from the evils we have so much dreaded.</p> + +<p>That solution is found in a great law of population. It is necessary, +therefore, that I should state this law, and prove its reality, and its +adequacy to meet all the necessities of the case in hand.</p> + +<p>Whenever two peoples, one of which is little removed from barbarism, and +the other having the full strength of a mature civilization, are placed +in juxtaposition with each other, on terms of free labor and free +competition, the stronger will always either amalgamate itself with the +weaker, or extinguish it. In the former case, civilization undergoes an +eclipse, almost an extinction. The homogeneous people resulting from +such a union, occupies a position in the scale of civilization much +nearer to that of their barbarous than that of their civilized parents. +Numerous and conclusive examples of this have occurred in the progress +of the French, Spanish, and Portuguese colonies in proximity to the +various native tribes of this continent. They have generally amalgamated +freely with their savage neighbors; and a deep eclipse of civilization +has in every instance resulted. When that eclipse is to end, we have not +the foresight to determine.</p> + +<p>The English colonies, on the other hand, in all parts of the world, have +steadily refused to enter into any marriage relations with their +barbarous neighbors, or to recognize as belonging to their community any +half-breeds springing from licentious and illicit connection with them. +Here, too, the results are almost entirely uniform. The extinction of +such barbarous tribes brought within the sphere of their competition has +been rapid and almost if not absolutely invariable; while the English +colonies themselves have preserved the civilization of the parent stock +in almost undiminished vigor.</p> + +<p>A mere general view of the history of European colonization in barbarous +regions of the earth, does therefore afford a very striking proof of the +truth of my proposition. And it is much to our purpose here to remark, +that the very aversion to incorporating the negro into our nationality, +which is so firmly fixed in the minds of the masses of the people, is no +new thing in our history, and no outgrowth of slavery. It is the same +national characteristic which, in all parts of the world, has prevented +the English colonist from intermarrying with his barbarous neighbor. +Call it by what hard name you please, call it 'prejudice against color,' +and denounce it as eloquently and indignantly as you may, it is one of +the most remarkable and one of the most respectable features of the +English colonies wherever found, and one of the chief causes of their +preëminence over those of other European nations, in civilization, +wealth, and power. But what it is chiefly to our purpose to remark is, +that while it is to the colonies themselves the cause of unequalled +prosperity and rapidity of growth in all the elements of national +greatness, to their savage neighbors it is the cause of rapid and +certain extinction.</p> + +<p>Precisely in such relations to each other will the white and colored +populations of the United States be placed by an act of universal +emancipation, the substitution of free labor and free competition for +the compulsory power of the master. And while on the one hand the +history of the colonial off-shoots of England shows that the +amalgamation of the races will not follow, it shows with equal clearness +and certainty that the rapid extinction of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_605" id="Page_605">[Pg 605]</a></span> colored race will +follow. Here I might rest the whole argument, with a high degree of +assurance of the soundness and certainty of my conclusion, that the +result of emancipation must be, not the amalgamation of the races, not +an internecine war between them, but the inevitable extinction of the +weaker race by the competition of the stronger. I say the <i>competition</i> +of the stronger, because, to avoid extending this article to a very +unreasonable length, I must assume that the reader is sufficiently +versed in American history to know that even the Indian perishes, for +the most part, not by the sword or the rifle of the white man, but by +the simple competition of civilization with the Indian's means of +subsistence.</p> + +<p>I might, I say, leave my argument here; but to do so would be great +injustice to the subject. There are abundant and unquestionable facts, +which show to a demonstration, that the case of the negro in his +relations to the European population of this country is embraced in the +law just stated.</p> + +<p>In the first place, the two races are not amalgamated. Intermarriages +between them are so rare, that few of the readers of this article can +remember ever to have known one. Such marriages are regarded as +monstrous and disgraceful, though the law should, as in some of the +States, recognize them. One sentiment in respect to them pervades the +whole community, and that a sentiment of aversion. Those half-breeds +which spring from licentiousness, or even from the very few lawful +marriages which have occurred, are not accepted as standing in any +nearer relations to the white man than the pure-blooded African. In +those States where slavery has been longest extinct, and the colored man +has been relieved from all legal disabilities, the line between the two +races is as sharply drawn to-day as it was two hundred years ago. On +such a question two hundred years and more is long enough for an +experiment. The experiment already tried does prove that the +Anglo-American and African populations of this country cannot be +amalgamated, either by freedom or slavery; and those who pretend to fear +it, are either trying to deceive others for selfish and criminal +purposes, or else they are wofully deceived themselves.</p> + +<p>Nor are the apprehensions of those who dread the rapid increase of the +negro, at all sustained by facts. That fear of a coming internecine war +of races, in case the colored man is emancipated, which haunts some +minds, has no foundation except in ignorance of the real facts. In no +portion of our history has our colored population ever increased with a +rapidity nearly so great as the white population. From 1790 to 1860 the +colored population increased in the ratio of 1 to 5.86; and the white +population in the ratio of 1 to 8.50. If we compare them for any shorter +period, we shall always find that the white population increased the +more rapidly of the two. From 1790 to 1808, we might perhaps expect to +find it otherwise; for during that period the slave trade was in full +activity, and tens of thousands of Africans were imported as articles of +merchandise. But from 1790 to 1810, while the colored population +increased in the ratio of 1 to 1.81, the white population increased in +the ratio of 1 to 1.84, although during that period the white population +of the country was very little increased by immigration. How it has +happened that this point, which our tables of population make so +entirely plain, has been so much misapprehended, and why the prevailing +notions respecting it are so erroneous, is not easy to explain. The +above estimate also reckons all half breeds as belonging to the colored +population. (See De Bow's 'Compendium of the United States Census of +1850,' Tables 18, 42, and 71.)</p> + +<p>But this is not all. A careful examination of Tables 42 and 71 of the +volume above referred to, will show that the increase of the colored +race in free<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_606" id="Page_606">[Pg 606]</a></span>dom is certainly not half so great as in slavery. Indeed +there is great reason to doubt whether our colored population has ever +increased at all, except in slavery. From 1790 to 1800 the free colored +population almost doubled, evidently by the emancipation of slaves; for +during that period the slave population of Connecticut, Delaware, New +Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont was greatly +diminished, while that of New Jersey and Maryland was very little +increased. In the last mentioned the increase of her slave population +was only 2½ per cent. in ten years, while the increase of her free +colored population was 143½ per cent. in the same period. These +figures leave no room for doubt that the rapid increase of the free +colored population in all that decade was caused by the fact that the +great mass of the people were honestly opposed to slavery, and therefore +the work of emancipation went on with rapidity.</p> + +<p>From 1800 to 1810 the increase of the free colored population was 72 per +cent., under the continued though somewhat slackened operation of the +same cause. From 1810 to 1820 the increase had declined from 72 to 25 +per cent.; for the very obvious reason that most of the Northern States +had now no slaves to emancipate, while the Southern States were holding +to the system of slavery with increased tenacity, and emancipation was +becoming less frequent. From 1820 to 1830 the ratio of increase was +again raised to 37 per cent. in ten years. By referring again to Table +71, it will be seen that in that decade, New York and New Jersey +emancipated more than 15,000 slaves, adding them to the free colored +population. From 1830 to 1840 the rate of increase declined to 21 per +cent., and from 1840 to 1850 to only 12¼ per cent., and to 10 per +cent. from 1850 to 1860.</p> + +<p>These figures prove that from 1790 to 1840 the increase of the free +colored population depended chiefly on the emancipation of slaves, and +leave no reason to believe that its own natural increase ever exceeded +12¼ per cent. in ten years; while the average increase of the slave +population is nearly 28 per cent. in ten years, and of the white +population 34 per cent. in ten years. Thus, beyond controversy, the +reproductive power of the colored population, always greatly inferior to +that of the white population, is yet not half so great in freedom as in +slavery. This difference is to be accounted for in great measure by the +wicked and beastly stimulus applied to the increase of slaves, that the +chattel market may be kept supplied.</p> + +<p>There is no reason to suppose that the increase of the free colored +population would be in a greater ratio if all were emancipated; but, as +will appear from considerations yet to be presented, much for supposing +that it would be in a much smaller ratio. How then would the case stand +on that supposition? In 1860 there were about 27,000,000 of our white +population, increasing at the rate of 34 per cent. in ten years; and +less than 4,500,000 of colored population, increasing (on the +supposition of universal freedom) in a ratio not exceeding 12¼ per +cent. in ten years. Surely, that must be a very timid man who, in this +relation of the parties, fears anything from the increase of free +negroes. A war between these two races, so related to each other, is +simply absurd, and the fear of it childish and cowardly. Slavery may +multiply the colored population till its numbers shall become alarming; +but if we will give freedom to the black man, we have nothing to fear +from his increase.</p> + +<p>But this certainly is not the full strength of the case. There is no +good reason to believe that the natural increase of the free colored +population is even 12¼ per cent. in ten years, but much for +suspecting that even this apparent increase is the result of +emancipation, either by the slave's own act, or by the consent of the +master. If we take our departure from Chicago, make the tour of the +lakes to the point where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_607" id="Page_607">[Pg 607]</a></span> the boundary line of New York and Pennsylvania +intersects the shore of Lake Erie, thence pass along the southern +boundary of New York, till it intersects the Hudson river, thence along +that river and the Atlantic coast to the southern boundary of Virginia, +thence along the southern boundaries of Virginia and Kentucky to the +Mississippi, thence along that river to the point where the northern +boundary of Illinois intersects it, and thence along that boundary and +the shore of Lake Michigan to the place of departure, we shall have +embraced within the line described ten of the thirty-four States of the +Union. By an examination of Table 42, already referred to, it will be +seen that outside of those ten States the free colored population not +only did not increase between 1840 and 1850, but actually diminished, +and that all the increase of that decade was in those ten States.</p> + +<p>Why then was there an increase in those ten States, while in the other +twenty-four there was an actual decrease? I think this question can only +be answered by ascribing that increase to emancipation. In Kentucky, +Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, slavery is unprofitable and declining, +and acts of emancipation frequently occur. Pennsylvania and New Jersey, +before the passage of the fugitive slave law of 1850, were favorite +resorts of fugitives, perhaps partly on account of the known sympathies +of the Quakers. Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, were also resorted to by +fugitives, both on account of their easy accessibility from adjacent +Slave States, and their proximity to Canada, and also because such labor +as a fugitive from slavery is best able to do, is there always in +demand. These States have also received thousands of colored persons, +brought to them by humane and conscientious masters, for the very +purpose of emancipating them.</p> + +<p>From 1850 to 1860 the facts are still more striking. The increase which +occurred was not, as would have been true of a natural increase, +scattered over our whole territory, and in some proportion to the +colored population previously existing, but almost wholly, either where +the unprofitableness and decline of slavery was leading to emancipation, +or where from any cause the fugitive slave law of 1850 was not strictly +enforced. Examples of the former are Maryland, Virginia, and Missouri, +and of the latter are Ohio, Illinois, Michigan, Iowa, and even +Massachusetts and Connecticut, in the latter of which it had been +declining for twenty years previous.</p> + +<p>With the facts before us, then, furnished by the United States Census, +from 1790 to 1860, how is it possible to believe that the colored +population of this country has ever increased at all, except hi slavery? +How can we help seeing that it is slavery, and slavery alone, which has +swelled their numbers from a little more than half a million, as it was +in 1790, to near four and a half millions at the present time? Yet there +are millions among us that turn pale at the thought of emancipation, +lest thereby we should be overrun by the multiplication of the colored +race! There are millions who would be thought intelligent men, who think +they have propounded an unanswerable argument against emancipation When +they have asked, 'What will you do with the negro?' We may well ask what +shall we do with the negro, if we continue to multiply the race in +slavery as beasts of burden and articles of merchandise. But on the +supposition of freedom, the question has no significance. The men who +are always scaring themselves and others by such fears are either very +ignorant or very hypocritical.</p> + +<p>But the case will be still stronger when we come to inquire, as we must +before we close, into the causes of the facts which have just been +presented. There is no reason to believe that the slower increase of the +colored race is at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_608" id="Page_608">[Pg 608]</a></span> all due to any original inferiority in the powers of +reproduction, or that any such inferiority exists. Its causes are to be +found wholly in the different circumstances, characters, and habits of +the two peoples. The negro is, to a great extent, a barbarian in the +midst of civilization. He is destitute of those comforts of life, that +care, skill, and intelligent watchfulness, which are indispensable to +success in rearing children in the midst of the dangers, exposures, and +diseases of infancy. His dwelling does not afford the necessary +protection from the cold and storms of winter, or from the heats of +summer: it is ill warmed and ill ventilated; he has not an unfailing +supply of food and clothing suited to the wants of that most frail and +delicate of living creatures, a human infant. Hence a large portion of +his children die in infancy.</p> + +<p>On the last page of the Appendix to the volume already referred to, is a +most instructive table, showing the truth of this operation. Thus in +1850 the white population of Alabama was 426,514; the colored +population, slave and free, was 365,109. In that year the deaths of +white children under five years of age were 1,650; of colored children, +2,463. That is, only two thirds as many white children died as colored; +and yet the white population was greater almost in the ratio of 7 to 6. +By running the eye down the table, it will be seen that similar facts +exist in every State where there is a large colored population. These +facts leave us in no doubt as to the reason why the increase of the +colored population is always slower than that of the white population.</p> + +<p>This occurs, as the table just referred to shows, under slavery, where +the pecuniary interest of the master will secure his watchful +coöperation with the parent to preserve the life of the infant. But in +freedom the same causes act upon the colored race with vastly more +destructive effect. The preservation of infant life and health is then +left solely to the care, skill, and resources of the parent. The result +is that decay of the colored race which we have seen indicated in the +census. It is essential to our purpose that this point should be made +quite plain.</p> + +<p>It is obvious that there is in every community a lower stratum of +population, in which wages are sufficient to support the individual +laborer in comfort, but not sufficient for the support of a family. This +not only always has been so, but it always must be, as long as +competition continues to be the test of value; and competition must +continue to be the test of value as long as the individual right of +property is protected and preserved. Nor is this, as many superficial +thinkers of our day have thought it, merely the hard and selfish rule by +which Shylock oppresses and grinds the face of his victim: it is a +necessary and beneficent law of the best forms of society which can ever +exist in this world. The welfare of society in all the future +imperatively requires that it should be propagated from the strong, the +sound, the healthy, both in body and mind, from the strongest, most +vigorous, and noblest specimens of the race; and not from the diseased, +the weak, the vicious, the degraded, the broken-down classes. Thus only +can the life and health of society be preserved age after age. This is +as necessary as it is that the farmer should propagate his domestic +animals from the finest of his stock, and not from the diminutive, the +weak, and the sickly. And it is accomplished in well ordered society by +that very law of wages just stated. As a general rule, it is the very +persons who are unfit to be the parents of the coming generation, that +are thrown into that lower stratum where wages are insufficient for the +support of a family. And just in proportion as the entire structure of +society is pervaded by intelligence and virtue, this class of persons +will abstain from marriage, by prudently considering that they have not +a satisfactory prospect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_609" id="Page_609">[Pg 609]</a></span> of being able to support a family. It is thus +only that the horrors of extreme poverty can be avoided at the bottom of +the social pyramid. The severity of this law of wages and population can +thus be greatly mitigated and the comforts of life be universally +enjoyed; but the law itself is necessary and beneficent, and never can +be repealed till human nature and human society are constructed on other +principles than those known to us.</p> + +<p>To apply this to the question before us: When by the act of emancipation +the negro is made a free laborer, he is brought into direct competition +with the white man; that competition he is unable to endure; and he soon +finds his place in that lower stratum, which has just been spoken of, +where he can support himself in tolerable comfort as a hired servant, +but cannot support a family. The consequence is inevitable. He will +either never marry, or he will, in the attempt to support a family, +struggle in vain against the laws of nature, and his children will, many +of them at least, die in infancy. It is not necessary to argue to +convince a candid man (and for candid men only is this article written) +that this is, as a general rule, the condition of the free negro. And it +shows, beyond the possibility of mistake, what in this country his +destiny must be. Like his brother, the Indian of the forest, he must +melt away and disappear forever from the midst of us. I do not affirm or +intimate that this must be his destiny in all countries. In the tropical +regions of the earth, where he may have little to fear from the +competition of the more civilized white man, he may preserve and +multiply his race. Let him try the experiment. It is worth trying.</p> + +<p>Far be it from me to intimate that the negro is the only class of our +population that are in this sad condition. In our large cities and towns +there are hundreds of thousands of men who have no drop of African blood +in their veins, and who are more clamorous than any other class against +negro equality, who, through ignorance or vice, or superstition, or +inevitable calamity, are in the same hard lot; their children, if they +have any, perish in great numbers in infancy, and they will add nothing +to the future population of our country. That will be derived from a +stronger, nobler parentage. Their race will become extinct. Their case +differs from that of the colored man only in this, that they are not +distinguished by color and features from the rest of the population; so +that the decay of their race cannot be traced by the eye and the memory, +and expressed in statistical tables.</p> + +<p>We are now prepared to see why the colored population has been, for a +considerable time, declining in New York and New England. In those +States population is dense; all occupations which afford a comfortable +living for a family are crowded and the competition of the white man is +quite too much for the negro. If emancipation were now to be made +universal, the same thing would rapidly occur in all parts of our +country. The white laborer would rush in and speedily crowd every avenue +to prosperity and wealth; and the negro, with his inferior civilization, +would be crowded everywhere into the lower stratum of the social +pyramid, and in a few generations be seen no more. The far more rapid +increase of the white race would render the competition more and more +severe to him with each successive generation, and render his decay more +rapid, and his extinction more certain.</p> + +<p>I am well aware that this article may fall into the hands of many +excellent men who will not relish this argument, nor this conclusion. +They will say it were better then to keep the poor negro in slavery. But +they would not say so if they would consider the whole case. If slavery +were a blessing to the black man, it is so great a curse to the white +man that it should never be permitted to exist. The white man can afford +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_610" id="Page_610">[Pg 610]</a></span> be kind to the negro in freedom; but he cannot afford to curse +himself with being his master and owning him as his property. On this +point I need not enlarge, for I am devoutly thankful that the literature +of Christendom is full of it.</p> + +<p>But slavery is not a blessing to the negro, even in the view of his +condition which I have presented; it is an <i>unmitigated curse</i>. To a man +of governed passions and virtuous life, it is infinitely better to be an +unmarried freeman, enjoying the comforts of this life, and the hopes of +the life to come, than to live and die a slave, and the parent of an +interminable posterity of slaves. To a being of vicious life and +ungoverned passions, all life is a curse, whether in slavery or freedom; +and it surely is not obligatory on us, or beneficial to the colored man, +to preserve the system of slavery for the sake of perpetuating a +succession of such lives down through coming generations.</p> + +<p>Slavery, by forced and artificial means, propagates society from its +lowest and most degraded class, from a race of barbarians held within +its bosom from generation to generation, without being permitted to +share its civilizing influences. It thus propagates barbarism from age +to age, till at last it involves both master and slave in a common ruin. +Freedom recruits the ranks of a nation's population from the homes of +the industrious, the frugal, the strong, the enlightened, the virtuous, +the religious; and leaves the ignorant, the superstitious, the indolent, +the improvident, the vicious, without an offspring, and without a name +in future generations. Freedom places society, by obeying the law of +propagation which God imposed on it, upon an ascending plane of +ever-increasing civilization; slavery, by a forced and unnatural law of +propagation, places it upon a descending plane of ever-deepening vice +and barbarism.</p> + +<p>That dread of negro equality which is perpetually haunting the +imaginations of the American people, is, therefore, wholly without +foundation in any reality. It is a delusion, which has already driven +us, in a sort of madness, far on the road to ruin. It is, I fear, a +judicial blindness, which the all-wise and righteous Ruler of the +universe has sent upon us for the punishment of our sins. The negro does +not aspire to political or social equality with the white man. He has +evidently no such destiny, no such hope, no such possibility. He is +weak, and constantly becoming weaker; and nothing can ever make him +strong but our continued injustice and oppression. He appeals not to our +fears, but to our compassion. He asks not to rule us: he only craves of +us leave to toil; to hew our wood and draw our water, for such miserable +pittance of compensation as the competition of free labor will award +him—<i>a grave</i>. If we deny him this humble boon, we may expect no end to +our national convulsions but in dissolution. If we promptly grant it, +over all our national domain, we may expect the speedy return of peace, +and such prosperity as no nation ever before enjoyed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_611" id="Page_611">[Pg 611]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL" id="WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL"></a>WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one <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> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p>We go tack to look a little at the fortunes of the Meeker family. +Twenty-three years have passed since we introduced it to the reader, on +the occasion of Hiram's birth. Time has produced his usual tokens. Mr. +Meeker is already an old man of seventy, but by no means infirm. His +days have been cheerful and serene, and his countenance exhibits that +contented expression which a happy old age produces.</p> + +<p>A happy old age—how few of the few who reach the period enjoy <i>that</i>! +Mr. Meeker's life has been unselfish and genuine; already he reaps his +reward.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Meeker, too, is twenty-three years older than when we first made +her acquaintance. She is now over sixty. She still possesses her fair +proportions; indeed, she has grown somewhat stouter with advancing +years. Her face is sleek and comely, but the expression has not +improved. When she wishes to appear amiable, she greets you with the +same pleasing smile as ever; but if you watch her features as they +relapse into their natural repose, you will discover a discontented, +dissatisfied air, which has become habitual. Why? Mrs. Meeker has met +with no reverses or serious disappointments in the daily routine of her +life. But, alas! its sum total presents no satisfactory consequences. +She has become, though unconscious of it, weary of the changeless +formality of her religious duties, performed as a ceaseless task, +without any real spirit or true devotion. Year after year has run its +course and carried her along, through early womanhood into mature life, +on to the confines of age. What has she for all those years? Nothing but +disquiet and solicitude, and a vague anxiety, without apparent cause or +satisfactory object.</p> + +<p>As they advance in age, Mr. and Mrs. Meeker exhibit less sympathy in +each other's thoughts and views and feelings. By degrees and +instinctively the gulf widens between them—until it becomes impassable. +Everything goes on quietly and decorously, but there is no sense of +united destiny, no pleasurable desire for a union beyond the grave.</p> + +<p>The children are scattered; the daughters are all married. Jane and +Laura have gone 'West,' and Mary is living in Hartford. Doctor Frank we +will give an account of presently. George is a practical engineer, and +is employed on the Erie canal. William, who was to remain at home and +manage the farm, is married, and lives in a small house not far off. His +mother would permit no 'daughter-in-law' with her. She did not like the +match. William had fallen in love with a very superior girl, +fine-looking and amiable, but not possessed of a penny. Besides, she +belonged to the Methodist church, a set who believed in falling from +grace! Mrs. Meeker had peremptorily forbid her son marrying 'the girl,' +but after a year's delay, and considerable private conversation with his +father, William <i>had</i> married her, and a small house which stood on the +premises had been put in order for him. What was worse, William soon +joined the same church with his wife, and then the happiness of the +young couple seemed complete. Mrs. Meeker undertook, as she said, to +'make the best of a bad bargain,' so the two families were on terms of +friendly intercourse, but they continued to remain separated.</p> + +<p>Dr. Frank, as he was called, had taken his medical degree, and, by the +indulgence of his father, whose heart yearned sympathetically toward +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_612" id="Page_612">[Pg 612]</a></span> firstborn, opportunity was afforded him to spend a year in Paris. +Mrs. Meeker groaned over this unnecessary expense. When she saw that on +this occasion she was not to have her own way, she insisted that the +money her husband was wasting on Frank should be charged against his +'portion.' She never for a moment forgot Hiram's interest. She had +schemed for years so to arrange affairs that the homestead proper would +fall to him, notwithstanding George was to be the farmer. Mrs. Meeker +calculated on surviving her husband for a long, indefinite period. She +was several years younger, and, as she was accustomed to remark, came of +a long-lived race. 'Mr. Meeker was failing fast' (she had said so for +the last fifteen years)—'at his age he could not be expected to hold +out long. He ought to make his will, and do justice to Hiram, poor boy. +All the rest had received more than their share. <i>He</i> was treated like +an outcast.'</p> + +<p>This was the burden of Mrs. Meeker's thoughts, the latter portion of +which found expression in strong and forcible language. For she +calculated, by the aid of her 'thirds' as widow, to so arrange it as to +give her favorite the most valuable part of the real estate.</p> + +<p>There was a fixedness and a tenacity about this woman's regard for her +youngest child that was, in a certain sense, very touching. It could not +be termed parental affection—that is blind and indiscriminating; it was +rather a sympathetic feeling toward a younger second self, with which, +doubtless, was mingled the maternal interest. Whatever touched Hiram +affected her; she understood his plans without his explaining them; she +foresaw his career; she was anxious, hopeful, trembling, rejoicing, as +she thought of what he must pass through before he emerged rich and +powerful.</p> + +<p>Hiram visited home but seldom. Even when at Burnsville, he came over +scarcely once in three months. Often, when expecting him, his mother +would sit by the window the whole afternoon, watching for her son to +arrive. Many a time was supper kept hot for him till late into the +night, while she sat up alone to greet him; but he did not come. I +hardly know how to record it, but I am forced to say that Hiram cared +very little about his mother. Could he have possibly cared much for +anybody, he would probably for her, for he knew how her heart was bound +up in him. He knew it, and, I think, rather pitied the old lady for her +weakness. His manner toward her was all that could be desired—very +dutiful, very respectful. So it was to his father. For Hiram did not +forget the statement of his Sunday-school teacher, which was made when +he was a very young child, about the 'commandment <i>with promise</i>.' Thus +his conduct toward his parents was, like his conduct generally, +unexceptionable.</p> + +<p>For Frank, the eldest, however, Hiram felt a peculiar aversion. It was a +long time before the former entertained any other feeling for his +'little brother' than one of the most affectionate regard. By many years +the youngest of the family, Hiram, while a child, was the pet and +plaything of the older ones, and especially of Frank, who in his college +vacations took pleasure in training the little fellow, who was just +learning his letters, and in teaching him smart sayings and cunning +expressions. As Hiram grew up and began to display the characteristics I +have already so fully described, Frank, who was quick and sensitive in +his appreciation of qualities, could not, or at least did not, conceal +the disgust he felt for these exhibitions. He took occasion on his +visits home to lecture the youngster soundly. Hiram was not +demonstrative in return, but Mrs. Meeker gave way to undue warmth and +excitement in taking his part. This was when Hiram was at the village +academy. From that time, there was coolness between the brothers, +increased by the total difference of their notions, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_613" id="Page_613">[Pg 613]</a></span> ripened in +time to settled aversion. After Hiram went to Burnsville, they did not +meet. Dr. Frank, after spending his year abroad, had returned and +accepted the appointment of demonstrator of anatomy in a medical school +in Vermont. Thence he was called to a chair, in what was then the only +medical college in the city. He was at the time about thirty-six years +old, and a splendid fellow. Enthusiastically devoted to his profession, +Dr. Frank had looked to the metropolis as the field of his ultimate +labors. But he knew the difficulties of getting established, and it was +not till he was assured of a respectable foothold through his +appointment that he ventured on the change. Doubtless the fact of his +having a wife and children made him cautious. Now, however, we behold +him settled in town, zealously engaged with his class at lecture hours, +and making his way gradually in public favor.</p> + +<p>It was with some surprise that, one evening, while making a short call +at Mr. Bennett's, he encountered Hiram, who had just removed to the +city. The brothers had not met for four years. On this occasion they +shook hands with a species of cordiality—at least on the Doctor's +part—while Hiram preserved a bearing of humility and injured innocence. +The Doctor asked his brother many questions. Was he living in town—how +long since he had come to New York—was he engaged with Mr. +Bennett—what was he doing? Hiram returned short answers to these +queries—very short—acting the while as if he were in pain under a +certain infliction. He looked up, as much as to say, 'Now, let me alone; +please don't persecute me.' But the Doctor did not give the matter up. +He invited Hiram to come and see him, and told him, with a smile, to be +sure and let him know if he should be taken sick. Hiram wriggled in his +seat, and looked more persecuted than ever; he replied that his health +was very good, and likely to continue so. The words were scarcely out of +his mouth, before it struck him that such an observation was a direct +tempting of Providence, to trip his heels and lay him on a sickbed for +his boast. So, after a slight hesitation, he added, 'But the race is not +to the swift, brother, and I am wrong to indulge in vainglory about +anything. Life and death are uncertain; none realize it, I trust, more +deeply than I do.'</p> + +<p>'I was in hopes, Hiram, you had quit talking cant,' said Dr. Frank, in a +tone of disgust. 'Take my advice, and stop it, that is, if it is not too +late.'</p> + +<p>He did not wait for a response, but, much to Hiram's satisfaction, rose, +and saying to Mrs. Bennett that he had overstayed his time, bade a rapid +'good evening' to all, and left the room.</p> + +<p>'It is dreadful to feel so toward a brother. It is of no use. I won't +attempt to resist it. The least we see of each other the better—but, +good God, what's to become of him!' Such was the Doctor's soliloquy as +he walked rapidly on. Other thoughts soon occupied his mind, and Hiram +was forgotten. The latter, however, did not forget. The Doctor's rebuke +filled his heart with rage; still he consoled himself with the thought +that his brother was an infidel, and would unquestionably be damned. +Meantime he was forced to hear various encomiums on him from Mrs. +Bennett and her daughters—[Doctor Frank, as we have intimated, was a +brilliant fellow, and in the very prime of life]—and was still further +annoyed by a remark of Mr. Bennett, that 'the Doctor was doing very +well; gaining ground fast; getting some of our best families.' Hiram +departed from the house in an uncomfortable state of mind. All the way +home he indulged in the bitterest feelings: so strong were these that +they found expression in ominous mutterings to himself, among which +were, 'Conceited fool,' 'I hate him,' and the like.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Hiram's thoughts appeared to take a new direction. He stopped +short, and exclaimed aloud: 'What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_614" id="Page_614">[Pg 614]</a></span> have I done? O God, have mercy on me. +God forgive me!'</p> + +<p>When he reached his room he hastily struck a light and seized his Bible. +Turning the leaves rapidly in search of something, his eyes were at +length fastened on a verse, and he trembled from head to foot, and his +breath nearly failed him, while he read as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>'But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother +without a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever +shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: +but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell +fire.'</i></p></div> + +<p>'The very word; oh, the very, very word!' he exclaimed. 'I have said +it—said that word—said 'fool,' and I am in danger of hell fire, if I +do belong to the church. Yes, hell fire—oh-oh—oh, hell fire. I wish +mother was here. I know what I will do. I will write a confession, and +send it to my brother to-morrow. I will abase myself before him. Yes, I +will. Oh, oh, hell fire! What <i>will</i> become of me!' Hiram prayed, a good +portion of the night, for a remission of the awful sentence; the bare +possibility of its being carried out filled him with terror.</p> + +<p>At last, overcome by weariness and exhaustion, he fell asleep.</p> + +<p>He awoke early. He lay several minutes, revolving the last night's +scene. Presently his countenance brightened. He sprang from the bed, and +again turned to the dreaded text, but not with his previous alarm. On +the contrary, he was hopeful. He read the verse over carefully, and said +to him self: 'I am all right, after all. It means whosoever shall say +the word <i>to</i> his brother. I did not make any reply to Frank, much as he +irritated me. I restrained my anger, and suffered humiliation before +him. I may have been too violent in giving utterance to these +expressions, but it is doubtful if I have even incurred <i>any</i> penalty, +for I surely was not angry <i>without a cause</i>. God has heard my prayers, +and has relieved my mind in answer thereto. I shan't have to make a +confession either. Glad of that. How he would have triumphed over me!'</p> + +<p>So Hiram went forth to his usual 'duties,' his complacency fully +restored, and his faith confirmed that he was one of the 'elect.'</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<p>'Already she guessed who it was!'</p> + +<p>And who <i>could</i> he be—the intelligent, handsome, but, as it would seem, +over-bold young man, who had presumed to place himself so confidently in +her path and interrupt her walk till he had said his say, and then +disappear as abruptly as he came?</p> + +<p>She guessed who.</p> + +<p>The arrival of her father with the guest he was to bring proved she had +divined right. For coming up the avenue, she saw that it was the same +handsome young man she had a little before encountered. And she could +perceive in her father's countenance a glowing look of satisfaction as +the two mounted the steps (Sarah was peeping through the blinds) and +proceeded to enter the house. Before they had accomplished this, +however, the room was vacant. Sarah was nowhere to be found—that is, +for the moment; but in due time she presented herself, and thereupon Dr. +James Egerton—that was his name—was formally introduced to her.</p> + +<p>'I recollect you now,' said Sarah, seriously. 'Your features have not at +all changed, except they seem larger and—'</p> + +<p>'Older, doubtless,' interrupted the young man. 'You, too, have changed, +even more than I; but I knew you the moment my eyes fell on you.' * * *</p> + +<p>Seven years had passed since grievous afflictions befell Joel +Burns—when his wife died and his daughter was stricken low, and he +himself was brought to the very gates of death. The reader has already +been made acquainted with these circumstances, and will scarcely forget +that, when the famous medical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_615" id="Page_615">[Pg 615]</a></span> man returned to New Haven after visiting +Sarah, he despatched his favorite student, with directions to devote +himself to the case. It is known, too, with what earnestness and skill +the youth—for he was little more than a youth—performed his +responsible duties.</p> + +<p>Here I had thought to take leave of him, but as he has abruptly come on +the stage as a visitor at Burnsville, and as Sarah Burns already +exhibits an incipient interest in the young doctor, I must let the +reader into the secret of his sudden appearance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_UNION" id="THE_UNION"></a>THE UNION.</h2> + +<h3><a name="RHODE_ISLAND" id="RHODE_ISLAND"></a>VII.</h3> + +<h3>RHODE ISLAND AND DELAWARE COMPARED.</h3> + + +<p>In 1790 the population of Rhode Island was 69,110, and that of Delaware +59,096. In 1860 the former numbered 174,620, the latter 112,216. Thus, +from 1790 to 1860, the ratio of increase of population of Rhode Island +was 152.67 per cent., and of Delaware, 89.88. At the same relative rate +of increase, for the next, as for the last seventy years, the population +of Rhode Island in 1930, would be 441,212, and of Delaware, 213,074. +Thus in 1790, Rhode Island numbered but 10,014 more than Delaware, +62,404 more in 1860, and, at the same ratio of increase, 228,138 more in +1930. Such has been and would be the effect of slavery in retarding the +increase of Delaware, as compared with Rhode Island. (Census Table, +1860, No. 1.)</p> + +<p>The population of Rhode Island per square mile in 1790, was 52.15, and +in 1860, 133.71; that of Delaware, 27.87 in 1790, and 59.93 in 1860. The +absolute increase of population of Rhode Island, per square mile, from +1790 to 1860, was 80.79, and from 1850 to 1860, 20.74; that of Delaware, +from 1790 to 1860 was 25.05, and from 1850 to 1860, 9.76. (Ib.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Area</span>.-The area of Rhode Island is 1,306 square miles, and of +Delaware, 2,120, being 38 per cent., or much more than one third larger +than Rhode Island. Retaining their respective ratios of increase, per +square mile, from 1790 to 1860, and reversing their areas, the +population of Rhode Island in 1860, would have been 283,465, and of +Delaware, 78,268.</p> + +<p>In natural fertility of soil Delaware is far superior to Rhode Island, +the seasons much more favorable for crops and stock, and with more than +double the number of acres of arable land.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Progress of Wealth</span>.—By Census Tables 33 and 36 (omitting +commerce), it appears that the products of industry as given, viz., of +agriculture, manufactures, mines, and fisheries, were that year, in +Rhode Island, of the value of $52,400,000, or $300 per capita, and in +Delaware, $16,100,000, or $143 per capita. That is, the average annual +value of the product of the labor of each person in Rhode Island is +greatly more than double that of the labor of each person in Delaware, +including slaves. This, we have seen, would make the value of the +products of labor in Rhode Island in 1930, $132,363,600, and in +Delaware, only $30,469,582, notwithstanding the far greater area and +superior natural advantages of Delaware as compared with Rhode Island.</p> + +<p>As to the rate of increase: the value<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_616" id="Page_616">[Pg 616]</a></span> of the products of Delaware in +1850 was $7,804,992, in 1860, $16,100,000; and in Rhode Island, in 1850, +$24,288,088, and in 1860, $52,400,000 (Table 9, Treas. Rep., 1856), +exhibiting a large difference in the ratio in favor of Rhode Island.</p> + +<p>By Table 36, p. 196, Census of 1860, the cash value of the farm lands of +Rhode Island in 1860 was $19,385,573, or $37.30 per acre (519,698 +acres), and of Delaware, $31,426,357, or $31.39 per acre. (1,004,295 +acres). Thus, if the farm lands of Delaware were of the cash value of +those of Rhode Island per acre, it would increase the value of those of +Delaware $5,935,385, whereas the whole value of her slaves is but +$539,400.</p> + +<p>But by Table 35, Census of 1860, the total value of the real and +personal property of Rhode Island in 1860, was $135,337,588, and of +Delaware, $46,242,181, making a difference in favor of Rhode Island, +$89,095,407, whereas, we have seen, in the absence of slavery, Delaware +must have far exceeded Rhode Island in wealth and population.</p> + +<p>The earnings of commerce are not given by the census, but, to how vast +an extent this would swell the difference in favor of Rhode Island, we +may learn from the Census, Bank Table No. 34. The number of the banks of +Rhode Island in 1860, was 91; capital, $20,865,569; loans, $26,719,877; +circulation, $3,558,295; deposits, $3,553,104. In Delaware, number of +banks, 12; capital, $1,640,775; loans, $3,150,215; circulation, +$1,135,772; deposits, $976,223.</p> + +<p>Having shown how much slavery has retarded the material progress of +Delaware, let us now consider its effect upon her moral and intellectual +development.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Newspapers and Periodicals</span>.—The number of newspapers and +periodicals in Rhode Island in 1860, was 26, of which 18 were political, +6 literary, and 2 miscellaneous. (Census, Table No. 37.) The number in +Delaware was 14, of which 13 were political, and 1 literary. Of +periodicals, Delaware had none; Rhode Island, 1. The number of copies of +newspapers and periodicals issued in Rhode Island in 1860 was 5,289,280, +and in Delaware only 1,010,776, or largely more than five to one in +favor of Rhode Island.</p> + +<p>As regards schools, colleges, academies, libraries, and churches, I must +take the census of 1850, those tables for 1860 not being yet arranged or +published. The number of public schools in Rhode Island in 1850 was 426, +teachers 518, pupils 23,130; attending school during the year, as +returned by families, whites, 28,359; native adults of the State who +cannot read or write, 1,248; public libraries, 96; volumes, 104,342; +value of churches, $1,293,600; percentage of native free adults who +cannot read or write, 149. Colleges and academies, pupils, 3,664. (Comp. +Census of 1850.) The number of public schools in Delaware in 1850, was +194, teachers 214, pupils 8,970; attending school during the year, +whites, as returned by families, 14,216; native free adults of the State +who cannot read or write, 9,777; public libraries, 17; volumes, 17,950; +value of churches, $340,345; percentage of native free adults who cannot +read or write, 23.03; colleges and academies, pupils, 764. (Comp. +Census, 1850.)</p> + +<p>These official statistics enable me then again to say, that slavery is +hostile to the progress of <i>population</i>, <i>wealth</i>, and <i>education</i>, to +<i>science</i> and <i>literature</i>, to <i>schools</i> and <i>colleges</i>, to <i>books</i> and +<i>libraries</i>, to <i>churches</i> and <i>religion</i>, to the <i>press</i>, and therefore +to FREE GOVERNMENT; hostile to the <i>poor</i>, keeping them in <i>want</i> and +<i>ignorance</i>; hostile to <i>labor</i>, reducing it to <i>servitude</i>, and +decreasing <i>two thirds</i> the value of its products; hostile to MORALS, +repudiating among slaves the <i>marital</i> and <i>parental</i> condition, +classifying them by law as CHATTELS, darkening the immortal soul, and +making it a <i>crime</i> to teach millions of human beings to <i>read</i> or +<i>write</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_617" id="Page_617">[Pg 617]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CAUSES_AND_RESULTS_OF_THE_WAR" id="THE_CAUSES_AND_RESULTS_OF_THE_WAR"></a>THE CAUSES AND RESULTS OF THE WAR.</h2> + + +<p>There are certain theories in regard to the causes of the present war, +which are so generally accepted as to have fortified themselves strongly +in the principle of '<i>magna est veritas</i> et prevalebit.' Theories based, +however, upon facts which have taken their rise long since the true +causes of the war had begun to work, and which, consequently, mistaking +the effect for the cause, are from their nature ephemeral, and farther +from the truth than they were at their origin. Few thinkers have looked +below the surface of the matter, and the majority of Christendom, +ignoring any other past than the few brief years that have rolled over +our national existence, forgetting that great causes oft-times smoulder +unseen for centuries ere they burst forth in effects the more powerful +from their long suppression, shaking the earth with the pent-up fury of +ages—forgetting these things and arguing in the present instance from +the few palpable facts found floating upon the surface of our society, +by a tacit consent lay the burden of the war upon the present generation +and its immediate predecessors. Herein lies the error which blinds the +world as well to the warning of the past as to the momentous issue +involved.</p> + +<p>Where then shall we look for the cause of that antagonism in which North +and South are arrayed—that bitter hostility setting brother against +brother, and father against child, dividing into two separate portions a +nation descended from the same stock, whose archives are one, all whose +associations of a glorious past are the same, and which has hitherto +swept swiftly on to unparalleled wealth and power, seemingly +indissolubly united, and looking forward to the same glorious and +ever-expanding future? Not to the errors in our political system, for no +faults of government could, in a brief century, have produced such an +upheaving of the foundations of society as we now behold—could have +awakened such a thunder peal as is now causing the uttermost corners of +the earth to tremble with dismay. Not to the institution of slavery, for +however great a curse it maybe to our people and soil, however +brutalizing in its tendencies, however unjust to the negro race, and +opposed to all the principles of enlightenment and human progress—of +whatever crimes it may have been guilty, this last and greatest of +crimes cannot be laid at its door: for the bitterness of feeling between +North and South existed long before the agitation of slavery was dreamed +of, and the latter has only been seized upon as the ready means of +accomplishing a greater design. Finally, not to any supposed desire in +the Southern mind of establishing an independent empire of the South, +whose people should be homogeneous, whose individual interests +identical, and whose climate, productions, and institutions should move +on in undisturbed harmony forever. For to this last a motive is wanting. +Under no government that the world has ever known could the South have +enjoyed so much freedom, such unexampled prosperity, such a rapid growth +in wealth and power, in a word, so much real happiness—which is the sum +of all earthly gifts—as under this which they are so earnestly +endeavoring to tear down and blot from the face of the earth. Men's +minds do not eagerly grasp and sternly pursue an abstract idea divorced +from every consideration of self-interest, such as this would be. Even +the greatest of moral principles are indebted to self-interest for their +success, and without it the sublimest of creeds, the loftiest of +principles would soon wither and die for lack of support. With every +blessing that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_618" id="Page_618">[Pg 618]</a></span> heart could wish in the present, and with no hope through +change of bettering their condition in a practical point of view in the +future, the idea of a great Southern empire, based upon such uncertain +possibilities, would soon have disappeared from the Southern mind, even +if it had ever existed.</p> + +<p>Nay; the true cause is beneath and behind all these, taking its rise +from the very foundations of English society in the dark ages, from the +establishment of classes and distinctions of rank. In English history +this principle reached its culmination in the wars of the Parliament, +that great political tempest which changed the whole destiny and guided +the future of that powerful nation, making it, as it is to-day, the +dominant race of the old world. Its greatest development, however, was +reserved for our day and our land. The England of the subsequent era was +a new government, a new people. She reaped her harvest of good from her +gigantic struggles, and so must we reap our harvest from ours. From the +moment when the first settlers set foot upon our shores our inevitable +destiny was foreshadowed; the seeds of the 'Great Rebellion' were even +then deeply implanted, and all causes have since that day worked +together for its fulfilment. We too must be purified by fire and sword; +and may we not hope that our beloved country may emerge from the +slaughter, the ruin, and the conflagration, more prosperous, more +powerful than ever before, and casting off the slough of impurity that +has for long years been hardening upon her, renovated and redeemed by +the struggle, sweep majestically on to a purer and nobler destiny than +even our past has given promise of, and attain a loftier position than +any nation on earth has yet acquired?</p> + +<p>The intimate relation of the feudal ages, between baron and retainer, +established at first upon principles of individual safety and the public +weal, soon degenerated into that of noble and serf. That which at first +was but an honorable distinction between knight service on the one hand, +and protection and patronage on the other, became, in the course of +time, the baser relation of haughty assumption and oppression on the one +hand, and the most abject servitude on the other. Descended from the +same stern Saxon stock, separated only by purely artificial barriers, by +the fortuitous circumstance of birth, the sturdy peasant could ill brook +the tyranny of the privileged class—those 'lords rich in some dozen +paltry villages.' That stern independence which has ever been the +prominent characteristic of the Saxon mind, revolted at the palpable +injustice of the relation of lord and serf. The aristocracy, on the +contrary, fortified in their arrogance, at a later day, by the irruption +of the Norman nobility, with their French ideas and customs, so far from +yielding to the signs of the times and the light of dawning +civilization, refused to give up one tittle of their assumed +prerogatives, and became even more exacting in their demands, more lofty +in their supposed superiority. Thus was engendered between the two +classes a bitterness of feeling, a spirit of antagonism, that has never +yet disappeared. Patiently did the peasant bide his time, and only when +the tyranny became utterly unendurable did the movement commence which +has swept downward to our time, reiving away one by one the miscalled +privileges of the favored class, bringing, year by year, the condition +of the laborer nearer to the true balance of society.</p> + +<p>This antagonism reached its height in the Cromwellian era, and the men +of those times stand forth upon the page of history as the exponents of +the great principles of civil freedom. The strength of the Cromwellian +party lay in the fact that it was composed almost entirely of the +laboring and the middle classes, the bone and sinew of the land. Then +for the first time in English history the world saw the plebeian pitted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_619" id="Page_619">[Pg 619]</a></span> +against the aristocrat, and the strife which ensued involved not so much +the question of kingly prerogative and the 'divine right' of monarchs, +as the pent-up feuds of ages—feuds arising from the most flagrant +injustice and wrong on the one hand and forced submission on the other. +This of itself was enough to lend to the contest a character of ferocity +which well might make civilization turn pale. But even this bitterness +was slight compared with that engendered by the <i>religious</i> element of +the war. The history of the world has shown no wars so cruel and bloody, +no crimes so heinous, no hatred so deep seated and abiding as those +produced by religious differences. Strange that it should be so! Strange +that the sacred cause whose province is to develop the purest and +holiest emotions of the soul, should call forth and develop the +fiercest, the darkest, and most unrelenting passions of the human heart! +Yet so it proved in this instance. Their fierce, fanatical enthusiasm +was a powerful element of strength to the Roundheads, which was lacking +to the effeminate, corrupt, and godless Cavaliers. With such an +auxiliary the struggle could not be doubtful; religious fanaticism +carried the day.</p> + +<p>In the years succeeding the Restoration, the evil effects of this +religious antagonism were modified by mutual concessions, and in time +almost disappeared under the impartial administration of a government +founded upon a firmer basis than ever before, and more consonant to +Saxon ideas of justice and social equality. But with us of America there +was no such modification, for from the midst of this time of war and +tumult, of savage hatred and unrelenting persecution, American society +sprang. Our country was settled by representatives of these two extremes +of English society, and in their choice of abode the hand of Providence +is distinctly seen laying the foundations of our struggle of to-day, +which is to prove the refining fire, the purification and regeneration +of our race. Had the Cavaliers landed upon the shores of New England, +the bracing winds of that northern clime, the rugged and intractable +nature of the soil, the constant presence of dangers from the fiercer +Indian tribes of the north, and the absolute necessity of severe and +incessant toil to support existence, would have awakened and developed +in them those manly qualities which for centuries had lain dormant in +their souls—would have imparted new strength to their frames, new vigor +and energy to their modes of thought; their indolence and effeminacy +would soon have passed away, and they would have constantly approached, +instead of departing from the true Puritan type. While, on the other +hand, the stern, rough, almost savage peculiarities of the Puritan would +in like manner have been modified by the genial influences of a southern +sun and a teeming soil, and while the severe training and rough +experiences of centuries, as well as their peculiar mental constitution, +would have prevented their entirely lapsing into the indolence and +effeminacy of the Cavalier, the whole race would nevertheless have +undergone a softening change, bringing them in their turn nearer the +type of their old antagonists; and thus each succeeding year would have +seen these two extremes of social life drawing nearer and nearer +together, and at last blending in dull, contented, plodding harmony. And +the result would doubtless have been the degeneration of the entire +race, and our fate that of the Spanish American colonies.</p> + +<p>But this did not suit the designs of Providence. It was His purpose that +there should be here those manifold social and political conflicts which +are the life of a great nation—which are, indeed, the motive power to +the wheels of human progress. A great problem in human destiny was here +to be wrought out; a powerful nation was to arise, bearing within itself +the ele<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_620" id="Page_620">[Pg 620]</a></span>ments of its own continual purification. The Cavalier landed +upon the shores of Virginia, and spread his settlements southward. The +influence of climate upon both the physical and mental constitution of +man is well known. The enervating climate of the 'sunny South,' the soil +fruitful beyond a parallel, pouring forth its products almost +spontaneously, and, above all, the 'peculiar institution,' which +released the planter from the necessity of toil, all tended to aggravate +the peculiarities of mind and body which the settlers inherited from +their ancestors; and the result has been a race which, while it presents +here and there an example of brilliant, meteoric genius, is, in the +main, both intellectually and physically inferior to the hardy denizens +of the North and West. The same influences have fostered the +aristocratic notions of the early settlers of the Southern States. With +every element of a monarchy in their midst, the Gulf States have long +been anything but a republic. De Bow, when, a few years since, he +broached in his Review the idea, and prophesied the establishment of a +monarch in our midst, was but giving expression to a feeling which had +long been dominant in the Southern heart. All their institutions, +associations, and reminiscences have tended steadily to this result, and +in the event of the success of the rebellion, it needs but some bold +apostle to take upon himself the propagation and execution of the plan, +to make the idea a startling reality. And herein lies the secret of the +sympathy of the English aristocracy with the confederates in their +struggle for independent existence.</p> + +<p>The Puritan, guided by the hand of God, planted his future abode on the +shores of New England, a land truly congenial to him, whose whole mental +and physical life had hitherto been one of storm and tempest. Nor could +a fitter type in the human race have been found than he to tame the +rock-crowned hills, to brave the rigors of such winters as Old England +never knew, and the lurking dangers at the hands of a powerful and +jealous race. Here was no place for indolence and luxurious ease. Only +by the most persevering and painful labors could the bleak hills and +gorge-like valleys be made to yield the fruits of life. Only by +unremitting energy and the most patient self-denial could starvation be +kept from his door, while constant watchfulness and never-flinching +courage were required to ward off the many dangers that beset his path. +Nature herself seemed pitted against him to contest every inch of his +progress. But his nature was as stern and rough as that of the land he +had come to tame. Accustomed to move steadily on in the pursuit of some +one great purpose, to surmount every obstacle and crush every +impediment, looking neither to the right nor the left, nor even pausing +to pluck the flowrets that bloomed by the wayside, there was for him no +such word as fail. Here the unbounded resources and exhaustless energy +of body and mind found fitting scope. What to ordinary men would seem +but hopeless, cheerless toil, was to him but pastime. The Puritan was +just the man for New England, and New England the land for the Puritan. +How he succeeded let all Christendom proclaim, for his works were not +for himself nor his immediate posterity, but for the whole world.</p> + +<p>But it is not so much with the results of his labors that we have to do +as with their effects upon himself and his posterity. Here, as in the +case of the Cavalier, every circumstance of his life tended to aggravate +the hereditary peculiarities of his class. The success of his +enterprise, the crowning of those hopes which had led him to cast off +all ties of the old world, the lofty spirit which induced him to reject +all external aid, and, above all, the crisp, free mountain air he +breathed, begot in him a feeling of independence and superiority, and, +at the same time, ideas of social equality, which have made them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_621" id="Page_621">[Pg 621]</a></span>selves +manifest to all time. Where all were toilful laborers, and few possessed +more than a sufficiency of worldly goods to provide for the necessities +of the day, there was no room for the distinctions of rank. Power, with +them, resided in the masses; the results of their labor were common +stock; their interests were one and the same. Add to these facts their +ancient hatred of the aristocracy, and we have the influences Under +which New England has ever tended to republicanism. The Puritan race has +ever been republican to the core, and this is one great and vital +respect in which they have continually diverged from their Southern +brethren.</p> + +<p>Yet with, all their virtues, with all their sublime heroism, was blended +an inordinate, morbid selfishness. Shut in within their little republic +from all Communion with the outer world, lacking the healthful +influences of conflicting ideas and that moral attrition which polishes +the cosmopolitan man, enlarging his views of life and giving broader +scope as well to the active energies of the soul as to the kinder +sympathies and benevolent sensibilities of the heart, this little +community became more set in their traditional opinions, and gradually +imbibed a hearty contempt for all beyond the pale of their own religious +belief, which soon extended to all without the bounds which +circumscribed their narrow settlements. Living alike, thinking alike, +feeling alike, placing under solemn ban all speculations in religion, +and even all research into the deeper mysteries of natural science, +grinding with iron heel the very germ of intellectual progress, in their +blind presumption they would have closed the doors of heaven itself upon +all mankind save the called and elected of the Puritan faith. This +intellectual life was one of mere abstractions, and as a natural +consequence all their thoughts and emotions, their joys and sorrows, +their loves and hatreds, became morbid to the last degree. But the bent +bow will seek release; the reaction came at last, and the astonishing +mental progress of the New England of to-day, the wild speculation upon +all questions of morals and religion, rivalling in their daring scope +the most impious theories of the German metaphysicians, which our New +England fosters and sustains, and above all, the proverbial trickery of +the Yankee race, are but the reaction of the stern and gloomy tenets of +that olden time which would have made of our earth a charnel house +crowded with mouldering bones.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this intensely morbid Puritan life, no more eligible +object could have been presented for the exercise of their bitterest +antipathies than the descendants of their ancient enemies, the +Cavaliers,—who were already rivalling them in the South, and who, as we +have shown, were equally ready to cast or lift the gauntlet. Occupying +the very extremes of religious faith, radically differing in their views +of public polity, of bitterly hostile antecedents and traditions, the +one looking upon the other as an outcast from salvation itself, and the +other in its turn nothing loth brands its opponent with the epithets of +surly, hypocritical, psalm-singing knaves, then as now, and as they have +ever been since the foundations of our country were laid, these two +classes stood arrayed against each other in every respect save that of +open, carnal warfare. The bitterest of foes in the beginning, +diametrically opposed in every possible respect, each has plodded on in +his own narrow path, and the two paths have continually diverged to our +day, and the present outbreak is but as the breaking of a sore which has +long been ripe. It is of such antagonisms that nations are made: it is +but differences such as these that have separated the common stock of +Adam into so many distinct races and nationalities through all the ages +of the world. Such a result we see to-day in our country, in two +separate and distinct nations, hitherto nominally united under one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_622" id="Page_622">[Pg 622]</a></span> form +of government—nations as distinct as ever were the Roman and the Greek. +As the Cavalier of the Cromwellian era was a horror to the pharisaical +Puritan, and the Puritan in his turn a contempt and an abomination to +the reckless, pleasure-hunting Cavalier, so to-day is the +'psalm-singing, clock-peddling Yankee' a foul odor to the fastidious +nostrils of the lordly Southerner, and the reckless prodigal, dissipated +and soul-selling planter a thorn in the flesh of Puritan morality. The +Yankee is to the Southerner a synonym for all that is low and base and +cunning, and the Southerner is to the Yankee the embodiment of all +worthlessness and crime. The same spirit is observable in those Northern +States which were settled by a mixed emigration from both portions of +the country, and the fact is well known that even in those loyal Western +States where the Southern element most predominates, is found the +bitterest hatred and denunciation of the Yankee; so that he is no sage +who draws the line east and west, north and south, and in every mixed +community, between the descendant of the Cavalier, and the man of +Puritan stock. Shall any one say that this is but the result of the war? +Where then does history record a like instance? Where can be found the +record of a civil war where the people, descended from a common stock +and bound together by a common interest, sprang with such alacrity to +the call to arms, and waged a war so relentless and cruel even in its +very commencement, except there had been radical antagonisms existing +through a long series of years?</p> + +<p>But it may be urged that a large portion of the Southern population are +emigrants from the New England States, and consequently of Puritan +descent, and that while this very class of slaveholders are notoriously +the most cruel and exacting of masters, they stand in the front ranks of +secession and are the most deadly enemies of the North. True, but the +enmity of this class, wherever it exists, is that of the most sordid, +unprincipled self-interest. Gold is their god, and all things else are +sacrificed to the unhallowed lust. But this enmity is oftentimes assumed +from motives of self-preservation. Objects of suspicion to the +Simon-Pure Southerner from the very fact of their nativity, and visited +with the most horrible retribution wherever they have shown a leaning +toward the land of their birth, they find it necessary to out-herod +Herod in order to preserve their social status and the possessions which +are their earthly all. Hence, to disarm suspicion, often those have been +made to take the more prominent positions in this tragic drama who, did +circumstances permit the expression of their true sentiments, would be +found to be at heart the most truly loyal citizens of the South. Another +class—and this includes more particularly the descendants of Northern +emigrants—born and bred among the moral influences of Southern society, +imbibing all the ideas and prejudices of their surroundings, lose their +identity as effectually as the raindrop is lost in the surging billows +of the ocean. Drinking in with their years the prevailing hatred of the +very stock from which their own descent is derived, they become part and +parcel of the people among whom their lot is cast, and ordinarily run to +the farthest extreme of the new nationality. Herein is seen the fallacy +of the ancient maxim—<i>Cœlum, non animum mutant qui trans mare +currant</i>. The all-potent influence of self-interest, the overshadowing +sway of undisputed dogmas, soon sweep away the lessons and prejudices of +earlier years, and effectually transform the foreign born into the +citizen of the new clime and nation. Were the population of the South +more equally divided between the Northern and Southern born, this would +not be the case; but in all the slave-holding States the Cavalier +element so overwhelmingly predominates as to crush before it all +opposing ideas, prejudices, and opinions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_623" id="Page_623">[Pg 623]</a></span></p> + +<p>This radical antagonism, smouldering for years, found its first great +expression in the Tariff question of 1832, which was not so much a +question of State rights and agricultural interests as the vehicle, or +rather the weapon of the pent-up hatred of years. General Jackson saw +the true bearing and origin of the dispute; and when he prophesied that +the slavery question would be the next issue sprung by the designing +revolutionists of the South, he did but show his appreciation of the +great fact of the moral and physical antagonism between the descendants +of the Cavalier and the Puritan. He might, and probably would, had +circumstances required it, have gone farther, and prophesied, that +should the slavery question in its turn be settled, some other cause of +dispute would soon be found and grasped by the apostles of separation +and revolution, as a means for the accomplishment of their great design. +He alone, of all our statesmen, with his far-seeing eye saw and +appreciated the tremendous issue involved. He was sternly opposed to the +compromise which was subsequently made, well knowing that if the +question were not then settled, at once and forever, the flame was but +smothered for a time, to break out again in future years, with far +greater vehemence. His policy was to crush the malcontents by the strong +arm of power, to make such a display of the strength and resources of +the Federal Government, such an example of the fate which must ever +await treason in our midst, and, above all, such a convincing +manifestation of the utter hopelessness of all attempts to destroy a +great and good government, deriving its powers and functions from the +people themselves, as to put forever at rest the machinations of +traitors and anarchists. Experience has shown that he was right, and +shown us, too, that if, in this our day, a second compromise be adopted, +and a peace patched up upon a basis ignoring the true cause of dispute, +or of oblivion to the past, or, worst of all, of yielding, on our part, +one jot or tittle to the demands of our antagonists, as sure as there is +a God in heaven—as sure as that retribution follows the sinner, the war +will have to be fought over again, more savage, more bloody, and more +desolating than ever, by our posterity, if not even in our own time. +Fought over again, not once, but again and again, as often as the +revolving wheel of human progress and enlightenment shall bring to the +surface the black waters of the steaming cesspool below.</p> + +<p>But what of the result? Watchman! what of the night? The night is stormy +and dark; men's hearts are failing them for fear; those who see clearly +in the day time, now grope helplessly in the dark; the blind are leading +the blind; society is at a stand still, waiting and watching for the +coming day. Yet afar off in the east the patriot's eye may even now see +the first faint streaks of that light which shall usher in the golden +dawn.</p> + +<p>The result, in the event of the success of the North, is too palpable to +require a moment's thought, involving, as it does, every possible +blessing to our race, every advantage to the progress of the new +theories of social equality, and of man's capacity for self-government. +But what in the other event? The evils would be legion—countless in +number and direful in effect, not to us alone, but to the whole American +race. First and foremost is that hydra <i>precedent</i>. We are fighting, not +alone for the stability of any particular form of government, not alone +for the sustaining of an administration, not alone for the upholding of +those God-given ideas which have made America the most favored land on +earth; but against a PRECEDENT, which involves and would destroy them +all. Precedent which is, and ever has been, all powerful to overturn +theories and systems, to topple kings from their thrones, and plunge +nations into slavery. Of all dangers which every liberal form of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_624" id="Page_624">[Pg 624]</a></span> +government has to shun, none is so deadly as this. Grave and venerable +judges, sages though they may be, rest upon it, and thereon base +decisions involving millions of property, and sometimes life itself. And +though, as Blackstone has declared, a bad precedent in law is +comparatively harmless, inasmuch as succeeding judges are in no wise +bound by it, but free, and in fact bound to decide the law as it was +before the evil precedent was established, and to interpret it as it +ought to be, yet in national affairs this is not so. No matter how bad +or absurd a precedent may be, designing men will be found in all ages +and climes to avail themselves of it, honestly or dishonestly. Men's +minds are not constructed alike, and that which seems evil to one is to +another good. The foulest of all theories, the basest of systems, the +most suicidal of policies, will at all times find sincerely honest +adherents and supporters. Individuality of mind admits a million of +shades and degrees of right and wrong. Moreover, an idea once broached +before the people, no matter how detestable it may at first appear, is +already halfway advanced upon the road to execution. Thousands of +criminals have been executed for crimes their minds would never have +conceived save for the suggestion of some artful apostle of evil. Give +me but a precedent once firmly established, I care not how bad it may +be, and I shall revolutionize the world.</p> + +<p>And what is the precedent against which we have to contend? It is that +of separation. If secession would stop where it has begun, if the result +of our defeat were to be but two great republics of the North and South +upon our continent, there would still be room for the development of +both, and we might even look forward to such a peace with some degree of +complacency, and with hope for a future of happiness and prosperity. But +it will not stop here. As surely as that an overruling Providence +directs the affairs of men, the movement will go on until there are as +many separate and hostile republics as there are States in our Union. +The mutterings of separation—which have already been heard in the West, +are but the precursors of the storm which can only be forever allayed by +the triumph of our arms in the present contest. The slightest +disagreement between the East and the West would soon be made a pretext +for secession: the least dispute or conflicting interest between any two +great portions of our country would find a speedy remedy in separation. +The West would divide from the East, the Atlantic States from the Lake +States, the Mississippi States from the Pacific, the North Pacific +States from the South Pacific, and where would be the end? Already the +great West has learned her own gigantic strength, which before she knew +not that she possessed, and if the time should come when her interests +should apparently point in a different direction from those of the East, +with such a precedent before her, would she not avail herself of that +new-found strength? Already the soldiers of the West have begun to sneer +at the achievements of those of the East, and to consider themselves the +braver and the manlier of the two. Are these not the signs of the times? +And do they not betoken a future of anarchy in the event of the +establishment of this most pernicious and monstrous of doctrines?</p> + +<p>And is it to be expected that these many republics, monarchies, +aristocracies, or whatever form they may take, will long remain at peace +with each other? Ask the muse who presides over the pages of history how +often has her pen been called upon to record the circumstance of +separate nations, of the same blood and antecedents, lying quietly and +peaceably beside each other. Family quarrels are proverbially the most +bitter of all on earth, and family hatreds the most unrelenting. It was +but the ties of kin that lent such a character of ferocity to our wars +with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_625" id="Page_625">[Pg 625]</a></span> England and to the present contest with the South.</p> + +<p>But what shall we say of that scheme which aims at a reconstruction of +the Union by leaving New England out? Simply this: that, aside from any +considerations of policy—without attempting to argue the question of a +good or evil result from such a movement, the answer is plain enough: +<i>you cannot do it</i>—and that which is impossible needs no argument for +or against. The energy and activity of mind and body, the lofty +independence, the firm self-reliance, the dogged determination and +undaunted adherence to a great and high purpose, of the whole Saxon +race, is concentrated in the people of that mountain land. Theirs have +been the heads to plan and the hands to execute every great work we have +accomplished since the foundation of our nationality. The railroads and +canals and telegraphs of the North, the South, the East, and the West +are their work; and their capital and their inventive, energetic minds +still shape and control every great commercial enterprise of our land. +Their sturdy emigrants have pushed civilization across the boundless +prairies of the West, and opened the primeval forests of the Pacific +States. Go where you will on the face of the earth, and you find them +there before you, and ever the same busy, tireless apostles of progress, +the leaders in every great work, and the rulers of commerce, everywhere +looked up to as the type of the executive mind, and, by the tacit +consent of Christendom, intrusted with the guidance of every enterprise +requiring pluck, perseverance, and ceaseless activity. And theirs will +still be the brains to control the destinies of our race, however +isolated they may become, however they may be made the objects of +distrust and contempt. Ay! shut them out if you will, and from that +moment New England becomes the Switzerland of America, the home of great +ideas and great men, the temple where Freedom shall take up her +everlasting abode, and the altar fires of Liberty shall never die away. +And her people will become the priests of that great religion which, +taking its rise in a lofty appreciation of the true end of human +existence, is already bursting out all over the Christian world, in +fitful flames, which shall yet become the devouring element that shall +wither and consume away oppression and kingcraft from the face of the +earth. Shut her out, then, if you will, but you cannot shut out the +flame which she shall kindle; you cannot shut out the tones of her +trumpet voice, proclaiming to the world the doctrines of eternal truth. +Self-reliant, possessing within themselves every element of success, her +people can and will make their way, as heretofore, alone and unaided. +Asking no favors of the world, they will pursue the even tenor of their +way, undisturbed by the mutterings and growlings of their impotent foes, +while their little republic, like a city set upon a hill, continues to +reflect from her glittering pinnacles the sunlight of heaven to all +quarters of the earth. The petty vengeance which the disunionists of +to-day are attempting to wreak upon her will recoil upon their own +heads, and they themselves may yet be forced some day to look to little +New England as their redeemer from anarchy. A purely commercial people, +her interests are not circumscribed by her narrow geographical limits, +but are, as well as her tastes and sympathies, cosmopolitan. She +stretches out her feelers to all parts of the earth, wherever her +wandering sons may have betaken themselves, and fastens there a little +vine or creeper whose roots are still in her own bosom. It is a part and +a necessity of her very existence, to handle and direct catholic +interests. This, as well as her position in other respects, has made her +the arbiter of this nation and country, and you can no more shut her out +from participation in the affairs of this continent than you can shut in +the mighty river from its outlet to the ocean. And if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_626" id="Page_626">[Pg 626]</a></span> you cut her off, +see to it that she does not become the little Rome whose conquering arms +shall reduce all the nations of the continent to her sway.</p> + +<p>No! New England has planted herself too deeply in the hearts of the +American people—she has sprinkled too many of her scions among the +population of the West and South—to allow of a moment's serious thought +of cutting her off from our communion. The cry is but the party cry of +the designing and evil disposed, the traitors to our name and nation; +and with the crushing out of the rebellion and the restoration of our +nationality; it will pass away forever.</p> + +<p>But to return to the direct results of the war. Having shown the +threatened evils of separation, our province leads us no farther, for +this comprises <i>all</i> the evils within the scope of man's imagination. +See, then, the issue involved: in our success lie all our hopes of +future stability and prosperity; in our failure lies simply—inevitable +ruin. With such a prospect before them—with existence itself hanging in +the balance—why are the people of the North asleep? Why will they not +see the true bearings of the war in this light, and arise in all their +power and strength, determined to crush out this infamous rebellion, +even at the cost of the last dollar and the last drop of blood! Shall we +grumble at the cost of the war? Shall we growl over the paltry taxes +which, even yet, are scarcely felt? Shall the father grieve for the loss +of half his wealth which goes to redeem his only son from death—his +'darling from the power of the lions'? Shall the house-holder grumble +over the reward he has offered for the rescue of his wife and little +ones from the burning house? Shall the felon begrudge the last cent of +his earthly possessions that purchases his relief from the gallows? +Better that we should all be ruined—better that the land should be +entirely depleted of its youth, and the country irretrievably in debt, +with a prospect of a future and lasting peace, than a compromise now, +with the inevitable certainty of everlasting war and tumult and +bloodshed, worse, a thousand times worse than that of the South American +States. Shall we make a peace now, only that we may again go to war +among ourselves? Would this not be literally 'jumping out of the frying +pan into the fire'? The <i>war</i> men of the North are the men of peace, and +the so-called peace men are the men of eternal war; those are they who +would prolong the miseries of our country, simply by turning them in a +new direction—by turning all our hostilities into our own bosoms and +against out own wives and children. Nay I there can be no pausing now. +We have everything to gain by prosecuting the war to the bitter, even +ruinous end; everything to lose by leaving the work half done. The South +is said to be fighting for its very existence; yet not by a thousand +degrees can this be as truly said of them as of us. Therefore should our +earnestness, our enthusiasm, our determination, our <i>desperation</i> be a +thousand times greater than theirs. Do you tell me that we cannot +conquer so united, so brave, and so desperate a people? I answer, WE +MUST. In the whole wide world of human destiny there is no other road +left open for us; the path to defeat is blocked by our own dead bodies. +Unless the people of the North arouse and take hold of the work with an +energy, an earnestness of purpose, to which the past bears no parallel, +too late will they repent the folly of their own supineness, their own +blindness. As in the affairs of men, so in those of nations, there is a +critical point when those who hope for success must seize the winged +moment as it flies and work steadily on with singleness of aim and +unchangeable, unfaltering devotion of purpose. That moment, once past, +will never return. Now is our golden opportunity, and according as we +improve or neglect it will our future be one of greatness and power or +one of utter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_627" id="Page_627">[Pg 627]</a></span> nothingness among the nations of the earth. No subsequent +time can repair the errors or failures of to-day.</p> + +<p>Since the greater part of this article was written, the prospect of our +success has immeasurably brightened. But let us not by the fairness of +the sky be lulled into a false sense of security; let us not be again +deceived by the <i>ignis fatuus</i> glare which plays around our banners, and +which has already so often lured us to forgetfulness and defeat. For the +storm may again break forth in a moment when we think not of it, and +from a quarter where we seemed the most secure. A single week may +reverse every move upon the great chess board of strategy. There should +be no relaxation of the sinews of war until the end is accomplished. So +should we be safest in our watchfulness and strength, and, by the +irresistible influence of overwhelming numbers and might, render that +permanent which is now but evanescent.</p> + +<p>But, it will be asked, if there is between North and South an antipathy +so deep seated and of such long standing, how shall we ever succeed in +conquering a lasting peace? how shall we ever persuade the people of the +South to live in amity with a race so cordially hated and despised? The +question has often been asked, but always by those faint-hearted ones +whose clamors for a disgraceful peace have added strength to the cause +of our opponents. The answer is so plain that it requires no +demonstration. There is but one remedy for so sore a disease, and +however severe it may be, however revolting to the tender sensibilities +of peace-loving men, the inevitable and inexorable <span class="smcap">must</span> urges +it on to execution, and stands like a giant, blocking up every other +path. It is like those dangerous remedies which the physician applies +when the patient's recovery is otherwise utterly hopeless, and which +must result either in recovery or in death by its own agency rather than +that of the disease. Concession has been tried in vain, 'moral suasion' +has been proved to be of no avail. The South must be shown how entirely +hopeless must be every effort, in all time, to overturn such a +government as ours. They must be made to feel our immense superiority in +power and resources; they must be shown in unmistakable colors the +unconquerable might of nationality in strong contrast with the weakness +of sectionalism, as well as their own dependence upon the North; in a +word, every atom of resistance must be utterly and forever crushed out +by brute force. To no other argument will they listen, as experience has +proved; and this 'last resort of kings' must be exerted in all its +strength and proclaimed in thunder tones, even though its reverberations +should shake the earth to its very core. This done, and peace once more +established, the South must be, <i>not</i> abolitionized, not colonized, not +Puritanized, nor yet oppressed, but <span class="smcap">Americanized</span>. They must be +familiarized with those immortal principles of justice and freedom, to +which they have hitherto been strangers, which lie at the heart of all +national success among an enlightened and Christian people. They must be +made acquainted with the all-important fact that we are a nation of one +blood, one common ancestry; that we can never live at peace as separate +nationalities, and that only in unity and mutual concession and +forbearance can a glorious destiny be wrought out for our common +country. <i>Then</i>, not now, will be the time for conciliation on our part, +but yet conciliation never divided from the utmost vigilance and a firm +support of the doctrine of national supremacy, as opposed to, and +paramount to the iniquitous dogma of State rights. The people of the +North must first divest themselves of all prejudices, all hereditary +antipathies, and wipe away old scores in the dawn of a golden future. +Then will our brethren of the South not be slow to respond to the +proffered peace and good will and brotherly kindness, and again we +shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_628" id="Page_628">[Pg 628]</a></span> become a prosperous, united, and happy people.</p> + +<p>And what a future lies before our country! What a wealth of uncultivated +fields lies waiting for the plough of the adventurous emigrant! What +unmeasured wilds wait but for the touch of enlightened and educated +labor, to blossom like the rose, to become the site of great cities and +smiling villages, the resting place of the wanderer from all quarters of +the globe, the residence of a great people, the component parts of a +mighty nation whose parallel earth has not seen since the days of the +creation! It needs but ordinary human foresight to see that here is to +be the fountain head, the permanent abiding place, of four great +interests, with which we shall rule the world: manufactures, grain, +cotton, and wine. The Great West is to feed all Europe with her harvests +of yellow grain; the South, with her cotton interest, is to clothe, not +Europe only, but the world; the Pacific States will be the 'vineland' of +America, furnishing the wherewithal to 'gladden the heart of man,' while +the manufactures of New England and the Middle States shall furnish the +implements of labor to the brethren all over the continent, and turn the +raw material both of the South and of their own sheep-feeding hills into +garments for the toiling millions of America. Here, then, we shall +produce, as no other country can, the great staples of life; and when we +add to them those considerable minor interests which we share more +equally with the rest of the world, namely, wool-growing and <i>mining</i>, +as well of the precious ores as of coal and the baser metals, how +stupendous seem our resources, how tremendous the influence we are to +wield among the great human family! And is it a necessity of social life +that these great interests should jar? that political and commercial +antagonisms should spring up between these cumulators of the world's +great stock of wealth, for no better reason than that their hands are +engaged upon a different work, or, rather, upon different branches of +the same great work of production? Nay, verily! So long as we are bound +together by a common tie of country, living and working under the same +laws and institutions, such antagonisms can only exist in the trains of +designing demagogues. So far from conflicting, these great interests +will, from the very nature of the law of exchange, work harmoniously +together, blending the one into the other as perfectly fitting parts of +one concordant whole. One section will play into the hands of another, +sustaining each other from the very necessity of self-preservation; and +each will find in his brother the readiest consumer of the products of +his labor. Only in the event of separation can jealousies, antipathies, +and narrow-minded prejudices spring up between the different sections, +and healthy competition be degraded into low and mercenary jobbing; only +by separation can the onward march of the American race be retarded and +the arm of American industry paralyzed. Accursed, then, be the hand that +aims a blow at the foundations of our fair fabric of Liberty; thrice +accursed he whose voice is raised in the promulgation of those +pernicious doctrines whose end is to lead a great people astray.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_629" id="Page_629">[Pg 629]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GREAT_HEART" id="GREAT_HEART"></a>GREAT HEART.</h2> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great Heart is sitting beneath a tree:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Never a horse upon earth has he;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But he sings to the wind a hearty song,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Leaves of the oak trees rustling along:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Over the mountain and over the tide,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Over the valley and on let us ride!'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There's many a messenger riding past,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And many a skipper whose ship sails fast;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But none of them all, though he rides or rows,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flies as free as the heart of Great Heart goes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Free as the eagle and full as the tide:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'And over the valley and on let us ride!'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Many a sorrow might Great Heart know,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thick as the oak leaves which over him grow</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Many a trouble might Great Heart feel,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Close as the grass blades under his heel;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But sorrow will never by Great Heart bide,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'But tell me, good fellow, where Great Heart dwells?'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the wood, by the sea, in the city's cells;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the Honest, the Beautiful, and True</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are free to him as they are to you;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the wild birds whistle and waters glide,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Few of his fellows doth Great Heart see;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seldom he knows where their homes may be;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But the fays of the greenwood are still on earth—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To many a Great Heart they'll yet give birth;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And thousands of voices will sing in pride,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'All over the wide world and on let us ride!'</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_630" id="Page_630">[Pg 630]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_NOTICES" id="LITERARY_NOTICES"></a>LITERARY NOTICES</h2> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Life of Chopin</span>. By <span class="smcap">F. Liszt</span>. Published by F. Leypoldt: +Philadelphia.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Liszt's Life of Chopin! What a combination of names to wing the +imagination upward into the ethereal regions of beauty, pure art, and +lofty emotion! The imperial pianist discourses upon the genius and +peculiar gifts of his brother musician. Before us arises a vision of the +strong and fiery Hungarian, with clanger of steel, flash of spur, and +ring of hoof, compelling his audiences to attention and enthusiastic +admiration; and also of the gentle-mannered and suffering, but no less +fiery Pole, shrinking from all rude contact, and weaving enchanted +melodies and harmonies, teeming with ever-varying pictures of tender +love, hopeless despair, chivalric daring, religious resignation, +passionate pleading, eloquent disdain, the ardor of battle with the +thunder of artillery, the hut of the peasant with its pastoral +pleasures, and the assemblage of the noble, the distinguished, the +beautiful, with the nameless fascinations of feminine loveliness, the +witching caprices of conscious power,—while through all and above all +glows the memory of the glorious past and mournful present of his +beloved country. The book, in fact, opens a vista into modes of life, +manners of being, and trains of thought little known among us, and hence +is most deeply interesting. The style is eminently suited to the +subject, and the translation of Liszt's French is equal to the original. +This is saying much, but not too much; for when a cognate mind becomes +thoroughly imbued with the spirit of an author, the transmutation of his +ideas into another form of speech becomes a simple and natural process. +To those who already know Chopin and are striving to play his music, +this book will be invaluable, as giving a deep insight into the meaning +and proper mode of rendering his compositions. To those who know nothing +of him, and who are still floundering amid the <i>fade</i> and flimsy +productions that would fain hide their emptiness and vulgarity under the +noble name of music, this life of a true musician will reveal a new +world, a new purpose for the drudgery of daily practice, and the +expenditure of time, patience, and money.</p> + +<p>The work, however, is not alone useful for those especially interested +in music, but, being free from all repulsive technicalities, will be +found highly attractive to the general reader. It contains a subtle +dissection of a deeply interesting character, sketches of Heine, George +Sand, Eugene de la Croix, Mickiewicz, and other celebrities in the world +of literature and art, together with a most vivid portraiture of social +life in Poland, a land which has ever excited so much admiration for its +heroism, and compassion for its misfortunes.</p> + +<p>Mr. Leypoldt, the enterprising publisher of this work, merits the +encouragement of the American people, inasmuch as he has not feared to +risk the publication of a work deemed by many too excellent to be +generally appreciated by our reading community. He however has faith in +the good sense of that community, and so have we.</p> + +<p>Fragmentary portions of Liszt's 'Chopin,' about 60 pages out of 202, +were translated by Mr. Dwight of Boston, and appeared in the 'Journal of +Music.' Those portions were favorably received, and all who thus formed +a partial acquaintance with the work will doubtless desire now to +complete their knowledge, especially as some of the most vivid and +characteristic chapters were omitted.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My Diary North and South</span>. By <span class="smcap">William Howard Russell</span>. +T. O. H. P. Burnham. New York: O. S. Felt, 36 Walker Street. 1863. +(Cloth, one dollar; paper covers, fifty cents.)</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is amusing to read over, at this stage of the war, these letters, in +which the Thunderer, as represented by Mr. Russell, dwindled down to a +very small squib indeed. Few men ever prophesied more brazenly as to the +war,—very few ever had their prophecies so pitiably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_631" id="Page_631">[Pg 631]</a></span> falsified. Other +men have guessed right now and then, by chance; but poor Russell +contrived, by dint of conceit and natural obtuseness, to make himself as +thoroughly ridiculous to those who should review him in the future as +was well possible. It is, however, to be hoped that these letters will +be extensively read, that the public may now see who and <i>what</i> the +correspondent really was, through whom England was to be specially +instructed as to the merits of this country and its war. When we +remember the advantages which poor Russell enjoyed for acquiring +information, his neglect of matters of importance seems amazing—until +we find, in scores of petty personal matters and silly egotisms, a key +to the whole. He is a small-souled man, utterly incapable of mastering +the great principles involved in this war,—a man petrified in English +conceit, and at the end of his art when, like a twopenny reporter, he +has made a smart little sneer at something or somebody. He writes on +America as Sala wrote on Russia, in the same petty, frivolous vein, with +the same cockney smartness; but fails to be funny, whereas Sala +frequently succeeds. He came here to write for England, not the truth, +but something which his readers <i>expected</i>. His object was to supply a +demand, and he did it. He learned nothing, and returned as ignorant, so +far as really <i>understanding</i> the problems he purposed to study, as he +came. Those who can penetrate the depths of such pitiful characters +cannot fail to feel true sorrow that men should exist to whom all life, +all duty, every opportunity to tell great truths and to do good, should +simply appear as opportunities to turn out a <i>pièce de manufacture</i>, and +earn salaries. Mr. Russell could have done a great work in these +letters—he leaves the impression on our minds that in <i>his</i> opinion his +boots and his breakfast were to him matters of much more importance than +the future of all North America.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Wanderings of a Beauty</span>: A Tale of the Real and Ideal. By +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Edwin James</span>. New York: Carleton. 1863.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>An entertaining little romance, which will be specially acceptable to +the 'regular English novel' devourers—a by no means inconsiderable +proportion of the public. Its heroine—a beauty—moves in English +society, is presented to the Queen, is victimized by a rascally husband +or two, and visits America, where she ends her adventures—<i>à la Marble +Faun</i>—rather more obscurely than we could have wished, by 'enduring and +suffering,' but on the whole happily, so far as sentiment is concerned. +As the story contains to perfection every element of the most popular +English novels of the day, yet in a more highly concentrated form than +they usually present, we have no doubt that its sale will be very great. +The volume contains a very beautifully engraved portrait-vignette, +'after a miniature by Thorburn,' which is worth the price of the book, +and is neatly bound. Gentlemen wishing to make an acceptable gift to +novel-reading friends will find the 'Wanderings of a Beauty' well suited +to the purpose.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner of State</span>. By <span class="smcap">D. H. Mahoney</span>. New York: +Carleton. 1863.</p></blockquote> + +<p>We may well ask 'what sustains the hopes of the rebels?' when such a +mass of treason as this wretched volume contains is suffered to be +freely published and circulated. That the Administration can find the +force to oppose open foes in the field, and yet make no exertion to +suppress traitors at home who are doing far more than any armed rebels +to reduce our country to ruin, is a paradox for whose solution we have +for some time waited, <i>not</i> by any means in patience.</p> + +<p>That a Copperhead, who from his own account richly deserves the halter, +should have the impudence to publish a complaint of being simply +<i>imprisoned</i>, is indeed amusing. But could the mass of vindictiveness, +sophistry, and vulgarity which these pages contain be simply submitted +to impartial and intelligent men, we should have little dread of any +great harm resulting from them. Unfortunately this Copperhead poison, +with its subtle falsehoods and detestable special pleading, its habeas +corpus side-issues and Golden-Circle slanders, is industriously +circulated among many who are still frightened by the old bugbear of +'Abolition,' and who, like the majority in all wars whatever, have +accustomed themselves to grumble at those who conduct hostilities. Such +persons do not reflect that a great crisis requires great measures, and +that in a war involving such a tremendous issue as the preservation of +the Federal Union and the development of the grandest phase which human +progress has ever assumed, we are not to give up everything to our foes +because Mr. Mahoney and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_632" id="Page_632">[Pg 632]</a></span> a few congenial traitors have, justly or +unjustly, been kept on crackers and tough beef. When a city burns and it +is necessary to blow up houses with gunpowder, it is no time to be +talking of actions for trespass.</p> + +<p>If we had ever had a doubt of the rightfulness of the course which +Government has taken in imprisoning Copperheads, it would have been +removed on reading this miserable book. A man who holds on one page that +every private soldier is to be guided by his own will as regards obeying +orders, and on another sneers at our army as demoralized,—who calls +himself a friend of the Union, and is yet a sympathizer with the enemies +of the Union,—who abuses in the vilest manner our Government and its +officers in a crisis like the present, is one who, according to all +precedents of justice, should be richly punished under military law, if +the civil arm be too weak to grasp him. It was such Democrats as +Mahoney, who yelled out indignantly in the beginning at every measure +which was taken to protect us against the enemy, who, when they had +nearly ruined our cause by their efforts, attributed the results of +their treason to the Administration, and who now, changing their cry, +instead of clamoring for more vigor against the rebels, boldly hurrah +for the rebellion itself. It is strange that they cannot see that they +are now bringing themselves out distinctly as tories, and men to be +branded in history. Do they suppose that such a revolution as this—a +revolution of human rights and free labor against the last great form of +tyranny—is going <i>backward</i>? Do the events of the last thirty years +indicate that Southern aristocracy and Copperhead ignorance and evil are +to achieve a final victory over republicanism? Yet it is in this faith, +that demagoguism will be stronger than a great principle, that such men +as Mahoney write and live.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Wild Scenes in South America</span>; or, Life in the Llanos of +Venezuela. By <span class="smcap">Don Ramon Paez</span>. New York: Charles Scribner, 124 +Grand Street.</p></blockquote> + +<p>The work before us takes the reader not only through all the adventures +and chances of the desperate life of the llaneros or herdsmen of South +America, but also gives many startling scenes from the revolutions of +Colombia, embracing an excellent biography of the truly great general +Paez, the friend and colleague of Bolivar. But when we remember that it +contains such a mass of valuable historical material, from the pen of a +son of General Paez, aide-de-camp to his father, and an eyewitness of, +or actor in, some of the bloody scenes of a civil war, and that even the +description of herdsman's life is filled with deeply interesting +scientific records of the natural history and botany of our southern +continent, it seems strange that such a volume could appear under a +title smacking of the veriest book-making for the cheap Western market.</p> + +<p>The writer, Don Ramon Paez, who was born among the people whom he +describes, and was afterward well educated in England, was probably the +best qualified man in South America to depict the life of the llaneros, +of whom his father was long the literal chief. Half of his pages are +occupied with the account of a grand cattle-hunt, involving sufferings +and adventures of a very varied and remarkable description, giving the +world, we believe, the best account of wild herdsman American-Spanish +life ever written. A very curious study of the character of the writer +himself is one of the many interesting traits of this volume. A love of +literature, of science, of much that is beautiful and refined, contrasts +piquantly with occasional glimpses of true Creole character, and of a +son of 'the best horseman in South America,' who is too much at home +among the fierce people whom he describes to fully assume the tone of a +foreigner and amateur. In this latter respect Don Ramon seems to have +been influenced by regarding as models the works of European travellers, +as well as by a very commendable spirit of modesty; for modest he +certainly is when speaking of himself, when we consider the temptations +to self-glorification which his adventures would have presented to any +of the English adventurers of the present day!</p> + +<p>The book cannot fail to be extensively read, since it is not only +entertaining, but instructive. Its sketches of the <i>causes</i> of the +continual civil wars in South America are not only explanatory, but may +serve as a lesson to us in this country to give ourselves heart and soul +to the Union, and to crush out treason and faction by every means in our +power. If the rebels and Copperheads triumph, we shall soon see the +United States reduced to the frightful anarchy of South America.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + <h1>The</h1> + <h1>Continental Monthly.</h1> + + +<p>The readers of the <span class="smcap">Continental</span> are aware of the important +position it has assumed, of the influence which it exerts, and of the +brilliant array of political and literary talent of the highest order +which supports it. No publication of the kind has, in this country, so +successfully combined the energy and freedom of the daily newspaper with +the higher literary tone of the first-class monthly; and it is very +certain that no magazine has given wider range to its contributors, or +preserved itself so completely from the narrow influences of party or of +faction. In times like the present, such a journal is either a power in +the land or it is nothing. That the <span class="smcap">Continental</span> is not the +latter is abundantly evidenced <i>by what it has done</i>—by the reflection +of its counsels in many important public events, and in the character +and power of those who are its staunchest supporters.</p> + +<p>Though but little more than a year has elapsed since the +<span class="smcap">Continental</span> was first established, it has during that time +acquired a strength and a political significance elevating it to a +position far above that previously occupied by any publication of the +kind in America. In proof of which assertion we call attention to the +following facts:</p> + +<p>1. Of its <span class="smcap">political</span> articles republished in pamphlet form, a +single one has had, thus far, a circulation of <i>one hundred and six +thousand</i> copies.</p> + +<p>2. From its <span class="smcap">literary</span> department, a single serial novel, "Among +the Pines," has, within a very few months, sold nearly <i>thirty-five +thousand</i> copies. Two other series of its literary articles have also +been republished in book form, while the first portion of a third is +already in press.</p> + +<p>No more conclusive facts need be alleged to prove the excellence of the +contributions to the <span class="smcap">Continental</span>, or their <i>extraordinary +popularity;</i> and its conductors are determined that it shall not fall +behind. Preserving all "the boldness, vigor, and ability" which a +thousand journals have attributed to it, it will greatly enlarge its +circle of action, and discuss, fearlessly and frankly, every principle +involved in the great questions of the day. The first minds of the +country, embracing the men most familiar with its diplomacy and most +distinguished for ability, are among its contributors; and it is no mere +"flattering promise of a prospectus" to say that this "magazine for the +times" will employ the first intellect in America, under auspices which +no publication ever enjoyed before in this country.</p> + +<p>While the <span class="smcap">Continental</span> will express decided opinions on the +great questions of the day, it will not be a mere political journal: +much the larger portion of its columns will be enlivened, as heretofore, +by tales, poetry, and humor. In a word, the <span class="smcap">Continental</span> will be +found, under its new staff of Editors, occupying a position and +presenting attractions never before found in a magazine.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h4>TERMS TO CLUBS.</h4> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" width="70%" cellspacing="0" summary="Subscription Costs"> +<tr><td align='left'>Two copies for one year,</td><td align='left'>Five dollars.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Three copies for one year,</td><td align='left'>Six dollars.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Six copies for one year,</td><td align='left'>Eleven dollars.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Eleven copies for one year,</td><td align='left'>Twenty dollars.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Twenty copies for one year,</td><td align='left'>Thirty-six dollars.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align='center'>PAID IN ADVANCE</td><td align='left'> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<p class='center'><i>Postage, Thirty-six cents a year</i>, to be paid <span class="smcap">by the +Subscriber</span>.</p> + +<h4>SINGLE COPIES.</h4> + +<p class='center'>Three dollars a year, <span class="smcap">in advance</span>. <i>Postage paid by the +Publisher</i>.</p> + + +<p class='center'>JOHN F. TROW, 50 Greene St., N. Y.,<br /> +PUBLISHER FOR THE PROPRIETORS.</p> + + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgfinger.jpg" alt="pointing finger" title="pointing finger" /></div><p>As an Inducement to new subscribers, the +Publisher offers the following liberal premiums:</p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgfinger.jpg" alt="pointing finger" title="pointing finger" /></div><p>Any person remitting $3, in advance, will +receive the magazine from July, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing +the whole of Mr. <span class="smcap">Kimball's</span> and Mr. <span class="smcap">Kirke's</span> new +serials, which are alone worth the price of subscription. Or, if +preferred, a subscriber can take the magazine for 1863 and a copy of +"Among the Pines," or of "Undercurrents of Wall Street," by <span class="smcap">R. B. +Kimball</span>, bound in cloth, or of "Sunshine in Thought," by +<span class="smcap">Charles Godfrey Leland</span> (retail price, $1. 25.) The book to be sent postage paid.</p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgfinger.jpg" alt="pointing finger" title="pointing finger" /></div><p>Any person remitting $4.50, will receive the +magazine from its commencement, January, 1862, to January, 1864, thus +securing Mr. <span class="smcap">Kimball's</span> "Was He Successful? "and <span class="smcap">Mr. +Kirke's</span> "Among the Pines," and "Merchant's Story," and nearly 3,000 +octavo pages of the best literature in the world. Premium subscribers to +pay their own postage.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imgffl.jpg" alt="Finest Farming Lands" title="Finest Farming Lands" /></div> + + +<p><b>EQUAL TO ANY IN THE WORLD!!!</b></p> + +<p>MAY BE PROCURED</p> + +<p><b>At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE,</b></p> + +<p>Near Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of +Civilization.</p> + +<p>1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80, 120, 160 Acres and upwards, in +ILLINOIS, the Garden State of America.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the +beautiful and fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their +Railroad. 700 MILES IN LENGTH, upon the most Favorable Terms for +enabling Farmers, Manufacturers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for +themselves and their families a competency, and a HOME they can call +THEIR OWN, as will appear from the following statements:</p> + +<p>ILLINOIS.</p> + +<p>Is about equal in extent to England, with a population of 1,722,666, and +a soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of the +Mississippi offers so great an inducement to the settler as the State of +Illinois. There is no part of the world where all the conditions of +climate and soil so admirably combine to produce those two great +staples, <span class="smcap">Corn</span> and <span class="smcap">Wheat</span>.</p> + +<p>CLIMATE.</p> + +<p>Nowhere can the Industrious farmer secure such immediate results from +his labor as on these deep, rich, loamy soils, cultivated with so much +ease. The climate from the extreme southern part of the State to the +Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis Railroad, a distance of nearly 200 +miles, is well adapted to Winter.</p> + +<p>WHEAT, CORN, COTTON, TOBACCO.</p> + +<p>Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, and every variety of fruit and vegetables is +grown in great abundance, from which Chicago and other Northern markets +are furnished from four to six weeks earlier than their immediate +vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton & St. Louis Railway and the +Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, (a distance of 115 miles on the Branch, +and 136 miles on the Main Trunk,) lies the great Corn and Stock raising +portion of the State.</p> + +<p>THE ORDINARY YIELD</p> + +<p>of Corn is from 60 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep +and Hogs are raised here at a small cost, and yield large profits. It is +believed that no section of country presents greater inducements for +Dairy Farming than the Prairies of Illinois, a branch of farming to +which but little attention has been paid, and which must yield sure +profitable results. Between the Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, and +Chicago and Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147 +miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Spring Wheat, Corn, &c., are +produced in great abundance.</p> + +<p>AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS.</p> + +<p>The Agricultural products of Illinois are greater than those of any +other State. The Wheat crop of 1861 was estimated at 35,000,000 bushels, +while the Corn crop yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the +crop of Oats, Barley, Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, +Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clover, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco, +Sorgheim, Grapes, Peaches, Apples, &c., which go to swell the vast +aggregate of production in this fertile region. Over Four Million tons +of produce were sent out the State of Illinois during the past year.</p> + +<p>STOCK RAISING.</p> + +<p>In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advantages are presented for +the extension of Stock raising. All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules, +Sheep, Hogs, &c., of the best breeds, yield handsome profits; large +fortunes have already been made, and the field is open for others to +enter with the fairest prospects of like results. Dairy Farming also +presents its inducements to many.</p> + +<p>CULTIVATION OF COTTON.</p> + +<p>The experiments in Cotton culture are of very great promise. Commencing +in latitude 39 deg. 30 min. (see Mattoon on the Branch, and Assumption +on the Main Line), the Company owns thousands of acres well adapted to +the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family of young +children, can turn their youthful labor to a most profitable account in +the growth and perfection of this plant.</p> + +<p>THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD</p> + +<p>Traverses the whole length of the State, from the banks of the +Mississippi and Lake Michigan to the Ohio. As its name imports, the +Railroad runs through the centre of the State, and on either side of the +road along its whole length lie the lands offered for sale.</p> + +<p>CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS, DEPOTS.</p> + +<p>There are Ninety-eight Depots on the Company's Railway, giving about one +every seven miles. Cities, Towns and Villages are situated at convenient +distances throughout the whole route, where every desirable commodity +may be found as readily as in the oldest cities of the Union, and where +buyers are to be met for all kinds of farm produce.</p> + +<p>EDUCATION.</p> + +<p>Mechanics and working-men will find the free school system encouraged by +the State, and endowed with a large revenue for the support of the +schools. Children can live in sight of the school, the college, the +church, and grow up with the prosperity of the leading State in the +Great Western Empire.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT—ON LONG CREDIT.</h4> + +<p class='center'> +80 acres at $10 per acre, with interest at 6 per ct. annually +on the following terms:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="65%" cellspacing="0" summary="Cost of Land"> +<tr><td align='left'>Cash payment</td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>$48 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Payment</td><td align='left'>in one year</td><td align='right'>48 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in two years</td><td align='right'>48 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in three years</td><td align='right'>48 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in four years</td><td align='right'>236 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in five years</td><td align='right'>224 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in six years</td><td align='right'>212 00</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class='center'>40 acres, at $10 00 per acre:</p> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="65%" cellspacing="0" summary="Cost of Land"> +<tr><td align='left'>Cash payment</td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>$24 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Payment</td><td align='left'>in one year</td><td align='right'>24 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in two years</td><td align='right'>24 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in three years</td><td align='right'>24 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in four years</td><td align='right'>118 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in five years</td><td align='right'>112 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>in six years</td><td align='right'>106 00</td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<p><span class="left">Number 18.</span><span class="right">25 Cents.</span><br /></p> + + +<h1>THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY.</h1> + +<h3>DEVOTED TO</h3> + +<h2>Literature and National Policy.</h2> + +<h3>JUNE, 1863.</h3> + +<p class='center'>NEW YORK:<br />JOHN F. TROW 50 GREENE STREET<br />(FOR THE PROPRIETORS).<br />HENRY +DEXTER AND SINCLAIR TOUSEY.<br />WASHINGTON, D. C.: FRANCK TAYLOR</p> + +<h3>CONTENTS.—No. XVIII.</h3> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents XVIII"> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The Value of the Union. By William H. Muller,</td><td align='right'>633</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>A Merchant's Story. By Edmund Kirke,</td><td align='right'>642</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>May Morning,</td><td align='right'>657</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The Navy of the United States,</td><td align='right'>659</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Three Modern Romances,</td><td align='right'>667</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Mill on Liberty. By Hon. F. P. Stanton,</td><td align='right'>674</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Cloud and Sunshine,</td><td align='right'>687</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Is there Anything in It?</td><td align='right'>688</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The Confederation and the Nation. By Edward Carey,</td><td align='right'>694</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Reason, Rhyme and Rhythm. By Mrs. Martha Walker Cook,</td><td align='right'>698</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The Buccaneers of America. By William L. Stone,</td><td align='right'>703</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Virginia,</td><td align='right'>714</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Visit to the National Academy,</td><td align='right'>715</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Was He Successful? By Richard B. Kimball,</td><td align='right'>719</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>How Mr. Lincoln became an Abolitionist By S. B. Gookins,</td><td align='right'>727</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Cost of a Trip to Europe, and how to go Cheaply,</td><td align='right'>730</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Touching the Soul. By Egbert Phelps, 1st Lieutenant 19th Infantry, U. S. A.,</td><td align='right'>734</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Literary Notices,</td><td align='right'>744</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Editor's Table,</td><td align='right'>747</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p class='center'>The July No. of the Continental will contain articles by the Hon. +<span class="smcap">Robert J. Walker</span>, written from England.</p> + +<p class='center'>All communications, whether concerning MSS. or on business, should be +addressed to</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 18em;">JOHN F. TROW Publisher,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20em;">50 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK.</span></p> + +<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Entered</span>, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by +JOHN F. TROW, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United +States for the Southern District of New York.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. +V, May, 1863, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 19099-h.htm or 19099-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/9/19099/ + +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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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: The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 21, 2006 [EBook #19099] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +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) + + + + + + + +THE + +CONTINENTAL MONTHLY: + +DEVOTED TO + +LITERATURE AND NATIONAL POLICY. + + * * * * * + +VOL. III.--MAY, 1863.--No. V. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE GREAT PRAIRIE STATE. + + +I should not wonder if some of your readers were less acquainted with +this Western Behemoth of a State than with the republic of San Marino, +which is about as large as a pocket handkerchief. The one has a history, +which the other as yet has not, and of all people in the world, our own +dear countrymen--with all their talk about Niagara, and enormous lakes, +and prodigious rivers--care the least for great natural features of +country, and the most for historical and romantic associations. When an +Englishman, landing at New York, begins at once to inquire for the +prairies, it is only very polite New Yorkers who can refrain from +laughing at him. + +But it is not so much of natural features that I wish to speak at +present. Illinois has been abused lately; brought into discredit by the +misbehavior of some of her sons; but this only makes her loyal friends +love her the more, knowing well how good her heart is, how high-toned +her feeling, how determined her courage. + +Looking at this State from New York, the image is that of a great green +prairie, the monotony of whose surface is scarcely broken by the rivers +which cross it here and there, and the great lines of railroad that +serve as causeways through the desperate mud of spring and winter. A +scattered people, who till the unctuous black soil only too easily, and +leave as much of the crop rotting on the ground through neglect as would +support the entire population; rude though thriving towns, where the +grocery and the tavern, the ball room and the race course are more +lovingly patronized than the church, the Sunday school, and the lyceum; +where party spirit runs high, and elections are attended to, whatever +else may be forgotten; where very unseemly jokes are current, and +language far from choice passes unrebuked in society; in short, where +what are known as 'Western characteristics' bear undisputed sway, making +their natal region anything but a congenial residence for strangers of +an unaccommodating disposition--such is the picture. + +It were useless to deny that most of the points here indicated would be +recognized and placed on his map by a Moral and Social topographer who +should make the tour of the entire State from Cairo to Dunleith, both +inclusive; but it is none the less certain that if he noted only these +he would ill deserve his title. Cicero had a huge, unsightly wart on +his eloquent nose; the fair mother of Queen Elizabeth, a 'supplemental +nail' on one of her beautiful hands; Italy has her Pontine Marshes, New +York city her 'Sixth Ward'; but he must be a green-eyed monster indeed +who would represent these as characteristics. Illinois deserves an +explorer with clear, kind eyes, and a historiographer as genial as +Motley. All in good time. She will 'grow' these, probably. While we are +waiting for them, let us prepare a few jottings for their use. + +A great State is a great thing, certainly, but mere extent or mere +material wealth, without intellectual and social refinement and a high +moral tone, can never excite very deep interest. Not that we can expect +to find every desirable thing actually existent in a country as soon as +it is partially settled and in possession of the first necessities of +human society. But we may expect aspirations after the best things, and +a determination to acquire and uphold them. These United States of +ours--God bless them forever!--have a constitutional provision against +the undue preponderance of physical advantages over those of a higher +kind. Rhode Island (loyal to the core), and Delaware (just loyal enough +to keep her sweet), each sends her two Senators to Congress; and huge +Illinois--whom certain ill-advised Philistines are trying to make a +blind Samson of--can send no more. If we say the State that sends the +best men is the greatest State (for the time, especially the present +time), 'all the people shall answer Amen!' for one loyal heart, just +now, is more precious than millions of fat acres. Whether Illinois could +prudently submit to this appraisal, just at the present moment, remains +to be proved; but that her heart is loyal as well as brave, there can be +no question. + +Without going back, in philosophical style, to the creation of the +world, we may say that the State had a good beginning. Father Marquette +and his pious comrade Allouez, both soldiers of the Cross, explored her +northern wilds for God, and not for greed. They saw her solid and serene +beauty, and presaged her greatness, and they did all that wise and +devoted Catholic missionaries could do toward sanctifying her soil to +good ends forever. They found 'a peaceful and manly tribe' in her +interior, the name Illinois signifying 'men of men,' and the superiority +of the tribe to all the other Indians of the region justifying the +appellation. Allouez said, 'Their country is the best field for the +gospel,' and he planted it as well as he could with what he believed to +be the Tree of Life, long nourished with the prayers and tears of +himself and his successors. The Indians took kindly to the teaching of +the good and wise Frenchman, and it is said that even after troubles had +begun to arise, owing, as usual, to the misconduct of rapacious and +unprincipled white settlers, many of the Indians held fast by their +newly adopted faith, and even showed some good fruits of it in +forbearance and honesty of dealing. All this was not far from +contemporary with the period when Cotton Mather, in New England, while +teaching the principles of civil government, was persecuting Quakers and +burning witches; and in yet another part of the new country, William +Penn, neither Catholic nor Puritan, was making fair and honest treaties +with savages, and winning them, by the negative virtue of truthfulness, +to believe that white men could be friends. + +The Great Colbert, minister to Louis XIV, under whose auspices the +French missionaries had been sent out, very soon came to the conclusion +that it was important to enlarge and strengthen French influence in this +great new country, particularly after he had ascertained the existence +of the 'Great River,' which Father Marquette had undertaken to explore, +and by means of which he expected to open trade with China! But the +minister of finance required rather more worldly agents than the +single-hearted and devoted ministers of religion, and he found a fitting +instrument in the young and ardent Robert de la Salle, a Frenchman of +enterprise and sagacity, worldly enough in his motives, but of +indomitable energy and perseverance. He was very successful in +establishing commerce in furs and other productions of the country, but +lost his life somewhere near the mouth of the Mississippi, which he +first explored, after escaping a thousand dangers. His name is famous in +the land, and a large town was called after it; but what would he say if +he heard his patronymic transformed into 'Lay-sell,' as it is, +universally, among the 'natives'? + +It is in La Salle's first _proces verbal_ for his government that we +find the first mention of the river 'Chekagou,' a lonely stream then, +but which now reflects a number of houses and stores, tall steeples, +colossal grain depots, and--the splendid edifice which fitly enshrines +the northern terminus of the Illinois Central Railroad, the greatest +railway in the world, and certainly one of the wonders which even the +ambitious and sanguine La Salle never dreamed of; a daily messenger of +light and life through seven hundred miles of country, which, without +it, would have remained a wilderness to this day. + +The first settler on the banks of this now so famous river was a black +man from St. Domingo, Jean Baptiste Point-au-Sable by name, who brought +some wealth with him, and built a residence which must have seemed grand +for that time and place. He did not stay long, however, and the Indians, +who had probably suffered some things from the arrogance of their white +neighbors, thought it a good joke to say that 'the first 'white man' +that settled there was a negro.' Like some other jokes, this one seems +to have rankled deep and long, for to this day Illinois tolerates +neither negro nor Indian. The Indian, _as_ an Indian, has no foothold in +the State; and the negro, even in the guise of born and skilled laborer +in the production of the crops which form the wealth of the country, and +of the new ones which are to be transplanted hither in consequence of +the war, is forbidden, under heavy penalties, to set foot within her +boundaries--the threat of slavery, like a flaming sword, guarding the +entrance of this paradise of the laborer. + +Illinois has not suffered as much in tone and character from +unprincipled speculators as some others of the new States. Her early +settlers were generally men of muscle, mental as well as bodily; men who +did not so much expect to live by their wits and other people's folly, +as by their own industry and enterprise. Among the early inhabitants of +Chicago and other important towns, were some whose talents and character +would have been valuable anywhere. Public spirit abounded, and the men +of that day evidently felt as men should feel who are destined to be the +ancestors of great cities. In 1837, when the business affairs of Chicago +were in a distressing state, and private insolvency was rather the rule +than the exception, many debtors and a few demagogues called a public +meeting, the real though not the avowed object of which was to bring +about some form of repudiation. Some inflammatory suggestions, designed +to excite to desperate thoughts those whose affairs were cruelly +embarrassed, having wrought up the assembly to the point of forgetting +all but the distresses of the moment, a call was made for the mayor, who +came forward, and in a few calm and judicious words besought all present +to pause before they ventured on dishonorable expedients. He entreated +them to bear up with the courage of men, remembering that no calamity +was so great as the loss of self-respect; that it were better for them +to conceal their misfortunes than to proclaim them; that many a fortress +had been saved by the courage of its defenders, and their determination +to conceal its weakened condition at all sacrifices. 'Above all things,' +he said, 'do not tarnish the honor of our infant city!' + +These manly words called up manly thoughts, and the hour of danger +passed by. + +At one time the legislature were induced, by means of various tricks, +together with some touches of that high-handed insolence by which such +things are accomplished, to pass a resolution for a convention to alter +the constitution of the State, with a view to the introduction of +SLAVERY. One of the newspapers ventured an article which exposed the +scandalous means by which the resolutions had been carried through the +House. The 'proofs' of this article were stolen from the printing +office, and the parties implicated in this larceny attempted to induce a +mob to demolish the office and the offending editor. But the pluck which +originated the stinging article sufficed for the defence of the office. +The effort to establish slavery in Illinois was kept up for a year or +more, but the bold editor and other friends of freedom labored +incessantly for the honor of the State, and succeeded at length in +procuring an overwhelming vote against the threatened disgrace. + +Laws against duelling are laughed at in other States, but Illinois made +hers in earnest, affixing the penalty of death to the deliberate killing +of a man, even under the so-called code of honor. This severe law did +not suffice to prevent a fatal duel, the actors of which probably +expected to elude the penalty with the usual facility. The State, +however, in all simplicity, hung the survivor, and from that day to this +has had no further occasion for such severity. + +Of late, the same Personage who has in all ages been disposed to buy +men's souls at his own delusive price, and to make his dupes sign the +infernal contract with their blood, has been very busy in certain parts +of the State, trying to get signatures, under the miserable pretence +that party pays better than patriotism, and that times of whirlwind and +disaster are those in which he, the contractor, has most power to +advance the interests of his adherents. But some of those who listened +most greedily to the glozings of the arch deceiver begin already to +repent, and are ready to call upon higher powers to interfere and efface +the record of their momentary weakness. In all _diablerie_ the _fiat_ of +a superior can release a victim, so we may hope that godlike patriotism +may not only forgive the penitent, but absolve him from the consequences +of his own rash folly. To have been instrumental in dimming for one +moment the glorious escutcheon of Illinois, requires pardon. To such +words as have been spoken by some of her sons we may apply the poet's +sentence: + + 'To speak them were a deadly sin! + And for having but thought them thy heart within + A treble penance must be done.' + +The recent Message of Governor Yates is full of spirit, the right +spirit, a warm and generous, a courageous and patriotic one. He glories +in the great things he has to tell, but it is not 'as the fool +boasteth,' but rather as the apostle, who, when he recounts only plain +and manifest truths, says, 'Bear with me.' And truly, what wonders have +been achieved by the 'men of men'! Since the war began, Illinois, though +she has given one hundred and thirty-five thousand of her able-bodied +men to the field, and though the closing of the Mississippi has produced +incalculable loss, has sent away food enough to supply ten millions of +people, and she has now remaining, of last year's produce, as much as +can be shipped in a year. This enormous productiveness has given rise to +the idea that Illinois is principally a grain-growing State, but she +none the less possesses every requisite for commerce and manufactures. +Not content even in war time with keeping up all her old sources of +wealth, she has added to the list the production of sugar, tobacco, and +even cotton, all of which have been found to flourish in nearly every +portion of the State. The seventh State in point of population in 1850, +she was the fourth in 1860, and in the production of coal she has made a +similar advance. In railroads she is in reality the first, though +nominally only the second; possessing three thousand miles, intersecting +the State in all directions. Ten years ago the cost of all the railroad +property within her bounds was about $1,500,000; in 1860 it was +$104,944,561--an instance of progress unparalleled. But these are not +the greatest things. + +Education receives the most enlightened attention, and all that the +ruling powers can accomplish in persuading the people to avail +themselves of the very best opportunities for mental enlargement and +generous cultivation is faithfully done. It is for the people themselves +to decide whether they will be content with the mere rudiments of +education, or accept its highest gifts, gratis, at the hands of the +State. If the pursuit of the material wealth which lies so temptingly +around them should turn aside their thoughts from this far greater boon, +or so pervert their minds as to render them insensible to its value, +they will put that material wealth to shame. It is true that in some +cases the disgust felt by loyal citizens at infamous political +interference may have operated to prevent their sending their children +to school; but these evils are sectional and limited, and the schools +themselves will, before long, so enlighten the dark regions as to render +such stupidity impossible. It is to the infinite credit of the State +that since the war began there has been no diminution, but on the +contrary, an increase in schools, both private and public, in number of +pupils, teachers, school houses, and amount of school funds. Of eight +thousand two hundred and twenty-three male teachers in 1860, _three +thousand_ went to the war, showing that it is among her most intelligent +and instructed classes that we are to look for the patriotism of +Illinois. The deficiency thus created operated legitimately and +advantageously in giving employment to a greatly increased number of +female teachers. + +As to patriotism, let not the few bring disgrace upon the many. It is +true that scarcely a day passes unmarked by the discovery that some +grovelling wretch has been writing to the army to persuade soldiers to +desert on political grounds; yet as these disgraceful letters, as +published in the papers, give conclusive proof of the utter ignorance of +their writers, we must not judge the spirit of the State by them, any +more than by the louder disloyal utterances of men who have not their +excuse. Governor Yates speaks for the PEOPLE when he says: + + 'Our State has stood nobly by the Constitution and the Union. She + has not faltered for a moment in her devotion. She has sent her + sons in thousands to defend the Flag and avenge the insults heaped + upon it by the traitor hordes who have dared to trail it in the + dust. On every battle field she has poured out her blood, a willing + sacrifice, and she still stands ready to do or die. She has sent + out also the Angel of Mercy side by side with him who carries the + flaming sword of War. On the battle field, amid the dying and the + dead; in the hospital among the sick and wounded of our State, may + be seen her sons and daughters, ministering consolation and + shedding the blessings of a divine charity which knows no fear, + which dreadeth not the pestilence that walketh by night or the + bullet of the foe by day.' + +Governor Yates himself, on receiving intelligence of the battle of Fort +Donelson, repaired at once to the scene of suffering, feeling--like the +lamented Governor Harvey of Wisconsin, who lost his life in the same +service--that where public good is to be done, the State should be +worthily and effectively represented by her chief executive officer. +There on the spot, trusting to no hearsay, Mr. Yates, while distributing +the bounteous stores of which he was the bearer, ascertained by actual +observation the condition and wants of the troops, and at once set about +devising measures of relief. After Shiloh, that Golgotha of our brave +boys, the Governor organized a large corps of surgeons and nurses, and +went himself to Pittsburg Landing to find such suffering and such +destitution as ought never to exist on the soil of our bounteous land, +under any possible conjuncture of circumstances, however untoward and +unprecedented. Without surgeons or surgical appliances, without hospital +supplies, and, above all, worse than all, without SYSTEM, there lay the +defenders of our national life, their wounds baking in the hot sun, +worms devouring their substance while yet the breath of life kept their +desolate hearts beating. Doing all that could be done on the spot, and +bringing away all who could be brought, the Governor returned, sending +the adjutant-general back on the same errand, and going himself a second +time as soon as a new supply of surgeons and sanitary stores, +contributed by private kindness, could be got together. And so on, as +long as the necessity existed. The great expenses involved in the relief +and transportation of many thousands of sick and wounded, expenses +unusual and not provided for by law, were gladly borne by the State, and +careful provision was made against the recurrence of the evil. May our +Heavenly Father in His great mercy so order the future as to make these +preparations unnecessary, wise and humane though they be! Says Governor +Yates: + + 'I have hope for my country, because I think the right policy has + been adopted. There remains but one other thing to make my + assurance doubly sure; and that is, I want to see no divisions + among the friends of the Union in the loyal States. Could I know + that the people of the Free States were willing to ignore party, + and resolved to act with one purpose and one will for the vigorous + prosecution of the war and the restoration of the Union, then I + should have no doubt of a happy end to all our difficulties. * * * + + 'If the members of this General Assembly, and the press and people + of Illinois, in the spirit of lofty patriotism, could lay aside + everything of a party character, and evince to the country, to our + army, and, especially to the secession States, that we are one in + heart and sentiment for every measure for the vigorous prosecution + of the war, it would have a more marked effect upon the suppression + of the rebellion than great victories achieved over the enemy upon + the battle field. For, when the North shall present an undivided + front--a stern and unfaltering purpose to exhaust every available + means to suppress the rebellion, then the last prop of the latter + will have fallen from under it, and it will succumb and sue for + peace. Should divisions mark our councils, or any considerable + portion of our people give signs of hesitation, then a shout of + exultation will go up, throughout all the hosts of rebeldom, and + bonfires and illuminations be kindled in every Southern city, + hailing our divisions as the sure harbingers of their success. We + must stand by the President, and send up to him, and to our brave + armies in the field, the support of an undivided sentiment and one + universal cheer from the masses of all the loyal States. The stern + realities of actual war have produced unanimity among our soldiers + in the army. With them the paltry contests of men for political + power dwindle into insignificance before the mightier question of + the preservation of the national life. Coming into closer contact + with Southern men and society, the sentiments of those who looked + favorably upon Southern institutions have shifted round. They have + now formed their own opinions of the proper relations of the + Federal Government to them, which no sophistry of the mere + politician can ever change. Seeing for themselves slavery and its + effects upon both master and slave, they learn to hate it and swear + eternal hostility to it in their hearts. Fighting for their + country, they learn doubly to love it. Fighting for the Union, they + resolve to preserve, at all hazards, the glorious palladium of our + liberties. + + 'I believe this infernal rebellion can be, ought to be, and will be + subdued. The land may be left a howling waste, desolated by the + bloody footsteps of war, from Delaware bay to the gulf, but our + territory shall remain unmutilated--the country shall be one, and + it shall be free in all its broad boundaries, from Maine to the + gulf, and from ocean to ocean. + + 'In any event, may we be able to act a worthy part in the trying + scenes through which we are passing; and should the star of our + destiny sink to rise no more, may we feel for ourselves and may + history preserve our record clear before heaven and earth, and hand + down the testimony to our children, that we have done all, perilled + and endured all, to perpetuate the priceless heritage of Liberty + and Union, unimpaired to our posterity.' + +And in this fervid utterance of our warm-hearted Governor, the free +choice of a free people, let us consider Illinois as expressing her +honest sentiments. + + + + +A WINTER IN CAMP. + + +I was painfully infusing my own 'small Latin and less Greek' into the +young Shakspeares of a Western college, when the appointment of a friend +to the command of the ----th Iowa regiment opened to me a place upon his +staff. Three days afterward, in one of the rough board-shanties of Camp +McClellan, I was making preparations for my first dress parade. The less +said of the _dress_ of that parade, the better. There was no lack of +comfortable clothing, but every man had evidently worn the suit he was +most willing to throw away when his Uncle Samuel presented him with a +new one; and a regiment of such suits drawn up in line, made but a sorry +figure in comparison with the smartly uniformed ----th, which had just +left the ground. Their colonel, in the first glory of his sword and +shoulder straps, was replaced by a very rough-looking individual, with a +shabby slouched hat pushed far back on his head, and a rusty overcoat, +open just far enough to show the place where a cravat might have been. +It was very plain, as he stood there with his arms folded, thin lips +compressed, and gray eyes hardly visible under their shaggy brows, that +whether he _looked_ the colonel or not was the last thought likely to +trouble him. I fancied that he did, in spite of all, and that he saw a +great deal of good stuff in the party-colored rows before him, which he +would know how to use when the right moment came: subsequent events +proved that I was not mistaken. The regiment had no reason to be ashamed +of their rough colonel, even when the two hundred that were left of them +laid down their arms late in the afternoon of that bloody Sabbath at +Shiloh, on the very spot where the swelling tide of rebels had beaten +upon them like a rock all day long. + +But these after achievements are no part of my present story. The more +striking passages of this great war for freedom will be well and fully +told. Victories like Donelson, death-struggles like that on the plains +of Shiloh, will take their place in ample proportions on the page of +history. As years roll on they will stand out in strong relief, and be +the mountain tops which receding posterity will still recognize when all +the rest has sunk beneath the horizon. It were well that some record +should also be made of the long and dull days and weeks and months that +intervened between these stirring incidents: at least that enough should +be told of them to remind our children that they existed, and in this as +in all other wars, made up the great bulk of its toils. This indeed +seems the hardest lesson for every one but soldiers to learn. Few but +those who have had actual experience know how small a part fighting +plays in war; how little of the soldier's hardships and privations, how +little of his dangers even are met upon the battle field. Tame as +stories of barrack life must seem when we are thrilling with the great +events for which that life furnishes the substratum, it is worth our +while, for the sake of this lesson, to give them also their page upon +the record, to spread these neutral tints in due proportion upon the +broad canvas. It is partly for this reason that I turn back to sketch +the trivial and monotonous scenes of a winter in barracks. It is well to +remind you, dear young friends, feminine and otherwise, at home, that a +great many days and nights of patient labor go to one brilliant battle. +When your loudest huzzas and your sweetest smiles are showered on the +lucky ones who have achieved great deeds and walked through the red +baptism of fire, remember also how much true courage and fortitude have +been shown in bearing the daily hardships of the camp, without the +excitement of hand-to-hand conflict. + +The new uniforms came at last, and all the slang epithets with which our +regiment had been received were duly transferred to the newly arrived +squads of the next in order. Then we began to speculate on the time and +mode of our departure. It was remarkable how keenly the most contented +dispositions entered into these questions. There is in military life a +monotony of routine, and at the same time a constant mental excitement, +that make change--change of some sort, even from better to worse--almost +a necessity. I had already stretched myself in my bunk one evening, and +was half asleep, when I heard joyful voices cry out, 'That's good!' and +unerring instinct told me that orders had come for the ----th to move. +On the third day again we stood in our ranks upon the muddy esplanade of +the Benton Barracks, patiently waiting for the A. A. A. G. and the P. Q. +M. to get through the voluminous correspondence which was to result in +quarters and rations. At least twenty thousand men were crowded at that +time into this dismal quadrangle. Perseverance and patience could +overcome the prevalent impression at the commissary that every new +regiment was a set of unlawful intruders, to be starved out if possible, +but could not conquer the difficulty of crowding material bodies into +less space than they had been created to fill. Two companies had to be +packed into each department intended for one. As for 'field and staff,' +they were worse off than the privates, and took their first useful +lesson in the fact that they were by no means such distinguished +individuals in the large army as they had been when showing off their +new uniforms at home. It must have been comforting to over-sensitive +privates to hear how colonels and quartermasters were snubbed in their +turn by the 'general staff.' The regimental headquarters, where these +crest-fallen dignitaries should have laid their weary heads, were +tenanted by Captains A., who had a pretty wife with him, and B., who +gave such nice little suppers, and C., whose mother was first cousin to +the ugly half-breed that blew the general's trumpet from the roof of the +great house in the centre. Wherefore the colonel, the surgeon, the +chaplain, the quartermaster, and the 'subscriber' were content to spread +their blankets for the first night with a brace of captains, on the +particularly dirty floor of Company F., and dream those 'soldier dreams' +in which Mrs. Soldier and two or three little soldiers--assorted +sizes--run down to the garden gate to welcome the hero home again, while +guardian angels clap their wings in delight and take a receipt for him +as 'delivered in good order and well-conditioned' to the deities that +preside over the domestic altar. + +Such dreams as these were easy matters for most of us, who had no +experience. With our regimental colors fresh from the hands of the two +inevitable young ladies in white, who had presented them (with remarks +suitable to the occasion), we saw nothing before us but a march of +double quick to 'glory or the grave.' Luckily we had cooler heads among +us: men who had fought in Mexico, camped in the gulches of California, +drilled hordes of Indians in South America, led men in desperate +starving marches over the plains. These went about making us comfortable +in a very prosaic, practical way. The first call for volunteers from the +ranks was not to defend a breach or lead a forlorn hope, as we had +naturally expected, but--for carpenters. They were set to knocking down +the clumsy bunks in the men's quarters and rebuilding them in more +convenient shape, piercing the roof for ventilators, building shanties +for the dispensary and the quartermaster's stores. Colonel and chaplain +made a daily tour of the cook rooms and commissary, smelt of meat, +tasted hard bread, dived into dinner pots, examined coffee grounds to +see whether any of the genuine article had accidentally got mixed with +the post supply of burnt peas. The surgeon commenced vaccinating the +men, and taking precautions against every possible malady, old age, I +believe, included. Meanwhile the adjutant and the sergeant-major shut +themselves up in a back room like a counting house, and were kept busy +copying muster rolls, posting huge ledger-like books, making out daily +and nightly returns, receiving and answering elaborate letters from the +official personages in the next building. The company officers and men +were assigned their regular hours for drill, as well as for everything +else that men could think of doing in barracks. In short, we found +ourselves all drawn into the operations of a vast, cumbrous, slow-moving +machine, with a great many more cogs than drivers, through which no +regiment or any other body could pass rapidly. The time required in our +case was nearly three months. + +How much of this delay was necessary or beneficial I leave for wiser +military critics than myself to discuss. The complaint it awakened at +the time has almost been forgotten in the glory of the achievements +which followed when the great army actually began to move. Perhaps it is +remembered only by those who mourn the brave young hearts that never +reached the battle field, but perished in the inglorious conflict with +disease and idleness. Few appreciate the fearful loss suffered from +these causes, unless they were present from day to day, watching the +regular morning reports, or meeting the frequent burial squads that +thronged the road to the cemetery. Even in a place like St. Louis, with +amply provided hospitals, and all the appliances of medical skill at +hand, men died at a rate which would have carried off half the army +before its three years' service expired. And of these deaths by far the +greater portion were the direct consequence of idleness and its +consequent evils in camp. The healthiest body of troops I saw in +Missouri were busy night and day with scouting parties, and living in +their tents upon a bleak hilltop, ten miles from the nearest hospital or +surgeon. When their regiment was concentrated after four months' +service, this company alone marched in the hundred and one men it had +brought from home, not a single man missing or on the sick list. +Perhaps another such instance could scarcely be found in the whole army. + +But it was not by death alone that precious material wasted faster than +a whole series of battles could carry it off. Under such circumstances +the living rot as well as the dead. Physically and morally the men +deteriorate for want of occupation that interests them. Most of our +Western volunteers were farmers' boys, fresh from an active, outdoor +life. They were shut up in the barracks, with no exercise but three or +four hours of monotonous drill, no outdoor life but a lounge over the +level parade ground, and no amusements but cards and the sutler's shop. +Their very comforts were noxious. The warm, close barracks in which they +spent perhaps twenty hours out of the twenty-four, would enervate even a +man trained to sedentary habits; and the abundant rations of hot food, +consumed with the morbid appetite of men who had no other amusement, +rendered them heavy and listless. In our regiment, at least, it was +absolutely necessary to cut down the rations of certain articles, as for +instance of coffee, and to prevent their too frequent use. The cooks +told us that it was not an uncommon thing for a man to consume from four +to six quarts of hot coffee at the three meals of a single day. + +Upon their minds the influence was even greater than upon their bodies. +More enthusiastic soldiers never assembled in the world than came up +from all parts of the country to the various rendezvous of our +volunteers. This is not merely the partial judgment of a fellow +countryman. In conversation with old European officers of great +experience, who had spent the autumn in instructing different regiments, +I have heard testimony to this effect more flattering than anything +which I, as an American, should dare to say. Of course a part of this +enthusiasm was founded on an illusion which experience must sooner or +later have dispelled; but wise policy would have husbanded it as long as +possible, by putting them into service which should at the same time +have fed their love of adventure and given them practice in arms. Even +as a matter of drill--which to some of our officers seems to be the +great end, and not merely the means of a soldier's life--this would have +been an advantage. The drill of a camp of instruction is not only +monotonous, but meaningless, because neither officers nor men are yet +alive to its practical application. Had these men been placed at once +where something _seemed_ to depend on their activity, instruction in +tactics would have been eagerly sought after, instead of being looked +upon as an irksome daily task. Nor would it have been necessary for this +purpose to place raw troops in positions of critical importance. The +vast extent of our line of operations, and the wide tracts of +disaffected country which were, or _might easily have been_, left behind +it, offered an ample field for a training as thorough as the most rigid +martinet could desire, at a safe distance from any enemy in force, but +where they would have been kept under the _qui vive_ by the belief that +something was intrusted to them. Drill or no drill, I do not think there +was a colonel in the barracks who did not know that his men would have +been worth more if marched from the place of enlistment directly into +the open field, than they were after months in a place where the whole +tendency was to chill their patriotism by making them feel useless, and +to wear off the fine edge of their patriotism by subjection to the +merest mechanical process of instruction. + +But without dwelling longer on a subject still so delicate as this, let +it be said that the advantages of the camp of instruction were +principally with the officers. These really learned many things they +needed to know, and perhaps unlearned some that they needed as much to +forget. I have hinted already at one of these latter lessons--that of +their own insignificance. Familiarity breeds contempt, even with +shoulder straps. It did the captains and majors and colonels, each of +whom had been for a time the particular hero of his own village or +county, not a little good to find themselves lost in the crowd, and +quite overshadowed by the stars of the brigadiers. Even these latter did +not look quite so portentous and dazzling when we saw them in whole +constellations, paling their ineffectual rays before the luminary of +headquarters. Many an ambitious youth, who had come from home with very +grand though vague ideas of the personal influence he was to have upon +the country's destinies, found it a wholesome exercise to stand in the +mud at the gate all day as officer of the guard, and touch his hat +obsequiously to the general staff. If there was good stuff in him he +soon got over the first disappointment, and learned to put his shoulder +more heartily to that of his men, when he found that his time was by no +means too valuable to be chiefly spent in very insignificant +employments. Some few, it is true, never could have done this, even if +they had been brayed in a mortar. I remember one fussy little cavalry +adjutant, who never allowed a private to pass him without a salute, or +sit down in his presence. I lost sight of the fellow soon afterward, but +it was with great satisfaction that I saw his name gazetted a week or +two since, 'dismissed the service.' + +As for regular instruction in tactics, there was perhaps as much as the +nature of the case admitted, to wit, none at all. Every now and then a +fine system would be organized, and promulgated in general orders. +Sometimes a series of recitations were prescribed that would have +dismayed a teachers' institute. Field officers were to say their lessons +every evening at headquarters, and head classes from their own line in +the forenoon. The company officers in turn were to teach +non-commissioned ideas how to shoot. Playing truant was strictly +forbidden; careless officers who should 'fail to acquire the lesson set +for them' were to be reported, and, I presume, the unlucky man who +missed a question would have seen 'the next' go above him till the +bright boy of each class had worked his way up to the head. These +systems did _not_ prove a failure: they simply never went at all, but +were quietly and unanimously ignored by teacher and teachee. Every man +was left to thumb his Hardee in private, and find out what he lacked by +his daily blunders on drill. These furnished ample subject for private +study, as well as for animated discussion among the other military +topics that occupied our leisure. Emulation and the fear of ridicule +kept even the most indolent at work. + +It was amusing to see how rapidly the _esprit de corps_--their own +favorite word, which they took infinite pleasure in repeating on all +occasions--grew upon our newly made warriors. How learned they were upon +all the details of 'the service,' and how particularly jealous of the +honors and importance of their own particular 'arm!' I used to listen +with infinite relish to the discussion in our colonel's quarters, which +happened to be a favorite rendezvous for the field officers of some half +dozen different regiments, during the idle hours of the long winter +evenings. No matter how the conversation commenced, it was sure to come +down to this at last, and cavalry, infantry, and artillery blazed away +at each other in a voluble discussion that was like Midshipman Easy's +triangular duel multiplied by six. + +'There's no use talking, colonel, you never have done anything against +us in a fair hand-to-hand fight, and you never can.' + +(_You_ on this occasion may be supposed to be cavalry, personified in a +long, lantern-jawed attorney from Iowa, while _us_ stands for infantry, +represented by an ex-drover from Indiana.) + +'Never done anything, eh?' replies the attorney, who, on the strength of +a commission and mustache of at least six months' date, ranks as quite a +veteran in the party; 'what did you do at Borodino? Pretty show you made +there when we came charging down upon you!' + +'Oh, that was all somebody's fault--what's his name's, you know, that +commanded there. Didn't find those charges work so well at Waterloo, did +you?' Thus the ex-drover, fresh from the perusal of Halleck on Military +Science. + +'Ah, but you see they could not stand our grape and canister,' +interposes artillery (Major Phelim O. Malley, now of the 99th Peoria +Battery, till last month real-estate and insurance broker, No.---- +Dearborn street, basement). + +'If we ploy into a hollow square'-- + +'Yes, but you see we come down obliquely and cut off your corners'-- + +'All they want then is a couple of field pieces; zounds, sir!'--(the +major has found this expletive in Lever's novels, and adopted it as +particularly becoming to a military man.) + +'Echelon--charge--right guides--Buny Visty--Austerlitz'-- + +Meanwhile old Brazos and the Swiss major sit grimly silent, one nursing +his lame shin, where the Mexican bullet struck him, the other drawing +hard on his pipe and puffing out wreaths of smoke that hang like +Linden's 'sulphurous canopy' over the combatants. I have no doubt a +great deal of excellent tactics was displayed in these discussions; +still less, if possible, that the zeal of the disputants was all the +more creditable to them for their peaceful antecedents during their +whole lives; but the ludicrous side of the scene was brought out all the +more strongly by the silence of these old soldiers, who alone out of the +whole party had ever seen what men actually could and did do on the +battle field. + +Sometimes these conversations took a high range, and dwelt upon the +causes and the policy of the contest in which we were engaged. I do not +think, however, that these were half so much talked or thought of among +the officers as in the barracks of the men; and it is only justice to +add, that among a large class of the privates I have heard them +discussed with a clearness, a freedom from all prejudices and present +interests, that surpassed the average deliberations of the shoulder +straps. There never probably was so large an army assembled in the world +where so great a proportion of the intelligence could be found in the +ranks. Marked individual instances were constantly met with. There was +at least one corporal in the ----th, who occupied his leisure hours with +the Greek Testament, that the time spent in fighting for his country +might not be all lost to his education for the ministry. I hope the +noble fellow will preach none the less acceptably without the arm that +he left at Donelson. Another of our non-commissioned officers was a +member of the Iowa Legislature. Could there be a happier illustration of +the fine compliment paid by President Lincoln in his message of last +summer to the rank and file of our army? Pity it must be added that no +representations could procure him a furlough to allow him to take his +seat during the session. Had he been a colonel, with $3,000 a year, the +path would have been wide and smooth that led from his duties in the +camp to his seat in Congress, or any other good place he was lucky +enough to fill. + +This, by the way, is only one instance of the greatest defect in our +volunteer system: the broad and almost impassable gulf of demarcation +between commissioned officers and enlisted men. The character of the +army requires that this should be eradicated as soon as possible. +Enthusiastic patriotism might make men willing to bear with it for a +time, or while the war seemed a temporary affair. But since the +conviction has settled down upon the popular mind that we are in for a +long and tedious struggle, and that a great army of American citizens +must be kept on foot during the whole of it, overshadowing all peaceful +pursuits, and remoulding the whole character of our people, there begins +to be felt also the need of organizing that army as far as possible in +conformity with the genius of our people and Government. The greenest +recruit expects to find in the army a sharp distinction of rank, and a +strict obedience to authority, to which he has been a stranger in +peaceful times. But he is disappointed and discouraged when he finds a +needless barrier erected to divide men into two classes, of which the +smallest retains to itself all the profits and privileges of the +service. He comprehends very well that a captain needs higher pay and +more liberty than a private, and a general than a captain; but he fails +to see the reason why a second lieutenant should have four or five times +the pay of an orderly sergeant, and be officially recognized all through +the army regulations as a gentleman, while he who holds the much more +arduous and responsible office is simply an 'enlisted man,' It will be +much easier for him to discover why this is so than to find any good +reason why it should remain so. We are managing an army of half a +million by the routine intended for one of ten thousand, and we are +organizing citizen volunteers under regulations first created for the +most dissimilar army to be found in the civilized world. We adopted our +army system from England, where there are widely and perpetually +distinct classes of society in peace as well as war; the nobility and +gentry furnishing all the officers, while the ranks are filled up with +the vast crowd, poor and ignorant enough to fight for sixpence a day. To +our little standing army of bygone days the system was well enough +adapted, for in that we too had really two distinct classes of men. West +Point furnished even more officers than we needed, with thorough +education, and the refined and expensive habits that education brings +with it. The ranks were filled with foreigners and broken-down men, who +had neither the ambition nor the ability to rise to anything higher. But +we have changed all that. The healthiest and best blood of our country +is flowing in that country's cause. Our army is composed of more than +half a million citizens, young, eager, ambitious, and trained from +infancy each to believe himself the equal of any man on earth. With the +privates under their command the officers have for the most part been +playmates, schoolmates, associates in business, all through life. A +trifle more of experience or of energy, or the merest accident sometimes +has made one captain, while the other has gone into the ranks; but +unless those men were created over again, you could not make between +them the difference that the army regulations contemplate. Once off +duty, there is nothing left to found it on. + +'I say, Jack,' said an officer at Pittsburg Landing to an old crony who +was serving as private in another company, 'where did you get that +turkey?' + +'Well, cap, I want to know first whether you ask that question as an +officer or as a friend.' + +'As a friend, of course, Jack.' + +'Then it's none of your d---- business, Tom!' + +The difference in pay is not only too great, but is made up in a way +that shows its want of reason. Both have lived on the same fare all +their lives, and the captain knows that it is an absurdity for him to be +drawing the price of four rations a day on the supposition that he has +been luxuriously trained, while in reality he satisfies his appetite +with the same plain dishes served out to his brother in the ranks. He +knows that it is an absurdity for him to receive a large pay in order to +support his family according to their supposed rank, while the private's +wife and children are to be made comfortable out of thirteen dollars a +month; the fact being that Mrs. Captain and Mrs. Private probably live +next door to each other at home, and exchange calls and groceries, and +wear dresses from the same piece, and talk scandal about each other, all +in as neighborly a manner as they have been accustomed to do all their +lives. Indeed, whatever aristocracy of wealth and elegance was growing +up among us has been set back at least a generation by this war, which +has brought out into such prominent notice and elevated so high in our +hearts the rougher merits of the strong arm and the dextrous hand. Every +month sees a larger proportion of officers coming from among those whose +habits have been the reverse of luxury. It is hard to say which would be +more mischievous and absurd: for these to spend their extra pay and +rations in an effort to copy the traditional style of an English +Guardsman, or to keep on in their old way of life, and pocket large +savings that are supposed to be thus spent. + +We need therefore to root out entirely this division of the army into +two classes. Let the scale of rank and pay rise by regular steps from +corporal to general, so that the former may be as much or as little a +'commissioned officer' as his superiors. Abolish all invidious +distinctions by a regular system of promotions from the ranks, and only +from the ranks, except so far as West Point and kindred schools furnish +men educated to commence active service at a higher round of the ladder. +Then we shall have an army into which the best class of our youth can go +as privates without feeling that they have more to dread in their own +camps than on the battle field. + +No doubt there would be an outcry against such a change from those who +have been accustomed to the old system and enjoyed its benefits. This of +itself would be no great obstacle, unless supported by a vague +impression among the people at large that there must be some good reason +for the present state of things, and that civilians had better not +meddle with it. I see them sinking down covered with confusion when some +red-faced old 'regular' bursts out upon them with 'Stuff, sir! What do +_you_ know about military matters?' The best answer to this is, that +other nations, like the French, have set us the example, though by no +means so well provided with intelligent material to draw from in the +ranks; and that in fact England and the United States are about the only +countries in which the evil is allowed to exist. In both of these it has +remained from the fact that the body of the citizens have never been +interested in the rank and file of the army. In this country we have now +an entirely new state of things to provide for; and Yankee ingenuity +must hide its head for shame if a very few years do not give us a +republican army better organized and more efficient than any the world +has yet seen. + + + + +TAMMANY. + + + And at their meeting all with one accord + Cried: 'Down with LINCOLN and Fort Lafayette!' + But while jails stand and some men fear the LORD, + How _can_ ye tell what ye may chance to get? + + + + +IN MEMORIAM. + + In the dim and misty shade of the hazel thicket, + Three soldiers, brave Harry, and Tom with the dauntless eyes, + And light-hearted Charlie, are standing together on picket, + Keeping a faithful watch 'neath the starry skies. + + Silent they stand there, while in the moonlight pale + Their rifle barrels and polished bayonets gleam; + Nought is heard but the owl's low, plaintive wail, + And the soft musical voice of the purling stream; + + Save when in whispering tones they speak to each other + Of the dear ones at home in the Northland far away, + Each leaving with each a message for sister and mother, + If he shall fall in the fight that will come with the day. + + Slowly and silently pass the hours of the night, + The east blushes red, and the stars fade one by one; + The sun has risen, and far away on the right + The booming artillery tells that the fight is begun. + + * * * * * + + 'Steady, boys, steady; now, forward! charge bayonet!' + Onward they sweep with a torrent's resistless might; + With the rebels' life-blood their glittering blades are wet, + And many a patriot falls in the desperate fight. + + The battle is ended--the victory won--but where + Are Harry and Charlie, and Tom with the dauntless eyes, + Who went forth in the morn, so eager to do and to dare?-- + Alas! pale and pulseless they lie 'neath the starry skies. + + Together they stood 'mid the storm of leaden rain, + Together advanced and charged on the traitor knaves, + Together they fell on the battle's bloody plain, + To-morrow together they'll sleep in their lowly graves. + + A father's voice fails as he reads the list of the dead, + And a mother's heart is crushed by the terrible blow; + Yet there's something of pride that gleams through the tears they shed, + Pride, e'en in their grief, that their boys fell facing the foe. + + And though the trumpet of fame shall ne'er tell their story, + Nor towering monument mark the spot where they lie, + Yet round their memory lingers an undying glory: + They gave all they could to their country--they only could die. + + + + +A MERCHANT'S STORY. + +'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.' + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +I found Selma plunged in the deepest grief. The telegram which informed +her of Preston's death was dated three days before (it had been sent to +Goldsboro for transmission, the telegraph lines not then running to +Newbern), and she could not possibly reach the plantation until after +her father's burial; but she insisted on going at once. She would have +his body exhumed; she must take a last look at that face which had never +beamed on her but in love! + +Frank proposed to escort her, but she knew he could not well be spared +from business at that season; and, with a bravery and self-reliance not +common to her years and her sex, she determined to go alone. + +Shortly after my arrival at the house, she retired to her room with +Kate, to make the final arrangements for the journey; and I seated +myself with David, Cragin, and Frank, in the little back parlor, which +the gray-haired old Quaker and his son-in-law had converted into a +smoking room. + +As Cragin was lighting his cigar, I said to him: + +'Have you heard the news?' + +'What news?' + +'The dissolution of Russell, Rollins & Co.' + +'No; there's nothing so good stirring. But you'll hear it some two years +hence.' + +'Read that;' and I handed him the paper which Hallet had signed. + +'What is it, father?' asked Frank, his face alive with interest. + +'Cragin will show it to you, if it ever gets through his hair. I reckon +he's learning to read.' + +'Well, I believe I _can't_ read. What the deuce does it mean?' + +'Just what it says--Frank is free.' + +The young man glanced over the paper. His face expressed surprise, but +he said nothing. + +'Then you've heard how things have been going on?' asked Cragin. + +'No, not a word. I've _seen_ that Hallet was abusing the boy shamefully. +I came on, wanting an excuse to break the copartnership.' + +'Do you know you've done me the greatest service in the world? I told +Hallet, the other day, that we couldn't pull together much longer. He +refused to let me off till our term is up; but I've got him now;' and he +laughed in boyish glee. + +'Of course, the paper releases you as well as Frank. It's a general +dissolution.' + +'Of course it is. How did you manage to get it? Hallet must have been +crazy. He wasn't _John Hallet_, that's certain!' + +'The _genuine_ John, but a _little_ excited.' + +'He must have been. But I'm rid of him, thank the Lord! Come, what do +you say to Frank's going in with me? I'll pack him off to Europe at +once--he can secure most of the old business.' + +'_He_ must decide about that. He can come with me, if he likes. He'll +not go a begging, that's certain. He'll have thirty thousand to start +with.' + +'Thirty thousand!' exclaimed Frank. 'No, father, you can't do that; you +need every dollar you've got.' + +'Yes, I do, and more too. But the money is yours, not mine. You shall +have it to-morrow.' + +'Mine! Where did it come from?' + +'From a relative of yours. But he's modest; he don't want to be known.' +'But I _ought_ to know, I thought I had no relatives.' + +'Well, you haven't--only this one, and he's rich as mud. He gave you the +five thousand; but this is a last instalment--you won't get another red +cent.' + +'I don't feel exactly like taking money in that way.' + +'Pshaw, my boy! I tell you it's yours--rightfully and honestly. You +ought to have more; but he's close-fisted, and you must be content with +this.' + +'Well, Frank,' said Cragin, 'what do you say to hitching horses with me? +I'll give you two fifths, and put a hundred against your thirty. + +'What shall I do?' said Frank to me. + +'You'd better accept. It's more than I can allow you.' + +'Then it's a trade?' asked Cragin. + +'Yes,' said Frank. + +'Well, old gentleman, what do _you_ say--will you move the old stool?' +said Cragin, addressing David. + +'Yes; I like Frank too well to stay with even his father.' + +In the gleeful mood which had taken possession of the old man, the words +slipped from his tongue before he was aware of it. He would have +recalled them on the instant, but it was too late. Cragin caught them, +and exclaimed: + +'His father! Well, that explains some riddles. D--d if I won't call the +new firm Hallet, Cragin & Co. I've got him all around--ha! ha!' + +Frank seemed thunderstruck. Soon he plied me with questions. + +'I can say nothing; I gave my word I would not. David has betrayed it; +let him explain, if he pleases.' + +The old bookkeeper then told the young man his history, revealing +everything but the degradation of his poor mother. Frank walked the +room, struggling with contending emotions. When David concluded, he put +his hand in mine, and spoke a few low words. His voice sounded like his +mother's. It was again _her_ blessing that I heard. + + * * * * * + +Two weeks afterward, the old sign came down from the old warehouse--came +down, after hanging there three quarters of a century, and in its place +went up a black board, on which, emblazoned in glaring gilt letters, +were the two words, + + + 'JOHN HALLET.' + +On the same day, the busy crowd passing up old Long Wharf might have +seen, over a doorway not far distant, a plainer sign. It read: + + 'CRAGIN, MANDELL & Co.' + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +Kate heard frequently from Selma within the first two months after her +departure, but then her letters suddenly ceased. Her last one expressed +the intention of returning to the North during the following week. We +looked for her, but she did not come. Week after week went by, and still +she did not come. Kate wrote, inquiring when we might expect her, but +received no reply. She wrote again and again, and still no answer came. +'Something has happened to her. _Do_ write Mrs. Preston,' said Kate. I +wrote her. She either did not deign to reply, or she did not receive the +letter. + +None of Selma's friends had heard from her for more than three months, +and we were in a state of painful anxiety and uncertainty, when, one +morning, among my letters, I found one addressed to my wife, in Selma's +handwriting. Her previous letters had been mailed at Trenton, but this +was post-marked 'Newbern.' I sent it at once to my house. About an hour +afterward I was surprised by Kate's appearance in the office. Her face +was pale, her manner hurried and excited. She held a small carpet bag in +her hand. + +'You must start at once by the first train. You've not a moment to +spare!' + +'Start where?' + +She handed me the letter. 'Read that.' + +It was hurriedly and nervously written. I read: + + 'MY DEAREST FRIEND: I know _you_ have not forsaken me, but + I have written you, oh! so many times. To-day, Ally has told me + that perhaps our letters are intercepted at the Trenton post + office. It must be so. He takes this to Newbern. Is he not kind? He + has been my faithful friend through all. Though ordered away from + the plantation, he refused to go, and stood by me through the + worst. He whom my own sister so cruelly wronged, has done + everything for me! Whatever may become of me, I shall ever bless + him. + + 'I have not heard from or seen any of my friends. Even my brother + has not answered my letters; but he must be here, on the 17th, at + the sale. That is now my only hope. I shall then be freed from this + misery--worse than death. God bless you! + Your wretched SELMA.' + +'I will go,' was all that I said. Kate sat down, and wept 'Oh! some +terrible thing has befallen her! What can it be?' + +I was giving some hurried directions to my partners, when a telegram was +handed in. It was from Boston, and addressed to me personally. I opened +it, and read: + + 'I have just heard that Selma is a slave. To be sold on the + seventeenth. I can't go. You must. Buy her on my account. Pay any + price. I have written Frank. Let nothing prevent your starting at + once. If your partners should be short while you're away, let them + draw on me. + 'AUGUSTUS CRAGIN.' + +It was then the morning of the twelfth. Making all the connections, and +there being no delay of the trains, I should reach the plantation early +on the seventeenth. + +At twelve o'clock I was on the way. Steam was too slow for my +impatience. I would have harnessed the lightning. + +At last--it was sundown of the sixteenth--the stage drove into Newbern. + +With my carpet bag in my hand, I rushed into the hotel. Four or five +loungers were in the office, and the lazy bartender was mixing drinks +behind the counter. + +'Sir, I want a horse, or a horse and buggy, at once.' + +'A horse? Ye're in a hurry, hain't ye?' + +'Yes.' + +'Wall, I reckon ye'll hev ter git over it. Thar hain't a durned critter +in th' whole place.' + +'I'm in no mood for jesting, sir. I want a horse _at once_. I will +deposit twice his value.' + +'Ye couldn't git nary critter, stranger, ef ye wus made uv gold. They're +all off--off ter Squire Preston's sale.' + +'The sale! Has it begun?' + +'I reckon! Ben a gwine fur two days.' + +My heart sank within me. I was too late! + +'Are all the negroes sold?' + +'No; them comes on ter morrer. He's got a likely gang.' + +I breathed more freely. At this moment a well-dressed gentleman, +followed by a good-looking yellow man, entered the room. He wore spurs, +and was covered with dust. Approaching the counter, he said: + +'Here, you lazy devil--a drink for me and my boy. I'm drier than a +parson--Old Bourbon.' + +As the bartender poured out the liquor, the new comer's eye fell upon +me. His face seemed familiar, but I could not recall it. Scanning me for +a moment, he held out his hand in a free, cordial manner, saying: + +'Ah! Mr. Kirke, is this you? You don't remember me? my name is Gaston.' + +'Mr. Gaston, I'm glad to see you,' I replied, returning his salutation. + +'Have a drink, sir?' + +'Thank you.' I emptied the glass. I was jaded, and had eaten nothing +since morning. 'I'm in pursuit of a horse under difficulties, Mr. +Gaston. Perhaps you can tell me where to get one. I must be at Preston's +to-night.' + +'They're scarcer than hen's teeth round here, just now, I reckon. But +hold on; I go there in the morning. I'll borrow a buggy, and you can +ride up with me.' + +'No, I must be there to-night. How far is it?' + +'Twenty miles.' + +'Well, I'll walk. Landlord, give me supper at once.' + +'_Walk_ there! My dear sir, we don't abuse strangers in these diggin's. +The road is sandier than an Arab desert. You'd never get there afoot. +Tom,' he added, calling to his man, 'give Buster some oats; rub him +down, and have him here in half an hour. Travel, now, like greased +lightning.' Then turning to me, he continued: 'You can have _my_ horse. +He's a spirited fellow, and you'll need to keep an eye on him; but he'll +get you there in two hours.' + +'But how will _you_ get on?' + +'I'll take my boy's, and leave the darky here.' + +'Mr. Gaston, I cannot tell you the service you are doing me.' + +'Don't speak of it, my dear sir. A stranger can have anything of mine +but my wife;' and he laughed pleasantly. + +He went with me into the supper room, and there told me that the sale of +Preston's plantation, furniture, live stock, farm tools, &c., had +occupied the two previous days; and that the negroes were to be put on +the block at nine o'clock the next morning. 'I've got my eye on one or +two of them, that I mean to buy. The niggers will sell well, I reckon.' + +After supper, we strolled again into the bar room. Approaching the +counter, my eye fell on the hotel register, which lay open upon it. I +glanced involuntarily over the book. Among the arrivals of the previous +day, I noticed two recorded in a hand that I at once recognized. The +names were, 'JOHN HALLET, _New Orleans_; JACOB LARKIN, _ditto_.' + +'Are these gentlemen here?' I asked the bartender. + +'No; they left same day the' come.' + +'Where did they go?' + +'Doan't know.' + +In five minutes, with my carpet bag strapped to the pommel of the +saddle, I was bounding up the road to Trenton. + +It was nearly ten o'clock when I sprang from the horse and rang the bell +at the mansion. A light was burning in the library, but the rest of the +house was dark. A negro opened the door. + +'Where is master Joe, or Miss Selly?' + +'In de library, massa. I'll tell dem you'm here.' + +'No; I'll go myself. Look after my horse.' + +I strode through the parlors and the passage way to the old room. Selma +was seated on a lounge by the side of Joe, her head on his shoulder. As +I opened the door, I spoke the two words: 'My child!' + +She looked up, sprang to her feet, and rushed into my arms. + +'And you are safe!' I cried, putting back her soft brown hair, and +kissing her pale, beautiful forehead. + +'Yes, I am safe. My brother is here--I am _safe_.' + +'Joe--God bless you!--you're a noble fellow!' + +He was only twenty-three, but his face was already seamed and haggard, +and his hair thickly streaked with white! We sat down, and from Selma's +lips I learned the events of the preceding months. + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +Selma arrived at home about a week after her father's funeral. The +affairs of the plantation were going on much as usual, but Mrs. Preston +was there in apparently the greatest grief. She seemed inconsolable; +talked much of her loss, and expressed great fears for the future. Her +husband had left no will, and nothing would remain for her but the dower +in the real estate, and that would sell for but little. + +The more Preston's affairs were investigated, the worse they appeared. +He was in debt everywhere. An administrator was appointed, and he +decided that a sale of everything--the two plantations and the +negroes--would be necessary. + +Selma felt little interest in the pecuniary result, but sympathy for her +stepmother induced her to remain at home, week after week, when her +presence there was no longer of service. At last she made preparations +to return; but, as she was on the point of departure, Mrs. +Preston--whose face then wore an expression of triumphant malignity +which chilled Selma's very life-blood--told her that she could not go; +that she was a part of her father's estate, and must remain, and be sold +with the other negroes! + +Dawsey, shortly prior to this, had become a frequent visitor at the +plantation; and, the week before, Phylly had been dreadfully whipped +under his supervision. Selma interceded for her, but could not avert the +punishment. She did not at the time know why it was done, but at last +the reason was revealed to her. + +Among the papers of the first Mrs. Preston, the second wife had found a +bill of sale, by which, in consideration of one gold watch, two diamond +rings, an emerald pin, two gold bracelets, some family plate, and other +jewelry, of the total value of five hundred dollars, General ----, of +Newbern, had conveyed a negro girl called 'Lucy', to Mrs. Lucy Preston, +wife of Robert Preston, Esq. Said girl was described as seven years old, +light complexioned, with long, curly hair, of a golden brown; and the +child of Phyllis, otherwise called Phyllis Preston, then the property of +Jacob Larkin. + +Mrs. Preston inquired of Phyllis what had become of the child. The nurse +denied all knowledge of it; but Selma's age, her peculiar hair, and her +strong resemblance to Rosey, excited the Yankee woman's suspicions, and +she questioned the mother more closely. Phyllis still denied all +knowledge of her child, and, for that denial, was whipped--whipped till +her flesh was cut into shreds, and she fainted from loss of blood. After +the whipping, she was left in an old cabin, to live or die--her mistress +did not care which; and there Ally found her at night, on his return +from his work in the swamp. Wrapping her mangled body in an oiled sheet, +he conveyed her to his cabin. Dinah carefully nursed her, and ere long +she was able to sit up. Then Mrs. Preston told her that, as soon as she +was sufficiently recovered to live through it, she would be again and +again beaten, till she disclosed the fate of the child. + +She still denied all knowledge of it; but, fearing the rage of her +mistress, she sent for her husband, then keeping a small groggery at +Trenton, four miles away. He came and had a conference with Ally and +Dinah about the best way of saving his wife from further abuse. Phyllis +was unable to walk or to ride, therefore flight was out of the question. +Ally proposed that Mulock should oversee his gang for a time while he +remained about home and kept watch over her. None of the negroes could +be induced to whip her in his presence; and if Dawsey or any other white +man attempted it, he was free--he would meet them with their own +weapons. Mulock agreed to this, and the next day went to the swamp. + +Learning of his presence on the plantation, the mistress sent for him, +and, by means of a paltry bribe, induced him to reveal all! Selma +thought he loved Phyllis as much as his brutal nature was capable of +loving, and that he betrayed her to save her mother from further ill +usage. + +The next morning, four strong men entered Ally's cabin before he had +left his bed, bound him hand and foot, and dragged Phyllis away, to be +again whipped for having refused to betray Selma. Unable to stand, she +was tied to a stake, and unmercifully beaten. Weak from the effects of +the previous whipping, and crushed in spirit by anxiety for her child, +nature could no longer sustain her. A fever set in, and, at the end of a +week, she died. + +Selma was told of their relation to each other. The nurse, so devotedly +attached to her, and whom she had so long loved, was her own mother! She +learned this only in time to see her die, and to hear her last blessing. + +Then Selma experienced all the bitterness of slavery. She was set at +work in the kitchen with the other slaves. It seemed that Mrs. Preston +took especial delight in assigning to the naturally high-spirited and +sensitive girl the most menial employments. Patiently trusting in God +that He would send deliverance, she endeavored to perform, +uncomplainingly, her allotted tasks. Wholly unaccustomed to such work, +weary in body and sick at heart, she dragged herself about from day to +day, till at last Mrs. Preston, disgusted with her 'laziness,' as she +termed it, directed her to be taken to the quarters and beaten with +fifty lashes! + +Ally had been ordered away by the mistress, and that morning had gone to +Trenton to consult the administrator, and get his permission to stay on +the plantation. That gentleman--a kind-hearted, upright man--not only +told him he could remain, but gave him a written order to take and keep +Selma in his custody. + +He returned at night, to find she had been whipped. His blood boiling +with rage, he entered the mansion, and demanded to see her. Mrs. Preston +declined. He then gave her the order of the administrator. She tore it +into fragments, and bade him leave the house. He refused to go without +Selma, and quietly seated himself on the sofa. Mrs. Preston then called +in ten or twelve of the field hands, and told them to eject him. They +either would not or dared not do it; and, without more delay, he +proceeded to search for Selma. At last he found her apartment. He burst +open the door, and saw her lying on a low, miserable bed, writhing in +agony from her wounds. Throwing a blanket over her, he lifted her in his +arms, and carried her to his cabin. Dinah carefully attended her, and +that night she thanked God, and--slept. + +The next morning, before the sun was fully up, Dawsey and three other +white men, heavily armed, came to the cabin, and demanded admittance. +Ally refused, and barricaded the door. They finally stealthily effected +an entrance through a window in the kitchen, and, breaking down the +communication with the 'living room,' in which apartment the mulatto man +and his mother were, they rushed in upon them. Ally, the previous day, +had procured a couple of revolvers at Trenton, and Dinah and he, +planting themselves before the door of old Deborah's room, in which +Selma was sleeping, pointed the weapons at the intruders. The assailants +paused, when Dawsey shouted out: 'Are you afraid of two d--d +niggers--and one a woman!' Aiming his pistol at Ally, he fired. The ball +struck the negro's left arm. Discharging two or three barrels at them, +the old woman and her son then rushed upon the white men, and they FLED! +all but one--he remained; for Dinah caught him in a loving embrace, and +pummelled him until he might have been mistaken for calves-foot jelly. + +Ally then sent a messenger to the administrator, who rode over in the +afternoon, and took Selma to his own house. There she remained till her +brother reached the plantation--three days before my arrival. + +As soon as she was safely at Trenton, Selma wrote to her friends, +mailing the letters at that post office. She received no answers. Again +and again she wrote; the administrator also wrote, but still no replies +came. At last Ally suggested mailing the letters at Newbern, and rode +down with one to Joe, one to Alice, and one to Kate. + +Her brother came on at once. In the first ebullition of his anger he +ejected his stepmother from the mansion. She went to Dawsey's, and, the +next day, appeared at the sale with that gentleman; and then announced +that for two months she had been the woman-whipper's wife. + +Dawsey had bought the plantation, and most of the furniture, the day +before, and had said he intended to buy all of the 'prime' negroes. + +As Selma concluded, Joe quietly remarked: + +'He'll be disappointed in that. I allowed him the plantation and +furniture, because I've no use for them; but I made him pay more than +they are worth. The avails will help me through with father's debts; but +not a single hand shall go into his clutches, I shall buy them myself.' + +'What will you do with them?' + +'I have bought a plantation near Mobile. I shall put them upon it. Joe +will manage them, and I'll live there with Selly.' + +'You're a splendid fellow, Joe. But it seems a pity that woman should +profane your father's house.' + +'Oh! there's no danger of that. I've engaged 'furnished apartments' for +her elsewhere.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'The sheriff is asleep up stairs. He has a warrant against her for the +murder of Phyllis. When she comes here in the morning, it will be +served!' + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +The next morning I rose early, and strolled out to the negro quarters. +At the distance of about a hundred yards from the mansion, the sun was +touching the tops of about thirty canvas camps, and, near them, large +numbers of horses, 'all saddled and bridled,' were picketed among the +trees. Some dozens of 'natives' were littered around, asleep on the +ground; and here and there a barelegged, barefooted woman was lying +beside a man on a 'spring' mattress, of the kind that is supposed to +have been patented in Paradise. + +It was a beautiful morning in May, and one would have thought, from the +appearance of the motley collection, that the whole people had 'come up +to worship the Lord in their tents,' after the manner of the Israelites. +The rich planter, the small farmer, the 'white trash'--all classes, had +gathered to the negro sale, like crows to a feast of carrion. + +A few half-awake, half-sober, russet-clad, bewhiskered 'gentry' were +lighting fires under huge iron pots; but the larger portion of the +'congregation' was still wrapped in slumber. + +Passing them, I knocked at the door of Ally's cabin. The family was +already astir, and the various members gave me a greeting that cannot be +_bought_ now anywhere with a handful of 'greenbacks.' Boss Joe, Aggy, +and old Deborah had arrived, and were quartered with Ally. + +'An' 'ou wusn't a gwine ter leff massa Preston's own chile be sole +widout bein' yere; wus 'ou, massa Kirke?' cried Dinah, her face beaming +all over with pleasurable emotion. + +'No, Dinah; and I've come here so early to tell you how much I think of +_you_. A woman that can handle four white men as you did is fit to head +an army.' + +'Lor' bress 'ou, massa! dat wusn't nuffin'. I could handle a whole +meetin'-house full ob sech as dem.' + +'Joe, you know your master's plans, I suppose?' + +'Yas, massa Kirke; he mean ter buy all de folks.' + +'But can he raise money enough for the whole?' + +'I reckon so. Massa Joe got a heap.' + +'But don't you want to borrow some to help out your pile?' + +'I'se 'bliged ter you, sar; but I reckon I doan't. I'se got nigh on ter +free thousan', an' nary one'll pay more'n dat fur a ole man an' two ole +wimmin.' + +'I hope not.' + +I remained there for a half hour, and then strolled back to the mansion. +On the lawn, at the side of the house, was the auction block--the +carpenter's bench which had officiated at Ally's wedding. It was +approached by a flight of steps, and at one end was the salesman's +stand--a high stool, in front of which was a small portable desk +supported on stakes driven into the ground. Near the block was a booth +fitted up for the special accommodation of thirsty buyers. The +proprietor was just opening his own and his establishment's windows, and +I looked in upon him. His red, bloated visage seemed familiar to me. +Perceiving me, he said: + +'How is ye, stranger? Hev a eye-opener?' + +'I reckon not, old fellow; but I ought to know you. Your name is Tom.' + +'Thomas, stranger; but Tom, fur short.' + +'Well, Thomas, I thought you had taken your last drink. I saw your store +was closed, as I came along.' + +'Yas; th' durned 'ristocrats driv me out uv thet nigh a yar ago.' + +'And where are you now?' + +'Up ter Trenton. I'm doin' right smart thar. Me an' Mulock--thet used +ter b'long yere--is in partenship. But war moight ye hev seed me, +stranger?' + +'At your store, over ten years since. I bought a woman there. You were +having a turkey match at the time.' + +'Oh, yas! I 'call ye now. An' th' pore gal's dead! Thet d--d Yankee +'ooman shud pull hemp fur thet.' + +'Yes; but the devil seldom gets his due in this world.' + +'Thet ar's a fact, stranger. Come, hev a drink; I woan't ax ye a red.' + +'No, excuse me, Tom; it's before breakfast;' and, walking off, I entered +the mansion. + + * * * * * + +Shortly after breakfast the people from the neighboring plantations +began to gather to the sale, and, by the hour appointed for it to +commence, about five hundred men and women had collected on the ground. +Some were on horseback, some in carriages, but the majority were seated +on the grass, or on benches improvised for the occasion. + +A few minutes before the 'exercises' commenced, the negroes were marched +upon the lawn. No seats had been provided for them, and they huddled +together inside a small area staked off for their reception. They were +of all colors and ages. Husbands and wives, parents and children, +grandparents and grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and cousins, gathered in +little family groups, and breathlessly awaited the stroke of the hammer +which was to decide their destiny. They were all clad in their Sunday +clothes, and looked clean and tidy; but on every face except Joe's was +depicted an ill-defined feeling of dread and consternation. Husbands +held their wives in their arms, and mothers hugged their children to +their bosoms, as if they might soon part forever; but when old Joe +passed among them, saying a low word to this one and the other, their +cloudy visages brightened, and a heavy load seemed to roll off their +hearts. Joe was as radiant as a summer morning, and walked about with a +quiet dignity and unconcern that might have led one to think him the +owner of the entire 'invoice of chattels.' + +As the auctioneer--a spruce importation from Newbern--mounted the bench, +a splendid carriage, drawn by two magnificent grays, and driven by a +darky in livery, made its way through the crowd, and drew up opposite +the stand. In it were Dawsey and his wife! + +The salesman's hammer came down. 'Gentlemen and ladies,' he said, 'the +sale has commenced. I am about to offer you one hundred and sixty-one +likely negro men and women, belonging to the estate of Robert Preston, +Esq., deceased. Each one will be particularly described when put up, and +all will be warranted as represented. They will be sold in families; +that is, husbands and wives, and parents and young children, will not be +separated. The terms are, one quarter cash, the balance in one year, +secured by an approved indorsed note. Persons having claims against the +estate will be allowed to pay by authenticated accounts and duebills. +The first lot I shall offer you will be the mulatto man Joe and his wife +Agnes. Joe is known through all this region as a negro of uncommon worth +and intelligence. He is'-- + +Here he was interrupted by Dawsey, who exclaimed, in a hurried manner: + +'I came here expecting this sale would be conducted according to +custom--that each hand would be put up separately. I protest against +this innovation, Mr. Auctioneer.' + +The auctioneer made no reply; but the administrator, a small, +self-possessed man, mounted the bench, and said: + +'Sir, _I_ regulate this sale. If you are not satisfied with its +conditions, you are not obliged to bid.' + +Dawsey made a passionate reply. In the midst of it, Joe sprang upon the +stand, and, in a clear, determined voice, called out: + +'Mr. Sheriff, do your duty.' + +A large, powerful man, in blue coat and brass buttons, stepped to the +side of the carriage, and coolly opening the door, said: + +'Catharine Dawsey, you are charged with aiding and abetting in the +murder of Phyllis Preston. I arrest you. Please come with me.' + +'By ----, sir!' cried Dawsey; 'this lady is my wife!' + +'It makes no difference whose wife she is, sir. She is my prisoner.' + +'She must not be touched by you, or any other man!' yelled Dawsey, +drawing his pistol. Before he could fire, he rolled on the ground, +insensible. The sheriff had struck him a quick blow on the head with a +heavy cane. + +As her husband fell, Mrs. Dawsey sprang upon the driver's seat, and, +seizing the reins from the astonished negro, applied the lash to the +horses. They reared and started. The panic-stricken crowd parted, like +waves in a storm, and the spirited animals bounded swiftly down the +avenue. They had nearly reached the cluster of liveoaks which borders +the small lake, when a man sprang at their heads. He missed them, fell, +and the carriage passed over him; but the horses shied from the road +into the trees, and in an instant the splendid vehicle was a mass of +fragments, and Mrs. Dawsey and the negro were sprawling on the ground. + +The lady was taken up senseless, and badly hurt, but breathing. The +driver was dead! + +The crowd hurried across the green to the scene of disaster. Joe and I +reached the man in the road at the same instant. It was Ally! We took +him up, bore him to the edge of the pond, and bathed his forehead with +water. In a few minutes he opened his eyes. + +'Are you much hurt, Ally?' asked Joe, with almost breathless eagerness. + +'I reckon not, massa Joe,' said Ally; 'my head, yere, am sore, an' dis +ankle p'raps am broke. Leff me see;' and he rose to his feet, and tried +his leg. 'No, massa Joe; it'm sound's a pine knot. I hain't done fur +_dis_ time.' + +'Thank God!' exclaimed Joe, with an indescribable expression of relief. + +Mrs. Dawsey was borne to the mansion, the negro carried off to the +quarters, and, in a few moments, the crowd once more gathered around the +auctioneer's stand. Dawsey, by this time recovered from the sheriff's +blow, was cursing and swearing terribly over the disaster of his wife +and--his property. + +'Twenty-five hundred dollars gone at a blow! D--n the woman; didn't she +know better than that?' + +As he followed his wife into the house, the sheriff said to the +administrator, who was a justice of the peace: + +'Make me out a warrant for that man--obstructing the execution of the +law.' + +The warrant was soon made out, and in fifteen minutes, Dawsey, raving +like a wild animal, was driven off to jail at Trenton. Mrs. Dawsey, too +much injured to be removed, was left under guard at the mansion, and the +sale proceeded. + +Boss Joe and Aggy ascended the block, and 'Master Joe' took a stand +beside them. + +'How much is said for these prime negroes?' cried the auctioneer. +Everybody knows what they are, and there's no use preaching a sermon +over them. Boss Joe might do that, but _I_ can't. He can preach equal to +any white man you ever hard. Come, gentlemen, start a bid. How much do +you say?' + +'A thousand,' said a voice in the crowd. + +'Eleven hundred,' cried another. + +'It's a d--d shame to bid on them, gentlemen. Boss Joe has been saving +money to buy himself; and I think no white man should bid against him,' +cried a man at my elbow. + +It was Gaston, who had just arrived on the ground. + +'Thet's a fact.' 'Them's my sentiments.' 'D--n th' man thet'll bid agin +a nigger.' 'Thet's so, Gaston,' echoed from all directions. + +'But I yere th' darky's got a pile--some two thousan'; _thet_ gwoes +'long with him, uv course,' yelled one of the crowd. + +'Of course it don't!' said young Joe, from the stand. 'He's saved about +three thousand out of a commission his master allowed him; but he _gave_ +that _to me_, long before my father died. It is _mine_--not _his_. I bid +twelve hundred for him and his wife; and I will say to the audience, +that I shall advance on whatever sum may be offered for them. So fire +away, gentlemen; I ask no favors.' + +'Is there any more bid for this excellent couple?' cried the auctioneer. +'It is my duty to cry them, and to tell you they're worth twice that +money.' + +There was no more bid, and Boss Joe and Aggy were struck down at twelve +hundred dollars--about two thirds their market value. + +'Now, gentlemen, we will offer you the old negress, Deborah, the mother +of Joe. Bring her forward!' cried the man of the hammer. + +Four strong negroes lifted the chair of the aged African, and bore her +to the block. When the strange vehicle reached the steps, young Preston +steadied it into its appropriate position, and then took a stand beside +it. + +'This aged lady, gentlemen, is warranted over eighty; she may be a +hundred. She can't walk, but she can pray and sing to kill. How much is +bid for all this piety done up in black crape?' cried the auctioneer, +smiling complacently, as if conscious of saying a witty thing. + +Joe turned on him quickly. 'Sir, you are employed to _sell_ these +people, not to sport with their feelings. Let me hear no more of this.' + +'No offence, Mr. Preston. Gentlemen, how much is bid for old Deborah?' + +'Five dollars,' said young Preston. + +The old negress, who sat nearly double, straightened up her bent form, +and, looking at Joe with a sad, pleading expression, exclaimed: + +'Oh, massa Joe! ole nussy'm wuth more'n dat. 'Ou woan't leff har be sole +fur no sech money as dat, will 'ou, massa Joe?' + +'No aunty; not if you want to bring more. I'd give your weight in gold +for you;' and, turning to the auctioneer, he said: 'A hundred dollars is +my bid, sir.' + +'Bress 'ou, massa Joe! bress 'ou! 'Ou'm my own dear, bressed chile!' +exclaimed the old negress, clutching at his hand, and, with a sudden +effort, rising to her feet. She stood thus for a moment, then she +staggered back, fell into her chair, uttered a low moan, and--was FREE! + +A wild excitement followed, during which the body was borne off. It was +a full half hour before quiet was restored and the sale resumed. Then +about twenty negroes, of both sexes, were put up singly. All of them +were bought by Joe, except a young woman, whose husband belonged to +Gaston. The bidding on her was spirited, and she was run up to ten +hundred and fifty dollars. As Gaston bid that sum, he jumped upon a +bench, and called out: + +'Gentlemen, I can stand this as long as you can. I mean to have this +woman, anyhow.' + +No one offered more, and 'the lot' was struck off to Gaston. Joe did not +bid on her at all. + +When the next negro ascended the stand, Joe beckoned to me, and said: + +'Selly is next on the catalogue. Will you bring her here?' + +As I entered the mansion, she met me. Her face was pale, and there was a +nervous twitching about her mouth, but she quietly said: + +'You have come for me?' + +'Yes, my child. Have courage; it will soon be over.' + +She laid her head upon my shoulder for a moment; then, turning her +large, clear, but tearless eyes up to mine, she said: + +'I trust in GOD!' + +I took her arm in mine, and walked out to the stand. The auctioneer was +waiting for her, and we ascended the block together. A slight tremor +passed over her frame as she met the sea of upturned faces, all eagerly +gazing at her; and, putting my arm about her, I whispered: + +'Do not fear. Lean on me.' + +'I do not fear,' was the low reply. + +'Now, gentlemen,' cried the auctioneer, in an unfeeling, business-like +way, 'I offer you the girl, Lucy Selma. She is seventeen years old; in +good health; well brought up--a superior lot every way. She has recently +been employed at cooking, but, as you see, is better adapted to lighter +work. How much shall I have for her? Come, bid fast gentlemen; we are +taking up too much time.' + +Before any response could be made to this appeal, Joe stepped to the +side of Selma, and, in a slow, deliberate voice, said: + +'Gentlemen, allow me a few words. This young lady is my sister. I have +always supposed--she has always supposed that she was the legitimate +child of my father. She was not. My mother bought her when she was very +young; gave her jewels--all she had--for her, and adopted her as her own +child. The law does not allow a married woman to hold separate property, +and Selma is therefore inventoried in my father's estate, and must be +sold. Rightfully she belongs to me! She has been delicately and tenderly +reared, and is totally unfitted for any of the usual work of slave +women. Her value for such purposes is very little. I shall bid a +thousand dollars for her, which is more than she is worth for any honest +use. If any man bids more, it is HIS LIFE OR MINE _before he leaves the +ground!_' + +A breathless silence fell on the assemblage. It lasted for a few +moments, when Gaston called out: + +'Come, Joe, this isn't fair. You've no right to interfere with the sale. +I came here prepared to go twenty-five hundred for her myself.' + +In a firm but moderate tone, the young man replied: + +'I intend no disrespect to you, Mr. Gaston, or to any gentleman +present; but I mean what I say. I shall stand by my words!' + +'Come, youngster, none uv yer brow-beatin' yere. It woan't gwo down,' +cried a rough voice from among the audience. 'I've come all th' way from +Orleans ter buy thet gal; an' buy har I shill!' + +Quite a commotion followed this speech. It lasted some minutes, and the +speaker was the object of considerable attention. + +'He's some on th' trigger, ole feller,' cried one. 'He kin hit a +turkey's eye at two hundred paces, he kin,' said another. 'He'll burn +yer in'ards, shore,' shouted a third. 'Ye'll speak fur warm lodgin's, ef +ye bid on thet gal, ye wull,' cried a fourth. + +'Come, my friends, ye karn't skeer me,' coolly said the first speaker, +mounting one of the rough benches. 'I've h'ard sech talk afore. It +doan't turn _me_ a hair. I come yere ter buy thet gal, an' buy har I +shill, 'cept some on ye kin gwo higher'n my pile; an' my pile ar +_eighty-two hundred dollars_!' + +He was a tall, stoutly-built man, with bushy gray whiskers and a clear, +resolute eye. It was Larkin! + +Turning to Joe, I exclaimed: + +'I understand this. Get the auctioneer to postpone the sale for half an +hour for dinner. Take Selly into the house.' + +'No. It might as well be over first as last. Let him bid--he's a dead +man!' replied Joe coolly, but firmly. + +'You're mad, boy. Would you take his life needlessly?' + +The auctioneer, who overheard these remarks, then said to me: + +'I will adjourn the sale, sir;' and, turning to the audience, he cried, +drawing out his watch: 'Gentlemen, it is twelve o'clock. The sale is +adjourned for an hour, to give you a chance for dinner.' + + + + +SHYLOCK vs. ANTONIO. + +OPINION OF THE VICAR. + + +The Vicar desires briefly, modestly, and by way of suggestion, rather as +Amicus Curiae than as an advocate, to lay before his learned brethren of +the law a legal point or two, for their consideration. + +The case to which I refer is well known to all the members of the bar as +that of Shylock--_versus_ Antonio, reported, in full, in 2 Shakspeare +299. The decision which I am desirous of having reviewed, is that of the +Chief Justice, or Ducal Magistrate, who heard that curious case, and who +yielded to the extraordinary arguments of the young woman, Portia. The +judgment rendered, and the argument or decision of the Lady Advocate, on +that occasion, have been regarded as models of judicial acumen, have +received the approbation of many worthy and enlightened students, and, +when theatrically represented, have been greeted with the plaudits of +nearly every theatre. It may be arrogant to impugn a judicial decision +of such antiquity and acknowledged authority; but, as a member in full +standing of the worshipful P. B., I have the right to be slightly +arrogant; for I am well aware that this is a tribunal the circumference +of whose jurisdiction is infinite, or rather is a circle whose centre is +a little village on the Hudson river, where I reside. + +No false modesty shall restrain me, therefore, from discussing this case +upon its merits. Before entering upon it, however, I desire to call your +attention to a few preliminary points. + +In the first place, I ask you--who are all familiar with the record--if +an undue sympathy for the defendant, Antonio, was not felt on the trial? +The favor and good wishes of the court, the spectators, and of the +reporter, were evidently enlisted for him as against his opponent. This +Antonio, perhaps, was a very worthy fellow in his way; and in a criminal +action--as on an indictment for murdering a family or two, or +slaughtering a policeman--might have been, able to prove previous good +character. But such a plea, in a civil action for _debt_, is entitled to +no weight, while the fact that he was a good fellow in a series of +scrapes, not the least of which was matrimony, does not entitle him to +our sympathy. The prejudices of the court ought to have been against +instead of for him. He had failed in business, could not pay his +outstanding liabilities, and thus stood before the commercial world in +the position of bankruptcy. The fact that he had made a foolish +contract, which imperilled his life, does not improve his moral +condition, or entitle him to any just sympathy, unless it could be shown +that there was insanity in his family. No such plea was entered. His +counsel did not attempt to prove that his great-grandfather owned a mad +dog; a plea from which the court, fortified by many modern criminal +decisions, might have inferred his moral insanity. No such attempt to +relieve Antonio from the consequences of his criminal folly was made, +and I can see nothing in the case to entitle him to the sympathy which +was and had been always entertained for him. + +Again: The lengthy and much-admired plea of the defendant's counsel on +the subject of mercy was clearly out of place, especially if, as I have +endeavored to show, the defendant was not entitled to any particular +clemency or sympathy. The remarks of Portia, commencing, + + 'The quality of Mercy is not strained,' + +(and, by the way, who but a woman would talk of straining an emotion as +one strains milk?) are wholly irrelevant to the issue, and ought not to +have been allowed. They were eloquent, indeed, but had nothing whatever +to do with _the trial_, which arose on a very plain case at law: A owed +B three thousand ducats, due and not paid on an ascertained day. +Whereupon B moves the court for the penalty, and demands judgment. If +the defendant had no answer at law, there is an end to the case; and it +was very irregular, impertinent, and contrary to well-settled practice +for the defendant's counsel to endeavor to lead off the mind of the +court from the true issue of the case. Portia, in what she says of mercy +being 'twice blessed' and 'dropping like the gentle rain from heaven,' +&c., &c., was, I fear, 'talking buncombe,' and all that part of her +speech should be stricken from the record, especially as it was +addressed to the plaintiff instead of the court, a highly indecorous +proceeding. Instead of indulging in all this sentimentality, her true +course would have been to have filed a bill in equity against Shylock, +and have obtained an injunction on an _ex parte_ affidavit, which only +requires a little strong swearing; or to have patched up a suit against +him for obtaining his knife under false pretences; than which (under the +New York code of procedure) nothing can be easier. But what better +conduct of a suit can you expect from a she-advocate--an +attorney-in-petticoats? + +And this brings me to another point of some delicacy, and which nothing +but a conscientious devotion to abstract justice would induce me to +touch upon. What law, or what precedent, can be cited to authorize a +woman to appear as an advocate in a court of justice and usurp the +offices and prerogatives of a man? I will not dwell upon the impropriety +of such conduct; but on my honor, as a member of the bar, the behavior +of Portia was outrageous. This young female, not content with +'cavorting' around the country in a loose and perspicuous style, +actually practises a gross swindle on the court. She assumes to be a man +when she is only a woman, dons the breeches when she is only entitled to +the skirts, and imposes herself upon the Duke of Venice as a learned +young advocate from Rome, when in fact she is only a young damsel of +Belmont, with half a dozen lovers on hand, on her own showing. And yet +this young baggage, whose own father would not trust her to choose a +husband, whose brains are addled by her own love affairs, and who had no +more business in court than the deacon would have in Chancellor +Whiting's suit in the Lowber claim, not only came into court under a +fraudulent disguise, argued the case under false pretences, but actually +took the words from the judge's own mouth, and decided her case on her +own responsibility. I venture to say that such unparalleled impudence +was never witnessed out of the court of a justice of the peace, and that +even Judge ---- (unless the editor of the ---- had interfered) would have +marched this false pretender out of court, or have deposited her in the +Tombs on an attachment of contempt. + +But these preliminary points appear of small moment when we come to +consider the plea, if it be worthy of that name, which the counsel for +the defendant opposed to the suit of the plaintiff. The bond is +admitted, the penalty is confessed, the pound of flesh is forfeited, the +bosom of Antonio is bared to the knife--when this brief but brief-less +barrister, this skylarking young judge of Belmont steps jauntily +forward, with a most preposterous quibble on her lips, and manages by an +adroit subtlety to defeat the judgment to which the plaintiff is legally +entitled. She awards the flesh, fibres, nerves, adipose matter, in +controversy, to Shylock; but declares his life and fortune confiscate if +he sheds a drop of blood, or takes more or less than the exact pound. + +Now if there be one principle of law better settled than another (and +probably it was as clearly set forth in the Revised Statutes of Venice +as is set forth in our own common law), it is that a party entitled to +the possession of a commodity, whether grain, guano, dead or live men's +flesh, bones and sinews, is entitled, also, to pursue the usual +necessary and appropriate means of obtaining the possession of the same. +I appeal to Colonel W---- if this be not good law, and asking whether, +if he be entitled to a dinner, he has not a right to seize upon it, +whenever or however he can find it; whether, if a man owes him a bottle +of champagne, he has not the right to break the neck of the bottle if a +corkscrew is not convenient? So, to use a drier example, the sale of +standing timber entitles the purchaser to enter the land upon which it +is situated, and to cut down and carry off his own property. On the same +principle, if A sells B a house and lot, entirely surrounded by other +land owned by A, B has clearly a right of way to his own wife and +fireside over A's land. (2 Blackstone 1149.) A hundred examples might be +given in point, but it would be insulting the dignity of this court to +argue at length a theory so transparently clear. If the shedding of a +few drops of blood, more or less, was incidental and necessary to the +rights of the plaintiff, if the article of personal property, forfeited +to him on the bond, could be obtained in no other way, then, according +to all the principles of law and common sense, he _had_ a right to spill +those drops, more or less; and that, too, without legal risk. + +If the penalty was legal, and that were admitted, the method of exacting +it was legal also. Portia's quibble was so transparent and barefaced +that the decision of the court can only be explained on the theory that +the court was drunk, or in love, which seems to have been the condition +of several of the prominent parties in this proceeding, excepting always +the plaintiff. As to the other part of Portia's plea, it is doubtless +true that the plaintiff would take more of the commodity involved in the +suit than the court awarded him at his peril; but as half a pound, or a +quarter of a pound, cut off from the right spot would have answered his +purpose, I do not see under what principle of law he was defrauded of +that satisfaction. There was nothing to have prevented him from cutting +less than a pound from Antonio's body, and of so releasing him, the +defendant, from a portion of the penalty; and the court should have +instructed the plaintiff as to his rights in this particular, instead of +adopting a quibble worthy of only a Tombs lawyer or a third-rate +pettifogger. + +I cannot then believe that Mr. Reporter Shakspeare, in handing down to +posterity the record of this remarkable case, meant to express an +approval of Portia's subterfuge. My inference rather is that he was +aiming a covert sarcasm at those women who thrust themselves +conspicuously upon the notice of the public, and that he meant to hint +that those who thus unsex themselves often make a showy appearance +without displaying much solid merit. If this subtle, sharp, and +strong-minded female did not turn out to be something of a shrew, before +her husband was done with her, I am much mistaken. Possibly, however, +Shakspeare's sarcasm might bear a more general interpretation, and +implies that women in an argument seldom meet the true issue presented +to them, but are prone to go off at a tangent on some side quibble, and +to repel the arguments of their antagonists by the subtlety of their +inventions rather than by the cogency of their logic. I appeal to my +friend, the sage of Cattaraugus, who has a large knowledge of the +customs of the sex, if this be not the usual result. + +Not to cut the reply of the deacon too short, I go on to remark that +whether he agrees with me or not, neither he nor any other well-balanced +man would have descended, on the trial of so important a case as the one +we are discussing, to a trivial playing upon words. Even my friend, the +district attorney, than whom no man is more remorselessly given--in +private life--to the depraved habit of quibbling, and who never +hesitates to impale truth upon the point of a verbal criticism, would by +the temptation of a fee commensurate with the vigor of the moral effort +required, have discussed the question on broader and truer principles. +Had he been retained on the part of Antonio, he would have proved +himself equal to the occasion, and have unfolded a logical and +consistent answer to the claim of the plaintiff. + +He would have boldly attacked the bond itself, as absolutely void in its +inception, because it was aimed at the life of a citizen of Venice, and +would have called upon the court to abrogate a contract which violated +the very laws that the court was bound to administer. With his usual +eloquence, he would have urged that a penalty so illegal, immoral, and +monstrous, and which involved the commission of the highest crime, +except treason, known to the laws of the state, could never be enforced +in a civilized country. He would have offered to the court no woman's +quibble like that of Portia, based upon the assumption that the penalty +of a bond which sanctioned a high and capital crime could be enforced in +a court of law; and in fine, would have addressed an argument to the +reason and understanding of the court which might render a consideration +of this case by the tribunal unnecessary. + +But no good plea to the plaintiff's cause of action was made on the +trial, and the court was, and I fear that the whole world has been +deceived by Portia's subterfuge. We must, therefore, regard Shylock as a +badly used man. After all, he was no worse than many creditors and note +shavers of this day, who _only_ demand the life blood of their victims, +and if on the pleas before the court he was entitled to judgment, like +them he should have had it. Doubtless in private life Shylock was a very +honest and well-behaved gentleman, not a mere mountebank as he is +sometimes represented on the stage, but a vigorous and energetic man of +the world, shrewd, sagacious, and long sighted in business, honored on +change, respected by his friends, and a pattern of prudence and +morality. And then, perhaps, he was only carrying on a joke, a kind of +_Jew d'esprit_, conceived in a moment of amiable eccentricity, and never +to be executed. If not a joke, however, the judgment of Judge Portia +should be set aside, and a new trial, with costs, should, in my opinion, +have been ordered. + + + + +A HEROINE OF TO-DAY. + + +We had watched with her alternate nights throughout all her illness, but +this night we thought would be her last, and neither of us was willing +to leave her. The surgeons and nurses had gone, and we were at last +alone. We sat through the remaining hours in deathly stillness, +occasionally moistening the lips and tongue of the sufferer. It was the +last office of friendship, and I yielded it, though reluctantly, to her +earliest and dearest friend. Monotonous the hours were, but not long. We +would have made them longer if we could, for though the waning life +before us was but the faintest shadow of the life we had companioned +with, we were loath to lose it--to face the blank that would be left +when it was gone. + +One, two, three o'clock sounded, and still no perceptible change; but +soon after the breathing became shorter, a slight film gathered on her +eyes, and we stood in the presence of the last great mystery. Shorter +and shorter grew the breath, deeper and deeper the film, till, just as +the first gray light showed itself in the eastern horizon, came the last +sigh, and Mrs. Simmons, leaning forward, exclaimed in a low voice, 'It +is over.' As for me, I buried my face in the pillow and wept +unrestrainedly. + +In a hospital the day treads closely on the night, and soon the morning +came. We retired to our apartment for rest, but we could not sleep. We +could only think of our loss, and after an hour or two we rose, somewhat +rested, but not refreshed. Ever since my first acquaintance with +Laetitia Sunderland, I had eagerly desired to learn her previous life. +Glimpses of it I had obtained, but I wanted it as a whole, and now I was +with one, perhaps for the last time, who could give me a full account of +it. It was an opportunity not to be lost, and while partaking of our +morning coffee, I asked Mrs. Simmons if she would tell me what I so +longed to know. She willingly assented, and as I was relieved from duty +for the day, and the morning was mild and beautiful, we sought a rustic +seat in the garden, and there in a little nook retired from view, I +heard the story of that life to which my own during the past year had +been so closely knit. + +'There is one thing,' said Mrs. Simmons, 'in regard to our friend, to +which we have never alluded, and which, perhaps, you would rather have +me now pass over; but on that very thing her whole character and history +turn, and to omit it would leave nothing worth the telling--I mean her +personal appearance. + +'When I was a child, my parents moved into the suburbs of Condar, and as +there were no houses between ours and Mr. Sunderland's, the two families +soon became well acquainted. On the day that I was ten years old, my +mother told me there was a baby girl at Mrs. Sunderland's, and said she +would take me to see it. I was delighted, and wanted to go immediately, +but mother said I must wait till to-morrow. To-morrow came, and I was +sick; and at last the baby was a week old when I was taken, the happiest +little mortal in existence, into that upper room where the little one +lay in its nurse's arms. I looked at it, and then at my mother.' + +"What is the matter, Mary?' said she. + +"It isn't a very pretty baby, is it, mother?' + +"Oh it will grow prettier," said my mother, and with that I was +satisfied. I was extravagantly fond of babies, and this one I adopted as +my especial care, for there was no other in the neighborhood; and +besides, in my childish confusion of ideas, I supposed we were twins, +our birthdays being the same. + +'From the time Laetitia first learned to speak, she came to me with all +her troubles and her interests, and I was always glad to be her +sympathizer, her counsellor, and her playmate. When she was five or six +years old she went to the nearest district school. She was always a +marked girl, from her extreme homeliness, her excellent scholarship, her +boldness in all active sports, and an odd humor which never failed to +interest and amuse. My mother's prophecy, alas! was not fulfilled. She +grew no prettier, but rather the reverse. She was the same in childhood +as when you knew her, with the high, bold forehead, crowned with white, +towy hair, small greenish-gray eyes, shaded and yet not shaded with +light yellowish eyelashes, short and thin; scanty eyebrows of the same +color; a nose so small and flat it seemed scarcely a projection from her +face; teeth tolerably good, but chin and mouth receding in a peculiar +manner, and very disagreeably; and a thick, waxy complexion, worse in +childhood than of late years, for the spirit had not then found its way +through it, as it did afterward. Moreover, by a singular malignancy of +fortune, when she was twelve years old, she was attacked with varioloid, +and taking a severe cold as she was getting well, had a relapse, and was +left as you see her, not closely marked, but sufficiently pitted to +attract attention. + +'My parents thought more of education than the Sunderlands, and my +advantages were much better than Laetitia's. I went for some time to a +good select school in the town, and afterward two years to an excellent +boarding school. When Laetitia had learned all that her instructors in +the little district school could teach her, she came to me and begged +that I would let her read with me. I was very glad to do so, and soon +after my cousin and niece joined us. To those readings I am indebted for +some of the most delightful hours of my life. My pupils, as I used to +call them, were at that age when childhood is verging into womanhood, +and it was my delight to watch the first dawnings of consciousness in +their minds, the first awakening to the realities of life. Laetitia was +the youngest of the three, but she was as intelligent and mature as the +others. How well I remember the glow of enthusiasm with which she read +of the heroes and martyrs of old, the intense sympathy with which she +entered into the _amor patriae_ of the Greek and Roman, and her fervent +admiration for the nobleness of action which this feeling called forth +in them! + +'The second year I began to see the development of new sentiments. The +romance of life, as well as its heroism and duties, was revealed to +them. Pieces of poetry which before had been read listlessly, or with +only a distant apprehension of their meaning, were now full of interest. +The sentiment which had passed unnoticed, now kindled their imaginations +with delight; and there came, too, all the new attentions to dress and +looks which first show themselves at this time. Life lay before them, +golden and beautiful, and they saw all its shining angels coming to meet +them--love, friendship, duty, praise, self-sacrifice, each with a joy in +her hand, but the sorrow was concealed from their eyes, or, rather, was +but another form of joy. They admitted its probability, but it was with +the disguised pleasure which we feel in the troubles of the heroines of +romance. + +'Laetitia shared these feelings with the others, though with less +reason; but her thought and imagination were so vivid, and gave color so +completely to her life, that it would have been as absurd for her as for +them to have looked at the probabilities of the case. Never once did she +say to herself, that to one in her circumstances, life would most likely +be full of disappointments and commonplace incidents. But time, the +great revealer, soon opened to her those pages which her wisest friend +would not have dared to show her so early. + +'One evening I went to Mrs. Sunderland's on some trivial errand. The +family were all out excepting Laetitia, whom I found sitting by the +window, in the dark, with her head resting on her hand. Her manner +indicated great depression; and I looked at her a moment and said, 'My +dear child, what is the matter with you this evening?' + +'Her head dropped upon the table, and she burst into tears. She +continued to weep and sob, till, seeing she was not relieved, I put my +hand upon her shoulder and said, 'Laetitia, Laetitia, don't cry so.' + +'Don't call me Laetitia,' she replied. 'I shall never be Laetitia +again.' + +'The answer seemed melodramatic, but I knew she was suffering. Still I +responded lightly: 'Oh yes, you will be Laetitia many, many times yet. +'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,' you +know.' + +'She did not reply, and we sat a while in silence, till at length I +begged of her to tell me the cause of her grief, just to see if I could +not help her. I think she wanted to tell it, for she tried two or three +times, but could not get any further than 'Yesterday afternoon'--At last +she said, 'I have a very great trouble; it will never be any less as +long as I live, and it will forever keep me from being happy. I _cannot_ +tell it to you: can you help me without knowing it?' + +'This was a new appeal, and I did not know how to answer it, but a +thought came to me, and I replied: 'Go and tell God about it.' + +'This I said at a venture, for, old as I was, I had never called upon +Him in deep distress, and I did not know what the effect would be; but I +saw immediately that the advice was unexpected, and seemed to meet the +exigency. + +'Her mother's voice was at that moment heard at the door, and I went out +to give Laetitia an opportunity of slipping off to her room without +meeting the family. + +''Have you seen 'Titia?' said Mrs. Sunderland to me. + +''Yes, she has just gone to her room.' + +''Well, I don't know what's the matter with the child since last night, +she's acted so queer. I 'spect she'll get over it, though; she always +did have tantrums.' + +'In one sense, however, she never did get over it, and it was many years +before she really recovered much of her old light-heartedness, although +she had an appearance of it to superficial companions. For a long time +her inner life was shut from the view of her friends; but I am at +present able to read it for you, partly from what she herself told me +afterward, and partly from that insight which we all have into those +lives and experiences with which we are in sympathy. + +'One afternoon she left me very happy and gay, and went to see a friend +near the town. She was returning slowly toward home, satisfied with +herself, and enjoying intensely the beauty of the season, when she saw +two ladies approaching her. They were strangers, and she looked at them +with interest, attracted by their pleasing faces and graceful bearing. +As they passed her, she overheard one of them say in an undertone, 'What +a frightfully homely girl!' + +'There could be no mistake. She only was meant, and the words went like +a sharp dagger to her heart. + +'While she was thinking how charming they were, she to them appeared +only frightful. The whole future in an instant opened before her, and +she saw herself, as she moved through it, constantly exciting, wherever +she went, only repulsion in the minds of strangers and friends. + +'All the charm and interest of life fled at the moment. That day and the +next she was in a stupor of grief, from which she was first awakened by +my tones of sympathy. My advice, too, opened a door of relief by giving +her something to _do_. For the first time she remembered there was a +Being who knew all about her sorrow, knew it was coming, understood its +cause, and its effects. This Being she could open her mind to, and only +to Him. He would not be surprised, and He would not annoy her with +sympathy which could not cure and would only irritate. She knelt down, +and with minute fidelity told Him every thought of her heart. The next +day she felt cheerful--she thought she was resigned; but it was only the +reaction caused by the tears and confession of the previous night, and +it soon passed away. The words 'frightfully homely' echoed and re-echoed +through her heart. All that was dreary, hopeless, and miserable +clustered around them, and shut out from her the bright, happy life of +the past. Her duties were performed as before. With others she was +sufficiently animated; but when alone, she was wretched. Thus the months +rolled on, till they became a year; and I, who had never been deceived +by her occasional liveliness, began to think what I could do to change +the current of her thoughts, which seemed to have no tendency to change +of themselves. + +'But Laetitia's life was not all feeling. Feeling suffers passively, +with greater or less endurance, according to the strength of the +physical frame, but the intellect always seeks a remedy for sorrow. It +seemed horrible to her that she of all the world--of all her world, at +least--should be so homely that no one could look on her without pain. +It was intolerable, it ought not to have been, but it _was_ permitted, +it must be. Rebellion came of course, bitter rebellion, but it could do +no good. There was the fate, it was impossible to escape it. What then? +Drag through a miserable life till death came happily to relieve it? She +was too young. Fifty, sixty years of travel over a dreary, barren waste, +with no joy upon it? No, no, she could not do it--suicide first. But +suicide was wrong, and could never be resorted to. There _must_ be some +relief elsewhere. Where was it? what was it? + +'Continual dropping will wear away a stone, and continual thinking will +wear a hollow into the stoniest of mysteries. At length, through all the +mists of proximate causes and natural laws, some glorious truths became +clear to her. The near and the visible receded to their proper +importance, and she learned to hold principles and ideas more dear than +the externals which embody them. She saw that God loves His children +equally, and though the laws of nature must take their course, there is +room for each result in His design; and in the infinite of His heart and +His work each individual has place and purpose. She found, too, that +angels laden with joy might descend and ascend between His soul and hers +without a ladder made of earthly triumphs and successes. Thus in place +of rebellion came happy acquiescence. + +'But she was not yet contented. She was convinced that there was a life +for her which she could not or would not lead if she were like others; +but this life she could not find. She saw no intimations of it in +herself. She had no genius for any special thing, and she continued +restless and disturbed, wondering what it was appointed to her to do. At +length it came to her. + +'One day, as she was passing the house of her physician, through the +open window she saw and heard that which induced her to go in and offer +her services. A man in a disgusting stage of intoxication had cut his +arm badly, and had come to have it bound up. His little child was with +him, shrieking with terror, her face and clothes covered with dirt. The +doctor roughly and with ill-concealed repugnance was caring for the +wound, while the cook, with no attempt at concealment, was loudly +expressing her disapprobation of the whole proceeding. Laetitia assisted +the doctor, and washed off the blood; then took the child home with her, +bathed her, gave her clean clothes and a dinner, and sent her away with +a new happiness in her heart. While she was doing all this, she found +what she had been seeking. There are very many things in this world +disagreeable in the extreme, which ought to be done with interest, with +care, with _love_. Why should she not undertake to do them? In +themselves they would be repugnant, but _she_ would do them for God, and +she loved her Heavenly Father so well that the hardest thing done for +Him would be the sweetest. In a day or two the feeling settled itself: +it was firmly impressed upon her mind that in these employments she +would have rest. + +'One morning, about two years perhaps after the first day of her sorrow, +she dropped into my room with something of her old suddenness, and, +after the customary greetings, said simply: 'I am happy again now.' + +''You need not tell me that: I can see it in your face.' + +'The pleased expression remained for a moment, and then an intensely +black cloud fell upon her countenance. She said nothing more, and in a +few minutes went away. You see how it was--by one of those freaks by +which the imagination loves to torture us, my remark recalled her whole +misery and its unalterable cause, and having lost for the time the +keynote to her new-found joy, the other took entire possession of her +mind and overwhelmed it. In a few days she came back to me, and I said: +'I pained you when you were here before. I do not know how, but I am +very sorry.' + +'You did pain me, but you were entirely innocent. Afterward it grieved +me still more that I _was_ pained--that what you said had the _power_ to +pain me. I will tell you all, if you will hear it;' and, without waiting +for my answer, she gave me the key to the last two years of her life. + +'She finished, but I had nothing to reply. She had said all. Hitherto I +had led her, but now her experience was deeper than mine. Besides, I +could then less than ever understand the life that was opening before +her, for I had just yielded my heart and promised my hand to one whom I +loved; and though I by no means thought it impossible that she, too, +might have tried the same path, yet I knew she thought so; and I could +not conceive how she could look forward with contentment to a life in +which that element of happiness was wanting. I could only assure her of +my own warm affection, an assurance which gave her a pleasure that it +always makes me happy to think of. + +'Notwithstanding the apparently contradictory evidence of her late +depression, her new experience was not precarious and uncertain: it was +firm, enduring, to be _rested_ upon in the most trying emergencies; yet +it was not, for many years, unwavering. During all that period of a +woman's life when looks and manners pass for so much, and the real +character for so little, she suffered at times greatly. As she went +onward, every new phase of the feelings which possess a girl's heart +brought with it its own pang, and each had to be overcome, some by +stifling, some by postponement to another existence, and others by +studying to dissever, if possible, the essential sentiment from the +shows in which it was imbedded. She was unwilling passively to outgrow +her trials, feeling that thereby she would lose the strength they were +intended to give. Her work, however, helped her more than anything. She +was not eager to enter upon it. She did not stretch forth impatient, +unskilled hands toward what her Father had designed for her. Entirely +confident, she was right, she was at ease, knowing her work would come +to her in the proper time, and it did. + +'I must say something about this work of hers, else you will be misled. +She undertook to do that which others would not do, or would not do +well, owing to a natural dislike to the thing itself. Not intending to +become a drudge, she did not allow indolence or sentimentality to shift +upon her that which others would be all the better for doing themselves. +She knew what Master she served, and looked to Him for guidance, and not +to the wishes and opinions of her fellow mortals. Gradually she found +enough to do, first in her own house, and then outside. Friends and +acquaintances called upon her, philanthropic societies applied for her +services, surgeons and nurses sought her assistance, and even strangers +learned that there was one who would willingly do for them, in cases of +emergency, what they could not do, and what no wages could procure well +done. As her life became known, she obtained the respect of some, the +contempt of others, and the wonderment of most. I will not specify what +she did, for my story is already getting too long; but you would be +surprised to know how often she was needed. + +'Her means, though small, were large enough to allow her to do most of +her work gratuitously, but she received sufficient pecuniary +compensation during the year to enable her to provide well for herself +and give much to others. + +'In pursuing the duties of her vocation, she came in contact at one time +or another with almost every kind of misery, and though, from +familiarity, she ceased to be shocked at new forms of suffering, yet she +never became hardened, but each year grew more tender and sympathizing. + +'In due time the practical workings of the great sin of the nineteenth +century came under her observation. She talked with fugitive slaves, and +all the pent-up fire within her burst forth in intense indignation. She +had not thought of the question before--it had not been in her way; but +now every feeling, her love of God, her love of country, her great +interest in human rights and destinies, conspired to make her throw her +whole soul into it, and she saw slavery as it is, its intense wickedness +and its fearful results. She looked with dismay at its effect upon the +country, its 'trail' upon everything in it, on church, on politics, on +society, on commerce, on manufactures, on education. There was nothing +which had not been corrupted by it--it was fast eating into the vitals +of religion and liberty. The more she studied the subject the more +earnest grew her feeling. But what should she do? She had not lost +self-love, that passion which never deserts us; but she had lost its +_glamour_--eyes that have wept much see clear--and she knew that the +least valuable offering which a woman without good looks, high position, +or great talent, can make to an unpopular cause, is--herself. So far +from her conspicuous support of a new thing being an encouragement and +assistance to others, it would be a hindrance: fear of being identified +with her would be another lion to be encountered in the path. + +'She loved her cause better than she loved herself, and would not make +it more odious by any marked advocacy of it. It was a new trial to her, +but she did not murmur. One who in early youth has rebelled against the +very laws by which he has his existence, and has become reconciled, does +not go through life hitting his head against every projection which +society thrusts in his way. She did what she could. She cleared +_herself_, as far as possible, from all participation in the sin, gladly +avowed her views when called upon, and never hesitated to show, by +suitable words and acts, her sympathy with a despised people. Yet she +could not accomplish much. But if she did little for the cause, it did a +great deal for her. It broadened her life, enlarged her views, increased +her comprehension of the world's progress as revealed in history, and +brought her into closer sympathy with reformers of all ages. It gave her +a perpetual object of interest. It was like a great drama, whose acts +were years and whose scenes were continually passing before her. It gave +a new zest to life, made this world more real, and diminished her +longings for the next. In narrowing her friendships it made them more +vital and satisfactory; and being in communion with hundreds of other +minds in the country, reading their thoughts became almost like personal +intercourse with them, and was a new happiness to her. Studying daily a +subject of such vast complications, her mind perceptibly grew, and from +year to year she was able to grasp new and higher truths. She gained the +hatred of a few clear-sighted opponents, but most persons only ridiculed +her, contemptuously wondering why she should pursue this course when her +interest lay so clearly the other way. But she was now far beyond the +reach of such weapons. + +'I have given you, thus, a sketch of the history and character of +Laetitia, but I cannot reproduce her as she appears to my own mind. You +must fill up the outlines from your own personal knowledge. I fear I +have rendered her too intense, and, perhaps, too sombre. Intense she +certainly was, but it did not oppress one in ordinary intercourse; and +she was not at all sombre. After she recovered fully from her youthful +grief, her elasticity of temperament returned, and her love of fun. She +looked on the bright side of all things, and was full of encouragement +and hope for her friends. To me, besides being, during the last five +years particularly, a valuable friend and adviser--no one but myself can +know how valuable--she was always an interesting companion. And yet she +was not generally liked. She was seldom understood. Her life was so +deep, her tone of thought so peculiar; and her dependence upon the +opinions of others so slight, that persons ordinarily could not 'make +her out,' as they said. Still she had very warm friends, and derived +great pleasure from their friendship. I have never seen any one derive +more. But she distrusted strangers; I mean their interest in her. She +did not expect new persons to care for her, and it took her a long while +to be sure that they did. I must myself confess, for the first and last +time, that until within two or three years I never met her after an +absence without being newly impressed with her exceeding homeliness. It +was a sin against friendship, I knew, and I was glad when I felt I was +free from it.' + +'It was not so with me,' I said. 'After I became accustomed to her face +it never affected me unpleasantly. I did not see the features, but the +spirit which animated them.' + +'Yes, you were with her continually, and, besides, she must have been so +completely identified in your mind with the relief of pain, that you +could think of her only as an angel of mercy. It was a great advantage +to her that she was always scrupulously neat in her dress and person; +and her clothes, too, were well put on, if without a great deal of +taste. + +'Upon the whole, her life was a happy one, though not perhaps triumphant +except in periods of exaltation, for there was a large part of her +nature unsatisfied; but she was thoroughly contented, willingly living +as long as was necessary, glad to go whenever the time came. She never +expected to die young, but she did; she was only thirty-six.' + +'She seemed older,' I said. + +'Yes, she always looked older than she was, and then she had lived so +much that she necessarily impressed one as being old. + +'She followed,' continued Mrs. Simmons, resuming her narrative, 'with +increasing interest the progress of the grand anti-slavery drama, until +that winter which, in defiance of all mathematical measurements, every +American _knows_ to be the longest in the annals of his country. With +fixed attention she watched every event, every indication. What next +would come she could not see, but she felt sure she should have some +part in it, whatever it was. At length the signal gun pealed forth, the +first shot was fired, the spell was broken. She wrote me, 'America calls +her sons and daughters. Up! up! to work! all true-hearted men and women! +live for me, die for me, and your reward shall be everlasting. There is +a work for all, for all who love freedom, for all who love democracy, +for all who love humanity, for all who love right law, union, and +peace.' + +'She felt that all her life had been preparing for this moment. Averse +to war as she was from instinct and principle, she yet believed it +necessary in the progress of the world, and her clear eyes scattered all +the sophisms which made both sides partly wrong and partly right. She +looked only at essential principles, and she saw that on one side was +God, and in the current of His good will to men they were fighting; on +the other was Satan, and by whatever plausible arguments he might +deceive some, he could never do aught but cause and perpetuate evil. Her +mind was quickly made up, and she asked me in her letter what steps she +should take. I sent for her to come to me, and we applied to a committee +to receive her as nurse. A great many questions were asked her, and then +her application was accepted; but she was kept waiting for the final +answer more than a week. Fast as heads and hearts and hands moved in +those days, still time could not be annihilated--it must have its place +in every work. I was present when her case was discussed. + +''I think she is an enthusiast,' said one; 'I am sure she will not do.' + +''We are all enthusiasts now,' answered another; 'that does not make any +difference.' + +''I don't believe she is,' exclaimed a pretty young woman; 'behind such +a face there can be only a very matter-of-fact mind.' + +'A tall, cold-looking lady said: 'No, she is a devotee; I know it by her +manner. We do not want such persons.' + +''I do not think we can afford to lose her services,' interrupted +another, who had been looking over a pile of papers. 'Listen to her +testimonials. Here is one from Dr. Weston, another from the Rev. Mr. +Samuels, and others. Listen, she is just the one we want.' + +All listened, and when Laetitia came, after another flood of questions, +her credentials were given her. During this delay, though she was, like +all the rest of us, at white heat regarding her country, she was +entirely quiet about herself. I asked her what she would do if she were +not accepted. 'I shall go,' said she, 'whatever obstacles are thrown in +the way.' She started very soon for the seat of war. I came here with +her to see that she had everything she needed, and you know the rest +better than I do.' + +Yes, I knew the rest, for I had been with her ever since. + +Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a +'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be +received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of +experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary, +I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a +new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I +passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face. +'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a +perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was +again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a +side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a +lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened +to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen +words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I +must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going +to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the +previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed. +I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her +assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in +the building. + +Her presence in the hospital was soon evident. The surgeons found with +surprise that her skill and knowledge were equal to every requirement, +that she shrank from no task, however fearfully repelling it might be, +and they quickly began to avail themselves of her womanly deftness. To +the soldiers she was a perpetual blessing. Every means which her +thoughtful experience could suggest she put in requisition to soothe +their pain or strengthen them to bear it. Nature, who never denies all +gifts to any of her children, had given her a good voice, not powerful, +but sweet and penetrating, and often, when all else failed, I have seen +her lull a patient to sleep with some favorite tune set to appropriate +words. Priceless indeed were her services, and priceless was the +recompense she received. + +But for the humor that peeped out occasionally in Miss Sunderland, to an +ordinary observer her character--as she moved unambitiously through the +wards, doing always the right thing at the right time, unexpectant of +blame and regardless of praise, obeying directions apparently to the +very letter, yet never allowing the mistakes or carelessness of the +director to mar her own work--would have seemed almost colorless; but I +have never considered myself an ordinary observer where character is +concerned, and I soon saw that hers was not the unreasoning goodness of +instinct, that it derived life and tone from a past full of culture and +discipline. I noticed in her three things particularly: First, complete +and unusual happiness, a happiness entirely independent of the incidents +of the day. It was as if an unclouded sun were perpetually shining in +her heart. This came, I knew afterward, from the fact that she was +serving the cause she loved most, that she was doing her work well, and +that through it and connected with it she found place for all her best +qualities and highest knowledge. Second, her thorough refinement. +Without, as I perceived, hereditary breeding, and without conventional +pruderies, she had a rare purity and elevation of feeling, which exerted +a manifest and constant influence, sadly needed in a soldiers' hospital. +Third, her life within. From choice, not from necessity, her life +continually turned upon itself; from within she found her chief motive, +sanction, and reward, and this took from her intercourse with others all +pettiness, and made their relations to herself uncommonly truthful. + +From time to time, as the scene of battle shifted, we removed to other +hospitals, I always accompanying Miss Sunderland; but at last, in the +spring, we again got back to Washington. The battles all around were +raging fearfully, and the wounded were continually brought to us in +scores. Day and night Miss Sunderland was engaged. Usually careful of +herself in the extreme, she seemed now to forget all prudence. + +'You cannot endure this,' said I one day to her. 'Your first duty is to +take care of your health.' + +'No, no,' said she, 'my first duty is to save the lives of these men; +the second, to take care of my health for their future benefit; but I +cannot give out now. Don't you see how necessary my work is?' + +'Yes, I see it,' I replied. 'I don't know how you could spare yourself, +but it does not seem right that you should be entirely worn out.' + +'Yes, it _is_ right,' answered she; 'a life saved now is of as much +consequence as one saved next year. I am useful at this time, for I +understand my profession; but others are learning the art of nursing in +no feeble school, and if I die, you will find plenty of new comers ready +to fill my place.' + +I knew from this that she anticipated the result, yet neither did I +myself see how it could be avoided; but I resolved to watch and spare +her all I could. + +During all the year, notwithstanding her unceasing cares, she had kept +herself well informed on public affairs. She knew every incident of the +war, and particularly all its moral defeats and victories. At one time +defeats of both kinds seemed to come thick and fast. She would shudder +sometimes, as she laid down the newspaper, and say: 'This prolongs the +war such a time;' weeks, months, or years, as it might be; but she never +was really disheartened. She did not doubt that the contest, when it did +come to a conclusion, would end in the triumph of the right, in the +triumph of freedom, in the regeneration of the nation; and her courage +never yielded, her resolution never faltered, till one day in the latter +part of May. + +She went out then in the afternoon to breathe the fresh air she so much +needed, but in a half hour came back with a new look in her face. A +stern, forbidding expression did not leave her during the day, and at +night she tossed about on her bed, wakeful and disturbed. At length she +rose, and sat for more than an hour by the window in the darkness, +seeking that peace which had left her so unaccountably. A new thought, +in time, took possession of her. She went back, and slept. In the +morning she called me to her, and told me that on the previous day she +had seen a black man knocked down in the streets of Washington and +carried in chains to slavery. Then she said in earnest tones: 'Child' +(she always called me _child_, though I was not much younger than +herself), 'have you in your life done all that you could do against this +abomination?' + +'No,' said I. + +'You hate it?' She asked; 'you understand its vileness, and hate it?' + +'Yes, I do now, from the bottom of my heart.' + +'Will you not promise me that until you die, you will, regardless of +self, use every effort in your power against it?' + +'I will, in all solemness and truth.' + +She was satisfied, and said no more, for she never wasted words, and I +recognized this as her legacy to me. The next day she was taken ill. I +immediately sent for Mrs. Simmons, who thought she would be able to take +her home with her; but before she arrived, I saw it would not be +possible. Her only hope of recovery was in remaining where she was. + +Mrs. Simmons came, and Miss Sunderland, notwithstanding our careful +preparations, was so overcome with emotion at meeting her old friend, +that for some time she could scarcely speak. After this warmth of +feeling had subsided, she looked up in her face with a pleasant smile, +and said: + +'I was well named, after all. I have entered into the joy of my Lord.' + +The next day she had an earnest talk with her friend on the present +state of the country. Her faith had returned through intuition, but the +grasp of her intellect was weakened by disease, and she could not see +clearly the grounds of it. Mrs. Simmons, though she had, like the rest +of us, seasons of doubt, was in a very hopeful mood that morning, +hopeful for our leading men, for the common people, and for the tendency +of events; and she explained the reasons for her belief that the +enormities of that period were no new crime, but a remnant of the old +not to be eradicated at once, any more than it is possible for an +individual to turn from great baseness to real goodness without some +backslidings, even after the most unmistakable of conversions. Miss +Sunderland was satisfied, the future again became clear to her, and +after that she seemed to lose interest in the details of affairs. Her +thoughts and conversation were filled with heaven and a regenerated +earth. + +We clung to hope as long as possible, but she herself saw the end of the +disease from the beginning. She talked with us, and with the soldiers +who were permitted to see her, as long as she was able. Wise words she +spoke, and words ever to be remembered; but at last weakness overcame +her, and her life was but a succession of gasps. One morning, after +being unconscious for many hours, she opened her eyes wide and looked at +us. She glanced from one to the other, and then, fixing her gaze on Mrs. +Simmons, said: + +'Mary, I am glad--I am glad'--but she was too weak, she could not finish +the sentence. Again she essayed. We heard the words 'frightfully +homely,' but we could not catch the rest. The light faded from her eyes, +and we thought we had seen the last expression of that wise and vigorous +mind; but the next day the bright, conscious look came again into her +face, but it gave no evidence of recognition, though ardent affection +sought eagerly for it. For a moment she lay still, and then said, in a +feeble but distinct voice: + +'It is better to enter into life maimed and halt than, having two hands +and two feet, to be cast into hell.' A half hour afterward she said +softly, as if to herself: + +'The joy of my Lord.' + +They were her last words. She relapsed into unconsciousness, and +lingered till the dawn of the next day, when she went to join that +glorious and still-increasing band of martyrs who have been found worthy +to die for our country. + + + + +SIMONY. + + Thou hast diamonds and emeralds and greenbacks, + Thou hast more than a mortal can crave; + Thou canst make a big pile, yet be honest, + Contractor--oh, why wilt thou shave? + + + + +NATIONAL ODE. + +SUGGESTED BY THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION OF JANUARY 1, 1863. + + + I. + + Shine forth upon the earth, + Bright day of dedicated birth, + And breathe in thundering accents thy command! + A mighty nation's heart awake, + Her self-enwoven fetters shake, + And vivify the pulses of the land! + Arising from the past + With stormy clouds o'ercast, + And darkened by a long-enduring night, + The Future's child and Freedom's--seraph bright! + Arise great day, and legions of the free, + Beneath thy conquering flag, lead forth to victory. + + + II. + + Great Freedom dead! Foul thought + From lies of vaunting Treason caught, + And Fear's pale minions, wrapped in sorrow's pall. + Great Freedom dead! In God-like power, + 'Tis Freedom rules e'en this dread hour, + And guides the tempest 'neath whose blows we fall. + Yea! War and Anarchy + Discord and Slavery, + And drunken Death, and all these tears + Shaking our hearts with unaccustomed fears-- + E'en these are Freedom, waiting to arise + In glad eternal triumph from her foul disguise. + + + III. + + Our country's glory slain! + Her kingdom rent and torn in twain! + Her strong foundations crumbling into dust! + With Truth's shield armed, and sword of light, + Speak thou, Columbia, in thy might, + Unharmed by thy false children's hate and lust. + Arise--no more betrayed + By fears too long obeyed, + And bid, from shore to distant shore, + Ten million voices, like the ocean's roar, + In one full chorus gloriously proclaim + The pride and splendor of thy star-immortal fame. + + IV. + + Arise! no more delay! + Arise! For this triumphant day + Shall crush the serpent cherished in thy breast. + E'en now the slimy coils unfold, + The venomed folds relax their hold, + The tooth is drawn that stung thee from thy rest. + Arise! For with a groan + Falls Slavery from his throne! + While, seizing Song's immortal lyre, + And girt afar with Heaven's Promethean fire, + Eternal Freedom, winged with prophecy, + Awakes, in swelling chords, the Anthem of the FREE. + + + V. + + No more Conspiracy, + With Treason linked and Anarchy, + Shall dig, with secret joy, their country's grave. + No more thy waning cheek shall pale, + Thy trembling limbs with terror fail, + Thy bleeding wounds Heaven's balsam vainly crave. + Uplift thy forehead fair, + And mark the monstrous snare + Of subtle foes, who sucked thy fainting breath, + And yielding thee to the embrace of death, + Awaited the fulfilment of their reign, + To shed thy lovely limbs dismembered o'er the plain. + + + VI. + + No more, degenerate, + And heedless of their darkening fate, + Shall thine own children revel in thy woes-- + Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car, + Led on by War's red, baleful star, + No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes-- + No more abandoned, bare, + Piercing with shrieks the air, + Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high + Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky + The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind, + Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind. + + + VII. + + No longer in sad scorn + Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn, + Forsaking her false kingdom in the West, + Quitting a world too sunk in crime + To heed that glorious light sublime-- + No longer shall she hide her burning crest-- + No more her children's cries + In vain appeal shall rise, + While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks + With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock, + And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate + The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate. + + + VIII. + + Thy courts no more defiled, + Thy people's hearts no more beguiled! + What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear? + Prosperity and holy Peace + Within thy borders shall increase-- + The Future's dawning glory draweth near! + The vine-clad South shall rest + Upon her brother's breast, + And, smiling in the glory of his worth, + Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth, + While tributes of the world's full treasures blent + With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent! + + + IX. + + Joy! Joy! Awake the strain, + And still repeat the glad refrain + Of Liberty, resounding to the sky. + Around thee float thy sacred dead, + Whose martyr blood for thee was shed, + Whose angel choirs, celestial, hover nigh! + Joy! Joy! No longer weep: + Rich harvests shalt thou reap, + Whose seeds, in tears and anguish sown, + With bounteous rapture thy rich feasts shall crown, + When, rising to fulfil thy destiny, + Thou leadest the nations on to Peace and Liberty. + + + X. + + Hail then to thee, great day, + Bright herald of the coming sway + Of Truth immortal and immortal Love-- + Uplift in fuller strains thy voice, + Call all the nations to rejoice, + And grasp thy olive--Time's long-promised dove! + No longer tempest-tost, + Redeem dark ages lost; + And may the work by thee begun + Ne'er pause nor falter 'till yon rising sun + Beholds the flag of Promise, now unfurled + 'Neath Freedom's conquering smile, extending o'er the world. + + + + +THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI. + + +A complete history of the bombardment and subsequent surrender of Forts +Jackson and St. Philip, and of the brilliant passage of our fleet up the +Mississippi river, which resulted in the capitulation of New Orleans, is +yet wanting, to afford the public a full comprehension of all the +attendant circumstances, respecting which there appears to have been +some misunderstanding. The daring exploit of running by the forts must +be recorded as another evidence of the historic valor and coolness of +the American navy. No less renown will attach in future times to the +bombardment of the forts by the mortar fleet, conducted as it was +entirely on scientific principles, and proving the efficiency of +mortars, when used with discretion and with a knowledge of the +localities. The great destruction in the forts was only fully +ascertained after the surrender, and shows that the success of the +fleet, in passing them safely, depended, in a great measure, upon the +inability of greater resistance on the part of Fort Jackson. + +A number of vessels, comprising the 'Western Gulf Squadron,' were +commanded by comparatively young officers, and that very important +branch of the same, the mortar flotilla, was mostly under the individual +guidance of captains (acting masters) selected from the merchant marine. +It became necessary for the navy department to select a +commander-in-chief (flag officer) and a commander for the mortar +flotilla, possessed of such qualities as to manage and render effective +the various branches of this peculiar combination of armed vessels, as +well as to inspire confidence and give satisfaction to their respective +commands. + +The appointment of Captain David G. Farragut as flag officer of the +squadron, was acknowledged as a judicious one. He was popular in his +fleet, and has realized the expectations of the country. His personal +bravery was demonstrated during the hazardous passage of the +forts--while his ship was enveloped in flames, kindled from an opposing +fire raft--by his dashing attack on the Chalmette forts near New +Orleans, and his speedy reduction of the city. + +The choice of a suitable commander for the mortar flotilla was less +difficult, inasmuch as this little fleet was a creation of the officer +who was chosen as its leader. David D. Porter, for gallantry and +ingenuity, for theoretical and practical seamanship, and for general +popularity among the officers of his own rank and date, has no superior +in the navy, and his appointment to this command was truly fortunate. + +The squadron, after having rendezvoused at Key West and Ship Island, +arrived without any material detention, at the South West Pass of the +Mississippi. A want of acquaintance with the changes in the bar, +occasioned probably by the sinking of four or five rafts, flatboats, and +an old dry dock by the enemy, resulted in some delays, but the whole +squadron at length, with the exception of the frigate Colorado, got +safely over, and anchored twelve miles up the river at the head of the +passes. + +The efficiency of mortars, elevated permanently at forty-five degrees, +depends chiefly upon an accurate knowledge of the distance to the object +to be fired upon. This distance determines the quantity of powder +necessary for the discharge, and the length of the fuses to be employed. +Captain Porter understood the impossibility of judging and estimating +distances and bearings correctly, particularly when the objects are for +the most part hidden from view, as was the case with the forts on the +wooded and crooked Mississippi, and had therefore requested of the +department the aid of a party from the U. S. coast survey, and the writer +of these notes had been detailed by Prof. A. D. Bache, the +superintendent of that work. One acting assistant, two sub-assistants, +and one aid were attached to the party, and the steam gunboat Sachem was +placed at their disposal. This vessel arrived in the Mississippi on the +11th of April. Captain Porter at once requested Mr. Gerdes to furnish a +reliable survey of several miles of the river, below and including the +fortifications. In this service a number of gunboats belonging to the +fleet and to the mortar flotilla accompanied the Sachem, partly to +afford protection, and partly to draw the enemy's attention from the +operations of the surveyors. Mr. Gerdes commenced work with his party on +the 13th of April, and continuing for five consecutive days, made a +reliable map of the river and its shores from the 'Jump' to and +including Forts Jackson and St. Philip, with their outworks and water +batteries; the hulks, supporting the chain across the river, and every +singular and distinguishable object along its banks. The survey was made +by triangulation carried forward simultaneously on both sides of the +river. Two coast survey signals were found, the 'Jump telegraph post,' +and 'Salt-work's chimney top,' of which the geodetic relations were +known, and the work was founded upon a base line connecting these two +points. Sub-assistant Oltmanns, and Mr. Bowie as aid, were detailed for +the west shore, Mr. Gerdes and acting assistant Harris taking the +eastern side, while sub-assistant Halter observed angles from permanent +stations. The angular measurements were made with all kinds of +instruments found suitable to the locality. Only a few of the stations +were on solid ground, nearly all the shore being overflowed. Frequently +the members of the party were compelled to mount their instruments on +the chimney tops of dilapidated houses. In other places boats were run +under overhanging trees on the shore, in which signal flags were +hoisted, and the angles measured below with sextants. It was very +satisfactory, however, that the last measurement determined (leading to +the flagstaff on St. Philip) agreed almost identically with the location +given by the coast survey several years ago. It seemed to be a regular +occupation of the garrison in the fort, to destroy, during the +night-time, the marks and signals which were left daily by the party; +and for this reason, Mr. Gerdes caused numbered posts to be set in the +river banks, and screened with grass and reeds so that they could not be +found by the enemy in the dark. From these marks, which were separately +determined, he was enabled to furnish to Captain Porter the distances +and bearings, from almost any point on the river to the forts, and by +the resulting data the commander selected the positions for his mortar +vessels. + +On the 17th day of April the mortar schooners were moved to their +designated positions, and the exact distances and bearings of each +vessel being ascertained from the map, were furnished to the respective +captains. Then the bombardment fairly commenced, and was continued, with +only slight intermission, for six days. Twice Captain Porter ordered +some of the vessels to change their positions when he found localities +that would answer better; the coast survey party furnished the new data +required. From the schooners, which were fastened to the trees on the +riverside, none of the works of the enemy were visible, but the exact +station of each vessel and its distance and bearings from the forts had +been ascertained from the chart. The mortars were accordingly charged +and pointed and the fuses regulated. Thus the bombardment was conducted +entirely upon theoretical principles, and as such with its results, +presents perhaps a new feature in naval warfare. When the whole number +of shells discharged from the flotilla is compared with those that fell +and left their marks on the dry parts of Fort Jackson (to which must be +added, in the same ratio, all those falling in the submerged parts), the +precision of the firing appears truly remarkable, and must command our +highest admiration, particularly when we consider that every shot was +fired upon a _computed_ aim. + +During the days of the bombardment, the exact damage done to the forts +could not be ascertained. A deserter from the garrison came to the fleet +and stated that Jackson was a complete wreck, but his information was +considered rather doubtful. After six days' firing, when the forts +showed no disposition to surrender, and when our stock of ammunition was +considerably reduced, Captain Porter submitted to the flag officer a +plan for passing with the fleet between the forts. The order to pass the +forts was given on the 23d of April, and a favorable reference in this +order was made to Captain Porter's plan. On the morning of the 24th of +April, at three o'clock, the fleet got under weigh. The steam gunboats +of the flotilla ran up close to the western fort and engaged the water +battery and the rampart guns, and from the mortar vessels a shower of +shells was thrown into the besieged work. This bombardment made it +impossible for the leaders of the enemy to keep their men on the +ramparts. Three times they broke, although they were twice driven back +to their guns at the point of the bayonet. From Fort St. Philip a much +greater resistance was offered to the ships in their passage up between +the works, as that fort had not been (comparatively speaking) so +effectively attacked, nor had it suffered previously nearly so much as +the other from the mortars of Captain Porter. That the resistance of +Jackson was much slighter on this occasion, is further demonstrated, by +the fact, that our ships received little injury from the port side (Fort +Jackson), while nearly all the shot holes were found to be on the +starboard, the Fort Philip side. + +After the fleet had thus passed the stronghold of the enemy, and +destroyed ten or twelve of his armed steamers, the famous ram 'Manassas' +among them, Captain Farragut gallantly ascended the river, took and +occupied the quarantine, where he paroled the garrison, and then +continued his course for New Orleans. In the mean time, it had been +ascertained, that the iron-clad battery Louisiana, fourteen guns, and +two or three other armed steamers of the enemy were still unharmed near +the forts, and it appeared therefore precarious, for Captain Porter to +remain with his mortar schooners (all sailing vessels) quite unprotected +and liable to momentary attack from such overpowering structures. He +consequently despatched them to the gulf, to watch and cut off in the +rear all communication with the forts, while he remained with the few +steam gunboats of the flotilla, at the station occupied during the +bombardment. The Sachem, commanded by Mr. Gerdes, he had sent east of +Fort St. Philip, to aid Major-General Butler in landing troops by the +back bayou, leading to the quarantine. This duty was successfully +executed by the coast survey party. They sounded the channel, and buoyed +it out with lamps, and thus facilitated the landing of about one +thousand five hundred soldiers during the night in boats and launches of +the transports. + +By this time, flag officer Admiral Farragut had successfully silenced +the extensive batteries of Chalmette, and finally appeared with his +fleet before New Orleans. + + LIST of the Mortar Flotilla, attached to the + Western Gulf Squadron, under the command + of Com. D. D. PORTER. + + STEAMERS. + + STEAMER DIVISION. + + _Harriet Lane_, Lt. Com. J. M. Wainwright. + Flagship of Com. D. D. Porter. + _Westfield_, Com. W. B. Renshaw. + _Owasco_, Lt. Com. J. Guest. + _Clifton_, Act. Lt. Com. Charles Baldwin. + _Jackson_, Lt. Com. S. E. Woodsworth. + _Miami_, Lt. Com. A. D. Harrel. + _Sachem_, Ass't. Coast Survey, F. H. Gerdes. + + MORTAR VESSELS. + + FIRST DIVISION + + _Norfolk Packet_, Schooner, Lt. Com. W. Smith. + _Oliver H. Lee_, " Act. Mas. W. Godfrey. + _Para_, " Act. E. G. Furber. + _C. P. Williams_, " Act. A. R. Langthorn. + _Arletta_, " Act. T. E. Smith. + _W. Bacon_, " Act. W. P. Rogers. + _Sophronia_, " Act. L. Bartholomew. + + SECOND DIVISION + + _T. A. Ward_, " Lt. Com. W. W. Queen. + _M. J. Carlton_, " Act. Mas. Charles E. Jack. + _Mathew Vasser_, " Act. H. H. Savage. + _George Mangham_, " Act. J. Collins. + _Orvetta_, " Act. F. C. Blanchard. + _S. C. Jones_, " Act. J. D. Graham. + + THIRD DIVISION + + _John Griffith_, " Act. H. Brown. + _Sarah Bruen_, " Act. A. Christian. + _Racer_, " Act. A. Phinney. + _Sea Foam_, " Act. H. E. Williams. + _Henry James_, " Act. L. W. Pennington. + _Dan Smith_, " Act. G. W. Brown. + _Horace Beal_, Bark, Act. G. W. Summer. + + + The First Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. Smith. + The Second Division Commanded by Lt. Com. W. W. Queen. + The Third Division Commanded by Lt. Com. K. R. Breese. + The Steamer Division Commanded by Com. W. B. Renshaw. + + + LIST of Vessels and Officers commanding + them, that passed up the river: + + FIRST DIVISION, CAPT. T. BAILY, Commanding. + + _Cayuga_, Lt. Com. N. B. Harrison. + _Pensacola_, Capt. Henry W. Morris. + _Mississippi_, Com. M. Smith. + _Oneida_, Com. S. P. Lee. + _Varuna_, Com. Charles S. Boggs. + _Katahdin_, Lt. Com. G. H. Preble. + _Wissahickon_, Lt. Com. A. N. Smith. + + SECOND DIVISION, Fleet Captain H. H. BELL, + Commanding. + + _Hartford_, Capt. R. Wainwright. + _Brooklyn_, Capt. Thomas T. Craven. + _Richmond_, Com. James Alden. + _Sciota_, Lt. Com. E. Donaldson. + _Iroquois_, Com. John De Camp. + _Pinola_, Lt. P. Crosby. + _Winona_, Lt. Com. Edward T. Nichols. + _Itasca_, Lt. Com. C. H. B. Caldwell. + _Kennebec_, Lt. Com. J. H. Russell. + +When this fact became known to General J. K. Duncan, he accepted terms +for the surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip to Commodore Porter. +While negotiations were progressing on board the 'Harriet Lane,' between +our own and the confederate officers, (that vessel, and the Westfield, +Clifton, Jackson, and Owasco, were at anchor between the two forts, each +carrying a large white flag at the masthead,) the leaders of the enemy's +marine forces set fire to the iron-clad battery Louisiana, cast her +loose, and sent her adrift straight for our fleet. This dishonorable act +on the part of the enemy during a time of truce, and while their own +officers were in consultation with the commander of our forces, on board +of a United States vessel, might have resulted in a very serious +disaster to us, had not the magazine of the Louisiana exploded before +she reached the fleet, which it did in full view of our vessels, and not +far off. This explosion was succeeded by a crash, presenting a scene +such as has been rarely witnessed. After this fearful episode, the +capitulation was concluded, and both the forts, the garrison, the +armament, ammunition, stock, and provisions, were formally surrendered +to Commander Porter, of the mortar flotilla, and transferred by him, on +the next day, to Major-General Butler, commanding the United States army +in the Department of the Gulf. + +Many contradictory opinions existed regarding the actual damage +inflicted by the bombardment, as well as by the broadside fire of the +passing fleet; and, Captain Porter desired Mr. Gerdes to make such a +survey of Fort Jackson, as would settle all doubts touching the matter +in question. Under his supervision, Acting Assistant Harris, aided by +the other members of his party, traced in their corresponding places on +the large existing detailed plan of the fort, all the injuries arising +from the attack. Every hole in the ground, (whether caused by the mortar +shells or round shot,) break in the walls, crack in the masonry, each +gun dismantled or disabled, the burnt citadel, the hospital and +outbuildings, the destroyed bridges and injured magazines, were noted by +actual measurement. + +The levees, which before the attack had kept the high water of the +Mississippi from entering the fort, were found destroyed in numerous +places by bomb-shells. Much of the area of the fort was in consequence +overflowed. The number of balls and shells which fell in the inundated +parts, was estimated from the proportion found in the dry parts. In the +plan, the submerged parts were distinctly marked, and it plainly shows, +that hardly one quarter of the whole area remained dry or above the +level of the water. + +From this survey the following statistics are gathered: + + 1. Number of 13 in. shells fired + from the mortar flotilla that fell + on solid ground 1,113 + + 2. Number of shells purposely + exploded over the forts 1,080 + + 3. Number of shells that fell in + overflowed ground (computed) 3,339 + + 4. Number of round shot visible + on dry ground fired from the + fleet and the gunboat of the + flotilla 87 + + 5. Number of round shot that + fell on overflowed ground + (computed) 261 + + 6. The total destruction of the citadel + of the forts, of the hospitals, the outbuildings, + the magazines, the bridges, + and of thirteen scows for use in the + moat. + + 7. The very severe injury to the ramparts, + particularly on the northwest side + to the casemates, all along the front, + (which were cracked from end to end,) + to the levees, which were completely + riddled, and to the works in general. + The demolition was so great, that the + shell holes in the ground left hardly + anywhere a free passage for walking. + +It is further ascertained from this survey, that the armament of the +fort consisted of fifty 32-pounders, seven columbiads, ten short guns, +three rifle guns, two brass field pieces, and three mortars, in all +seventy-five guns. + + * * * * * + +The following are extracts from Mr. Harris' report to Assistant Gerdes, +accompanying the plan, which was published by the Navy Department: + + 'My informant, (an intelligent and reliable eyewitness,) + voluntarily gave the credit of reducing the forts to the bomb + fleet. The fort was so much shaken by this firing, that it was + feared the casemates would come down about their ears. The loss of + life by the bombs was not great, as they could see them coming + plainly, and avoid them, but the effect of their fall and explosion + no skill could avert. + + 'About one shell in twenty failed to explode; even those that fell + in the water going off. It is worth noticing, that the bombs that + fell in the ditches close to the walls of the fort and exploded + there, shook the fort much more severely, than any of those that + buried themselves in the soft ground. + + 'The fort was in perfect order when the bombardment commenced, the + dirt which now disfigures everything is the accumulation of a few + days. The water did not enter the fort until the levee had been + broken by the bombs; during the summer of 1861, when the + Mississippi was even higher, the parade ground remained entirely + dry.' + +The above statistics and information show, that the surrender of the +forts was caused by the terrific bombardment of the mortar fleet, a fact +which should always remain identified with the brilliant achievements, +that ended in the recapture of the second commercial city of our +country. + + + + +REASON, RHYME, AND RHYTHM. + + + All arts are one, howe'er distributed they stand, + Verse, tone, shape, color, form, are fingers on one hand.' + + +INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME FIRST. + +The first volume of this work contains an inquiry into the principles of +art, and an attempt to present a rational solution of the delight felt +in the contemplation of Beauty. The related thoughts upon art and +beauty, found scattered almost at random over so many pages, and in so +many different tongues, have been brought together, and, closely linked +in logical sequences, placed in such connections that they now mutually +illustrate and corroborate one another. No longer drifting apart in the +bewildering chaos of multitudinous pages, they now revolve round a +common centre, the heart of all artistic beauty, through whose +manifestations alone it gains its power to charm the human soul: viz., +'the infinite attributes of the Author of all true Beauty.' + +These thoughts on Art and Beauty have been carefully compiled, +condensed, and arranged from many writers of eminence: Tissandier, +Ruskin, Schlegel, etc., etc.; and are interwoven with much original +matter, placing their great truths in new relations, and developing +their complex meanings. By working up _with them_ the thoughts suggested +_by them_, the author has sedulously endeavored to form them into a +whole of higher power. + +The first volume being devoted to the theory of art, an attempt has been +made in the second to bring the more general thoughts to a focus, and +concentrate their light upon the vexed and confused subject of +versification. The second volume may indeed be considered as a 'Manual +of Rhythm,' for the most _practical_ rules are given for its +construction and criticism, and simple and natural solutions offered of +its apparent irregularities and anomalies; while examples of sufficient +length are cited from our most musical poets to give just ideas of the +characteristics and power of all the measures in use in English +versification. + +That the book may prove useful to the reader, is the earnest wish of the +author! + + * * * * * + +LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO EUGENE B. COOK. + +When the busy little sailor bird builds himself a nest in which he--with +his mate and their tiny brood--may swing secure through the sudden +storms of fitful springs, and find shelter from the heats of summer, +sewing it so tightly together that the rain cannot permeate it, nor the +wild winds waft away the light beams and rafters of the swinging home, +we do not quarrel with the little architect because he has industriously +gleaned such materials as were needed for his purpose, because he has +torn his leaves from the great forest book of nature. The leaves are +freely given by God, and the little builder has a natural right to play +the artist with them, if he can succeed in forming them into a _new +whole_, fitted for the maintenance of a higher order of life. Thus the +thoughts of great men are the common heritage of humanity. + +Or, when we eat of the fragrant honey, we do not quarrel with the thymy +bees because they have blended for us the sweets of Hybla. The flowers +from which they were drawn are lovely and perfumed as before, but the +workers have made from them a _new whole_, in which the pilfered sweets +have gained a higher value from their perfect union. Those who prefer +the dewy juice as it exists in the plant, may use their own powers to +extract it, for the bee has not injured the flowers, and they may still +be found blooming in the keen mountain air; but let those who may not +scale the heights, nor work the strange transmutation, who yet love the +fragrant honey, eat--blessing the little artist for his waxen cells and +winged labor. + +Who would quarrel with a friend because he had roamed through many a +clime to find flowers for a wreath woven for our pleasure? Virgin Lilies +from the still lakes of Wordsworth, Evergreens from the labyrinthine +forests of Schlegel, Palm from the holy hills of Tissandier, Amaranth +with the breath of angels fresh upon it from the Paradise groves of +Ruskin, interwoven with Passion Flowers and Anemones of his own +wilds,--shall we not acknowledge our wreath as a new whole, seeing that +the isolated fractions are raised to a higher power in becoming +essential parts of a new unity? + +Eugene, the wreath of Lilies, Evergreen, Palm, and Amaranth--the honey +of Hybla--the many-leaved nest of the little architect, in which you may +swing through the storms of the finite, into the deep and cloudless blue +of the infinite,--are now before you! + +Will you not look up from the fleshless and skeleton perfection of the +problemed forms, which start at your slightest touch from the formal +squares of the chess board,--forms which confuse me with their +complexity, bewilder me in the mazes of their ceaseless combinations, +dazzle me with their chill erudition, and appal me with want of +life,--and smile acceptance on the glowing gifts here lovingly tendered +you? + + * * * * * + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST. + + CHAP. I, _Beauty._ + CHAP. II, _The Soul of Art._ + CHAP. III, _The Infinite._ + CHAP. IV, _Unity._ + CHAP. V, _Order, Symmetry, and Proportion._ + CHAP. VI, _Truth and Love._ + CHAP. VII, _The Artist and his Realm--The Ideal._ + + +BEAUTY + + 'The awful shadow of some unknown Power + Floats, though unseen, among us, visiting + This various world with as inconstant wing + As summer winds that creep from flower to flower.' + SHELLEY. + +A philosophical theory of poetry and the fine arts should consider, in +the first place, the fundamental and general laws of Beauty; in the +second place, analyze the faculties necessary for the perception or +creation of the Beautiful; and, in the last place, should strive to +account for the pleasure always experienced in its contemplation. Such +an analysis is necessary, as an introductory study, to the full and +complete comprehension of any specific branch of art. + +On the other hand, every specific art has its own special theory, +designed to teach the limits of its means, and the difficulties peculiar +to the medium through which it is to manifest the Beautiful, with the +various rules by which it must be regulated in its realization of the +fundamental laws of Beauty. + +A clear, deep, and comprehensive view of the origin and nature of the +Fine Arts, is the work most needed by the readers and thinkers of the +present century. Some noble attempts have indeed been made in this +direction, but, valuable as such essays may be, they do not yet +correspond to the growing, requisitions of the public mind. It is true +such a work would be one of great difficulty, exacting immense stores of +information, and highly cultivated tastes. The writer must possess the +logical power requisite for the most subtle analyses; he must have the +_creative_ genius to combine the scattered facts of natural beauty, with +their varied effects upon the human consciousness, into one great whole; +while, at the same time, the tenderness and susceptibility of the +_receptive_ genius must be equally developed in him. He should blend the +loving and devout soul of a Fra Angelico with the logical acumen of a +Bacon. How seldom is the creative genius sufficiently tender and humble +to be, in the full sense of the term, at the same time, _receptive_! + +After its treatment of the philosophical theory of Art, such a work +should also throw its light upon the special theories, and more general +rules of specific arts; for such rules, when true, are never arbitrary, +but spring from the fundamental laws, of universal Beauty. They are but +the external manifestation, through material mediums, of eternal laws. + +The compiler of the present article can offer no such great work to the +reader. An earnest effort will however be made to bring together the +related thoughts upon Art and Beauty. They are found scattered almost at +random over so many pages; to link them together by arranging them in +their logical sequences, placing them so that they will illustrate and +mutually corroborate one another: and, working up with them the thoughts +suggested by them, the author has labored to form of them a compact and +easily perused _whole._ For the ideas selected are _essentially +related_, and, scattered as they may have hitherto been, naturally +gravitate round a common centre. No longer drifting apart through the +chaos of multitudinous pages, they are now formed into a system of +order, a galaxy of which the central sun is--the Divine attributes as +manifested through the Beautiful. + +If the writer shall succeed in suggesting to some lucid and +comprehensive mind the fact that a noble field for the culture of the +human heart and soul remains almost unexplored, and induce one worthy of +the task to undertake its cultivation; or if her humble work shall +induce one lover of pure art to direct his attention to the glorious +promises which it reveals to him of a closer communion with the Great +Artist, the beneficent Creator of the Beautiful--she will feel herself +more than compensated for her 'pleasant labor of love.' + +All true art is symbolic; a thought, an idea, must always constitute the +significance, the soul of its outward form. The mere delusive +imitations, the servile copyings of the actual shapes of reality, are +not the proper objects of art. To form a master work of art, the idea +symbolized must be pure and noble; the technical execution, faultless. +No heavier censure can, however, be passed upon an artist, than that he +possesses only the technic or rhetoric of art, without having penetrated +to its subtle essence of forming thought. + +Man is chiefly taught through _symbolism_. Living in a symbolic world of +sensuous emblems, he seeks in them a substitute for the wondrous powers +of immediate cognition which he lost in his fall. His highest +destination is _symbolical_, for is he not made in the Divine image? +Through the symbolism of the matter is the soul taught its first lessons +in the school of life: when it is known and felt that nature is but the +symbol of the Great Spirit, the instinct of our own immortality awakes. +In the Old Covenant, the twilight of faith was studded with the starry +splendor of a marvellous symbolism; and the new era of the ascending and +ever-brightening dawn still bears on its front the glittering morning +star of symbolic Christian art. + +Notwithstanding its earthly intermixture, however it may have wandered +from its true source, however sensuous and worthless it may have become, +art, in its essence, is still divine. Men devoted to the pursuit of mere +material well being, have been too long in the habit of regarding poetry +and the arts as mere recreations, to be taken up at spare moments, +pursued when we have nothing better to do; as a relief for the ennui of +idleness, or an ornament for the centre table; without remembering how +many good and great men have given up their whole lives to its +advancement; without considering into how many hearts it has borne its +soothing lessons of faith and love. + +Men look upon art as if it were to be pursued merely for the sake of +art, for the egotistic pleasure of the artist, and not as a moral power +full of responsibility and dignity. We might as well suppose that +science is to be pursued merely for the sake of science, that we are to +think only that we may think. But while everything has its determinate +end in the lower world of matter, concurring in its degree to the life +of the whole; can there exist faculties and tendencies without aim in +the soul; permanent, regular, and general facts without a final cause? +Can art exist as an accidental fact in the bosom of society? Is it not +rather an important means for the development of the finer feelings of +the heart, the higher faculties of the soul? + +Man was created 'to glorify God and enjoy him forever,' says the +elementary catechism of the sternest of all creeds. Anything, therefore, +which sets before us more preeminently the glory of God, thus placing +more vividly before us the only source of all true enjoyment, must be, +in the highest sense of the word, useful to us, as enabling us to fulfil +the very end of our creation. Things that only help us to draw material +breath, are only useful to us in a secondary sense: if they alone are +thought of, they are worse than useless; for it would be better we +should not exist at all, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of our existence. Yet men in this material age speak as if +houses and lands, food and raiment, were alone useful; as if the open +eye and loving appreciation of all that He hath made were quite +profitless; as if the meat were more than the life, the raiment than the +body. They look upon the earth as a stable, its fruit as mere fodder, +loving the corn they grind and the grapes they crush better than the +gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden, so that the woe of the +Preacher has fallen upon us: 'Though God has made everything beautiful +in his time, also He hath set the world in their heart, so that no man +can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.' + + 'The age culls simples. + With a broad clown's back turned broadly to the glory of the stars; + We are gods by our own reck'ning, and may well shut up our temples-- + And wield on, amid the incense steam, the thunder of our cars. + + 'For we throw out acclamations of self-thanking, self-admiring, + With, at every mile run faster, 'Oh, the wondrous, wondrous age,' + Little thinking if we work our souls as nobly as our iron, + Or if angels will commend us at the goal of pilgrimage.' + +Utility has a nobler sense than a mere ministering to our physical +wants, a mere catering to our sense of luxury. Geology is surely higher +when refleshing the dry bones and revealing to us the mysteries of a +lost creation, than when tracing veins of lead and beds of iron; +astronomy, when opening the houses of heaven for us, than when teaching +us the laws of navigation. That these things are useful to us in a lower +sense, is God's merciful condescension to the wants of our material +life;--that we may discern their eternal beauty, and so glorify their +Maker in the enjoyment of His attributes, is an earnest, even here, of +our blissful immortality. + +If art has frequently fallen from its high mission, if it has often +failed to incarnate the divine ideas from which all its glories must +flow, it must be attributed in part to the artists themselves; in part +to the public for whom they labor, and whom they too often seek only to +amuse. They clutch at the ephemeral bouquets of the passing passions of +a day, not caring to wait for the unfading crowns of amaranth. If the +artist will stoop to linger in the Circean hall of the senses, he must +not be astonished if good and earnest men should reproach him with the +triviality of a misspent and egotistic life. + +If we should pause and examine into the reasons for the different +estimation in which art is held by different persons, we should find +them in the various definitions of the Beautiful which would be offered +us by the individuals in question. Let us linger for a moment to examine +such definitions. + +One class of men would tell us that the Beautiful is that which is +agreeable to the senses of sight and hearing. They would admire, in +painting, the delineation of naked flesh, luxuriant as it glows upon the +canvas of Vandyke and Rubens; in statuary, they would seek voluptuous +and sensual positions; while in music, they would love that which +titillates the ear, which lulls them into an indolent yet delicious +languor. Such men are the dwellers in the halls of Circean senses; they +can appreciate only the sensuous. The poets of this class are very +numerous. They never rise to those general ideas which are found in the +universal consciousness, but are forever occupied with fugitive +thoughts, passing as the hour in which they are born. They delight in +representing the _accidental_, the exceptional, the peculiar, the +fashion, mode, or exaggeration of the flying hour. They never sing of +the high and tender feelings which pervade the human heart; of the joys +and sorrows of the soul in its mystic relations with God, its +sympathetic affections with humanity; but delight in describing furtive +sensations, passing impressions, individual and subjective bliss and +woe. Never daring to grapple with the sublime yet tender simplicity of +nature, they sport with eccentricity, delight in fantastically related +ideas, revel in surprises, in sudden and unforeseen developments. Their +style is full of individualities and mannerisms, ornaments and +intricacies; the _coloring_ is always worth more than the _form_, the +sensation than the idea. Their heroes and heroines are grotesque beings, +sentimental caricatures, souls not to be comprehended, always placed in +unnatural situations, and surrounded with dark, gloomy, and impenetrable +mysteries. If their readers can be made to exclaim at every page: +'Inconceivable! astonishing! original!' they consider their work +perfect. Such poets seldom attempt long poems; if they should +imprudently do so, we find but little sequence, and nothing of that +clear order, of that marvellous _unity_, which mark the works of the +masters. Everything is sought to flatter that pretentious vanity of the +limited understanding which piques itself on its stereotyped knowledge, +always striving to usurp the higher empire of the divining soul. Such +writing certainly requires subtlety of intellect, for talent is required +to discover that which no one can see; to invent relations where none +exist. We may, indeed, often observe great perfection in the details, +high finish in the execution, keen intellect in the analysis; but +nothing in the thoughts which appeals to the universal heart. Brilliant +pictures succeed to brilliant pictures, decoration to decoration, but +there is an utter want of essential unity. Absorbed in the sensuous +gorgeousness of highly colored details, if they can but glue together +startling and overwrought images, they are satisfied, even while +neglecting the principal idea. They seize everything by the outside; +nothing by the heart. + +The painters of this class give us glaring colors and violent contrasts; +the musicians, antitheses, concetti, ingenious combinations, _tours de +force_, rather than flowing melodies or profound harmonies. The power +they _wish_, to possess spoils that they _really have_; all _true_ +inspiration abandons the hopeless artist in the midst of his ingenious +subtleties; it flies before his fantastic conceits; laughs at the +follies of his prurient fancies; and withdraws its solemn light from the +vain and presumptuous intellect, doting ever over its own fancied +superiority. Inspiration, that holy light only vouchsafed to the loving +soul, speaks to man in the silence of the subjective intellect. If the +heart is tossed by a thousand passing and selfish passions, how can its +solemn but simple and tender voice be heard? Suffering such inflated +spirits to plume themselves upon the transitory admiration they are +always sure of obtaining, it allows them to take the evil for the good; +the grotesque for the beautiful; the meteors of vanity for the heaven +stars of truth. + +Such artists love not the mighty arches of gothic architecture, in whose +vast curves and dim recesses lurks the mystic idea of the infinite; they +take no interest in the ascetic faces which the old masters loved to +picture, worn into deep furrows of care by penitence and holy sorrow, +though lighted with the triple ray of Faith, Hope, and Love. They have +no sympathies with the saints and heroes who have been great through +self-abnegation, for such lives are a constant reproach to their own +sybaritical tendencies. Constantly mistaking the effervescence of +passion for the fire of genius; viewing the sublime realities of +religion only as fantastic dreams; seeing nothing but the gloom of the +grave beyond the fleeting shadows of the present life; granting reality +to nothing but that which is essentially variable, phenomenal, and +contingent; forever revelling in the luxuriousness of mere +sensation--they understand only that which can be seen and handled. But +the devotion to the True in art is a disinterested worship--a worship +requiring the most heroic self--abnegation; for the love of fame, of +self, of pleasure, will so bewilder and confuse the artist, that he will +never be able to sound the depths of any art. And now, can we wonder if +pure and earnest men utterly refuse to acknowledge the dignity and worth +of art, when manifested to them through the works of fantastically +sensuous, or voluptuously sensual artists? This misconception of the +true aim of art, of the meaning of the Beautiful--with its natural +consequence, merely sensuous manifestations of Beauty through the medium +of different arts--has been one of the causes of the violent and +inveterate prejudices which have arisen against art itself in the minds +of many good men; and, were this view of beauty and art the true one, we +could not deny that such prejudices or opinions would be but too well +founded. To combat such debasing and false views of the aims of art, +will be the chief object of the present volume. If art were to be +degraded into the servant and minister of the senses, we would be among +the first to condemn it. But all Beauty proceeds from the All Fair, who +hath pronounced all 'good,' and 'loveth all that He hath made.' + +Leaving the 'men of the senses' in their Circean sleep, we proceed to +question the 'men of the schools' with regard to their conception of +art, their definition of the Beautiful. Erudite as they may be, their +response to our question is scarcely more satisfactory. The Beautiful, +in their estimation, is but the realization of _known rules_, fixed and +sanctioned by long usage. Such men are the connoisseurs in art, the +students of manuals, who are familiar with all the acknowledged _chefs +d'oeuvre_, and all the possible resources of art; they have traced for +genius itself the path in which it must walk, and will accept none as +true artists who wander from it. They are not ashamed to take a poet +such as Shakespeare, to compare his wonderful creations with the rules +they have acquired with so much labor, and, seeking in his living dramas +only the application of the principles with which _they_ are familiar, +scruple not to condemn the immortal works of the greatest of all +uninspired writers. Madame de Stael truly says: 'Those who believe +themselves qualified to pronounce sentence upon the Beautiful, have more +vanity than those who believe they possess genius.' Taste in the fine +arts, like fashion in society, is indeed considered as a proof of +_haut-ton_, a claim to fashionable and personal distinction. +Should a man of the most cultivated mind and soul, venture to pronounce a +judgment upon the character of some great architectural work, +without being versed in the terms and technics of scientific +architecture--remark with what profound contempt his opinion on its +effect will be received by the pompous men of the schools! Or, let him +venture to take pleasure in a musical composition not approved by the +musical savants, in which they have detected various crimes against the +laws of harmony, the fixed rules of counter point--and behold the men of +the schools, how they will shrug their classic shoulders in contempt at +his name and besotted ignorance! Or, should he venture to delight in the +original and naive lyrics of some untaught bard of nature, without being +able to justify his admiration by learned citations from Virgil and +Horace, to say nothing of the categories of Aristotle--he is considered +as an ignoramus, who might possibly impose upon those ignorant as +himself, but who should at least have the modesty to yield up at once +his opinion to the conclusive decisions of the great literary pundits! +In vain may he assert that such and such a passage is touching and +noble; in vain, may he say it has appealed to his inmost soul, and +awakened deep and holy emotions, that it has made him a better man;--the +same wise shrug of contempt greets him; he is told 'such effects are +impossible, for the work in question offends a fixed rule!' + +Yet what great diversity of opinion obtains among the very band of +self-constituted elect! How few possess the requisite mastery of the +rules, and what an immense number of the human race would thus be +excluded from the elevating sources of enjoyment to be found in poetry +and the fine arts! Such scholastic critics confound two things to be +distinguished in every work in all branches of art; viz., the _pure +idea_, and the _material form_ through which it is manifested. It is +indeed necessary that the artist should make severe studies, and +thoroughly master the technics of his chosen art, whatever it may be; +for, as means to facilitate the clearest manifestation of his +conceptions, such formulae are of immense importance;--but an erudite +acquaintance with the technics of art is not necessary for the +comprehension of the _idea_, manifested; for the _idea_ itself is ever +within the range of the human intellect, and the soul may always +consider the thought of the soul, when appropriately manifested, _face +to face_. 'Imbibe not your opinions from professional artists,' says +Diderot; 'they always prefer the difficult to the beautiful!' + +Artistic judgment is, indeed, too apt to be satisfied with correct +drawing and harmony of colors; harmony and keeping of plastic forms; +harmony of tones; harmony of thoughts in relation to one another; +without considering that to these necessary harmonies two more, +primarily essential, must be added: harmony of thought with the eternal, +with the divine attributes of truth, infinity, unity, and love; and +harmony of expression with what ought to be--which is indeed to assert +that true Beauty is neither sensuous nor scholastic, but vitally and +essentially moral. True Beauty lingers not in the soft halls of the +Circean senses; it wanders not in the trim paths, beaten walks, or dusty +highways of the schools, though the artist must indeed be familiar with +all the intricacies of their windings, that he may there master the laws +and proportions of the form through which he is to manifest the supernal +essence through our senses to our souls; it dwells above, too high to be +degraded by our low sensualism, too ethereal to lose its sweet freedom +in the logically woven links of our scholastic trammels. 'Ye shall know +the _truth_, and it shall make you free,' is a proposition not only of +moral, but of universal artistic application. + +Disgusted by the idle pretensions and stilted pedantry of the men of the +schools, can we wonder if good and earnest men still refuse to +acknowledge the high worth and dignity of art, which, in accordance with +such definitions, would be nothing but a manifestation and studied +application of the rules and laws of the limited and pedantic human +understanding? To prove art essentially _moral_, in exact correspondence +with the triune being of man addressing itself _through_ his senses, in +accordance with the requisitions of his understanding, _to_ his +soul--and that it is only delightful to the soul created for the +enjoyment of God, in so far as it is successful in manifesting or +suggesting some portion of the Divine attributes--are the chief objects +of the book here offered to the reader. If art were indeed to be +degraded into nothing higher than the exponent or incarnation of the +logical data and rigid formulae of the limited understanding of man, the +writer would be frozen to death in the attempt to plant its chilling +banner. She too would regard it but as a solemn trifling with time and +the fearful responsibilities of eternity. + +Having failed to obtain any elevated or satisfactory definition of Art +and Beauty from the men of the senses, or the men of the schools; as the +supporters of a government founded upon a belief in the virtues of the +people, we turn to them in our despair to ask for deeper insight into +these important subjects. Alas! they are as yet too busy and too +ignorant to formulate for us a definite reply! But from them must come +the sibylline response, for the true artist has no home upon earth save +the heart of humanity! The kingdom of the Beautiful belongs not +exclusively to the luxurious, nor to any aristocracy of the refined and +cultivated, but, like the blue depths of God's heaven arch, spans the +world, everywhere visible, and everywhere beneficent! + +As they may not formulate for us a definite reply, let us place our ears +close to the throbbing heart of the masses, that we may hear what effect +the Beautiful, as manifested in art, has upon the electric pulses. And +now our despair passes forever, for men made in the image of God, when +not degraded by a corrupting materialism, nor lost in the bewildering +mazes of a luxurious sensualism, nor puffed up with the vain conceit of +the limited understanding, and thus holding themselves above all the +high enthusiasm and holy mysteries of art, always seem able to recognize +that which awakens in them noble thoughts or tender feelings; so that +when a poet sings to them of heroism, of liberty, of fraternity, of +justice, of love, of home, of God, if he can succeed in causing their +hearts to throb with generous emotions, they stop not to consult the +critics, they listen only to the voice of their own naive souls, and at +once and with one accord enthusiastically cry: 'Beautiful! beautiful! +how beautiful!' La Bruyere himself says: 'When a poem elevates your +mind, when it inspires you with noble and heroic feeling, it is +altogether useless to seek other rules by which to judge it; it is--it +must be good, and the work of a true artist.' Such is really the +criterion consulted by the people, and on this broad and just base rests +the general correctness of their judgments. + +Uncultured as they may be, is it not, indeed, among the people that we +see the most vivid sympathies with the really great artists, the true +poets? It is among them we most frequently find that glowing enthusiasm +which excites and transports them until they lose all selfish thoughts; +contrasting strongly with the measured calm, the still and prudent +reserve of the elite, the connoisseurs, which an impassioned artist +(Liszt) truly says 'is like the glaces on their own tables.' Let the +artist but strike some of the simple but sublime chords which, the +Creator has tuned to the same harmony in human bosoms, and they will +respond from the heart of the people in an instantaneous thrill of noble +instincts and generous emotions. It is ever with the people that the +artist meets with that profound and _loving_ admiration which so greatly +increases his own powers, and which always leads them to noble acts of +devotion for those who have succeeded in touching the harmonizing chords +vibrating through the mighty bosom of humanity made in the image of God! + +If we would learn something of the effect of art on the soul, and +understand the secrets of its power, we should go to a representation of +one of Shakspeare's tragedies, and mark the attentive crowd silently +contemplating the high scenes which the poet unrolls before them. +Immersed in poverty and suffering as they may themselves be, we will see +that at the words 'glory, honor, liberty, patriotism, love'; at the +sight of the courageous struggle of the just against the unjust; at the +fall of the wicked, the triumph of the innocent,--the furrowed and +rugged faces glow with sympathy, all hearts proclaim the loveliness of +virtue, or are unanimous in the condemnation of vice. Full of just +indignation against the aggressor, of generous sympathy with the +oppressed, shall the palpitating throng stay the quick throbbing of +their hearts to inquire of the men of the senses if they may _admire_, +or of the critics and schoolmen if they may _approve_? Their intuitions +have already decided the question for them. Why do the masses always +accord in their estimation of the just and unjust? why do they always +agree about glory and shame, vice and virtue, courage and cowardice? why +do they always find Beauty in the success of suffering virtue, the +triumph of oppressed innocence, the rescue of the wronged and helpless? +The answer throws its light over the whole world of art: Because God's +justice, even when it condemns themselves, is one of the Divine +attributes for whose enjoyment they were created; because it stands +pledged that whatever may be the disorder visible upon earth, it will +rule in awful majesty over the final ordering of all things. The soul, +urged on by an unconscious yet imperative thirst for the Absolute, +having in vain tried to find its realization in a world furrowed by +vanities and scared by vices, takes its flight to the clime of the +ideal, to find there the growth of eternal realities. The poet builds +ideal worlds in which he strives to find the absolute, adorning them +with all the beauties for which the human heart pines: heroism, +patriotism, devotion, love, take form and find appropriate expression; +for all is wisdom, power, liberty, and harmony in the artistic realms. +Art is a celestial vision which God sends to his exiled children, to +give them news of the invisible world for which they were created, to +soothe their sorrows, to turn their thoughts and affections to their +true centre. Art is the transient realization, the momentary possession +of the desires of the soul! + +There is then a Beauty inaccessible to the senses, above the narrow +limit of technical laws, which a simple and uncorrupted people +intuitively feel and love, for which the masses reserve their most +profound admiration, and which it is unquestionably the province of the +true artist to manifest through whatever medium he may have chosen as +his specific branch of art. The delight felt in the Beautiful arises +from the fact that it manifests or suggests, in a greater or less +degree, some portion of the Divine attributes for whose enjoyment we +were created. Is it not then time that the good and earnest men of our +own broad land should cease to ignore, if not to persecute, art; should +indeed reverently pause to inquire into the resources and capabilities +of the mighty symbolism used and wielded by the fine arts? + + + + +THE VALUE OF THE UNION. + + +I. + +We are engaged in a life-and-death struggle for our national +existence--for the preservation of the Union, for these are synonymous. +To succeed, we need an animating spirit that shall carry us through all +obstacles; that shall smile at repeated defeat; that shall ever buoy us +up with strong hope and confidence in the ultimate success of our +efforts. Such a spirit cannot flow from a simple love of opposition, +excited by the wicked bravado of our opponents; nor from a desire to +prove ourselves the stronger: neither can it flow from the mere wish to +destroy slavery. None of these motives singly, nor all of them combined, +are sufficient to sustain us in this hour of trial, or to carry us clear +through to the desired goal. The only motive which can do this, and +which, in the heart of every loyal man, should be of such large +proportions as immensely to dwarf all lower ones, is one that can flow +only from a clear comprehension of the value of the Union, coupled with +a conviction, arising out of this intelligent valuation, that the Union, +being what it is--containing within itself untold, and yet undeveloped +blessings to ourselves and to the human race at large--is nothing less +than a most precious gift of God; given into our charge, to be ours as +long as we deserve its enjoyment by our individual and national +adherence to truth and right; a conviction also, that our Union, from +the very marked Providential circumstances attending its establishment, +is in no small sense a divine work; and hence, that we may rest in the +sure hope that God will not permit His own work to be destroyed, except +by our refusing to cooeperate with Him in its preservation. + +All our blessings, natural and spiritual, are enjoyed by us only in the +degree of our free and voluntary cooeperation with the intentions of the +Divine Giver. No good thing is forced upon us, and nothing that we ought +to have is withheld if we put forth the power granted us to obtain it. +The atmosphere surrounds us, but the lungs must open and expand to +receive it. The food is before us, but the mouth must open, and the +hands convey it thither, or it is of no service. Light flows from the +sun, but the eye must open to enjoy it. And so with the blessings which +we enjoy in the Union; we must use our active powers to profit by them; +and at this crisis we must not only act to enjoy them, but must strain +every nerve to preserve them. The nation is now on its trial, to be +tested, as to whether it adequately values the divine gift of the Union. +If it does thus value it, it will use diligently and carefully all the +abundant resources which lie around it and within it, like an +atmosphere--wealth, population, energy, intelligence, mechanical +ingenuity, scientific skill, and all the needed _materiel_ of warfare. +It is rich in all this, far more so than the South. All this, Providence +lays at the feet of the nation. It can do no more. The nation, as one +man, must now do _its_ part, or continue to do as it has done; it must +cooeperate, must put forth a determined _will_--a will tenfold more +resolute, more fixed and immovable to preserve the Union, than is that +of its enemies to destroy it. This will cannot exist without a clear, +intellectual appreciation of the worth of the Union; of its value as an +agent, which, if rightly employed, will continue to develop increasing +power to humanize and Christianize men, and to elevate, to broaden, and +intensify human life and happiness more than any form of political +institution that the world has ever witnessed. + +Full of this conviction, we shall then, individually and collectively, +be resolved that this noble continent, stretching three thousand miles +from ocean to ocean, and opened like a new world to man, just at an +epoch when religious and political liberty, starting into life in +Europe, might be transplanted into this virgin soil, where thus far they +have developed into this fair republic--we shall then be resolved that +this broad, rich territory shall be forever devoted + + To man's development--not to his + debasement. + + To liberty and free order--not despotism + and forced order. + + To an ever-advancing civilization--not + to a retrograding barbarism. + + To popular self-government--not to + the rule of a slave-holding oligarchy. + + To religion, education, and morality--not + to irreligion, ignorance, and + licentiousness. + + To educated and dignified labor--not + to brutalized labor under the lash. + + To individual independence and + equal rights--not to individual + subjugation to caste. + + To peace--and not to border wars between + conflicting States. + + To unity, harmony, and national + strength--not to disunity, civil discord, + and subjection to foreign + powers. + +All these blessings on the one hand are guaranteed in the Union, and +only there--all their opposite horrors are involved as inevitably and +certainly in the Southern lunacy, resting on slavery and secession as +its corner stones! Madness most unparalleled! + +We will look now at a singular and beautiful fact--for fact it is, +account for it as we may. It is this: The course of civilization upon +this globe has apparently followed the course of the sun. Sunlight and +warmth travel from east to west. The moral and intellectual illumination +of the nations has travelled the same route. From central or farther +Asia, it goes to Assyria, and successively to Egypt, to Greece--thence +to Italy and Rome--then to western Europe, England, France, Spain. From +thence it leaps the Atlantic. The Bible, church, and school house, with +the Pilgrims and other colonies, scatter the primeval darkness and +savagism from the Atlantic coast. Still 'westward the march of empire +takes its way' to the Alleghanies, to the Mississippi; thence, by +another leap, across two thousand miles of continent, where it sparkles +with a golden lustre on the queenly California, enthroned upon the +far-off Pacific shore (yet by the miraculous telegraph within whispering +distance). There the newest and highest civilization comes face to face +with the oldest on the earth--hoary with ages; greets it in China across +the wide Pacific, and the circle of the globe is joined. + +Now the civilization inaugurated upon our continent, in these United +States, may be said to be, indeed is, the result of all that have +preceded it. It combines somewhat of the elements of all the +civilizations that have been strung along the earth's eastern +semi-circumference, besides others, peculiar to itself. And why should +it not be considered as the bud and opening flower growing out of the +summit of all the past, and for which the long ages have made toilsome +preparation. Long time does it take for stem and leaves to unfold, but +in the end comes the flower, and then the fruit. But here, in this bud +of splendid promise, the American Union, lurks the foul worm of slavery, +threatening to blast the fondest hopes of mankind by destroying this +glorious augury of a mature civilization, where man shall develop into +the full earthly stature of a being created in the divine image. Shall +it be? Not if the North is faithful to God, to mankind, and to itself. + +Let us take courage. The westward-travelling sunbeams have ever to +oppose the western darkness, but they conquer always. So American +civilization, also, has its darkness and barbaric elements to battle +with, but they too, God willing, shall vanish before it. + +Why have we been forced into this desperate, unexpected conflict? One +reason may possibly be, that by it, we may be aroused to a living sense +of the great value of our inheritance, the Union, when threatened with +its loss. 'Blessings brighten as they take their flight.' Benefit's +daily enjoyed, with hardly a care or effort on our part, are not prized +as they should be. When, however, we are threatened with their loss, we +awaken from indifference. A new sense of their value springs up, and a +severe contest for their preservation stamps their true worth indelibly +on the heart. Threaten to cut off the air a man breathes, the food and +drink that sustains him, and you rouse all his energies into new life; +and he now prizes these common but unthought-of blessings as he never +did before. And so it will be one effect of this contest, to arouse us +as a nation to see clearly our vantage ground in the world's progress, +and to stir us up as individuals, to lead higher and truer lives, each +for his own and for his country's sake. And when this Southern insane +wickedness is quelled, and the great American nation can rest and +breathe freely once more, it will then calmly ponder the past, and +survey the future. In the degree of its religion and virtue, and next of +its intelligence and energy, it will, in the course of time, clearly +perceive and wisely inaugurate a new social and industrial life, which +will be as far in advance of the present system of free labor as the +latter is itself in advance of slavery. What that is, cannot here be +stated. It will, however, be but the inevitable result of agencies and +influences now at work, and only interrupted and endangered by this +pro-slavery rebellion. + +With these remarks, we enter upon our topic: 'Why is the Union +priceless?' + + * * * * * + +There are two reasons, among others, why it is so, upon which we shall +dwell at some length. + +The first is involved in the great fact that such is man's nature as +bestowed by the Creator, that only in the society of his fellows can +that nature be developed into all its grandeur, and thus bestow and +receive the utmost amount of happiness. The old adage, 'the more, the +merrier,' might be truly amplified in many ways. When numbers are +engaged in common pursuits, common interests, common views, common +joys--each one zealous, earnest, life-giving and life-receiving--the +happiness of the whole flows in upon each, and multiplies it a +thousandfold. + +Now if we look at history, keeping in mind the fact that the sole end of +the Creator is the happiness of his creatures, and that this happiness +is multiplied in proportion to the number of those who can be brought +into accord and concert of action (and action, too, as diversified as +possible)--looking at history, we say, under the light of this fact, it +would seem as if Providence, in the course of human events, was in the +continual effort, so to speak, to bring mankind into ever closer, more +harmonious, and more multiplied and diverse relations; ever striving to +mass the human race more and more into larger and larger communities; +the different portions of which should still retain all the freedom they +were prepared for, or needed to enjoy, while at the same time, they were +in close but free membership with the common body and its central head. + +We say that this seems to be the aim of Providence; while on the other +hand, there is just as evidently to be seen the working of an opposing +force, viz., human selfishness, human ignorance, individual ambition, +ever seeking its own at the expense of others. A selfish, energetic, +and ignorant spirit of individualism (as distinguished from an +enlightened, large-minded, _social_ individualism, which only becomes +more marked and healthily developed by wide social intercourse), has in +all ages tended to split up society into smaller parts, animated by +mutual rivalry, jealousy, and hostility. When these antagonisms have +been carried to a certain length the evil cures itself, by the rise of a +despotism, which, as the instrument in the hands of Providence, brings +all these clashing communities under a strong government, that binds +them over, as it were, to keep the peace. By this, leisure and +opportunity are given for the cultivation of the arts, the sciences, and +industries, which tend to humanize men, and lessen the restless war +spirit. + +Thus the massing of many petty and warring tribes of barbarians into one +large nation, and under a strong despotic monarchy, without which they +could neither have been brought together nor kept together, is so much +gained for human progress. + +After this has continued for a time, when certain changes, certain +ameliorations have been effected in the intellectual, social, and moral +character of the nation, from the cultivation of the arts of peace, it +is then allowed to be broken up, as the period may have arrived for the +infusion of new elements and agencies of social progress which shall +place men upon a higher plane of national existence. It falls to pieces +through its own corruption and degeneracy, or by the invasion of +stronger neighbors. It is swallowed up by the destroying force, and its +people, its institutions, its ideas, its arts and sciences, its customs, +laws, modes of life, or whatever else it may have elaborated, become +mingled with those of surrounding nations, and a new political and +social structure, formed out of the old and the new elements recombined +anew and useless matter eliminated--stands forth in history; a structure +tending still more than previous conditions to raise men in the scale of +civilization--to bring them into closer relations--to enlarge and +multiply their ideas--to quicken their moral and social impulses--to rub +off the harsh angles of a selfish, narrow-minded individualism, and, in +a word, to advance them yet more toward that degree of virtue and +intelligence which is absolutely indispensable to the union of large +masses of men into a nation, whose political system shall at once unite +the utmost freedom for each individual with the most perfect general +order also. + +For the establishment of such a government we think the world has been +carried through a long educational process; for in such a government, +men will find the greatest earthly happiness, and also the greatest +facilities and inducements to live in such a way as shall secure the +happiness that lies beyond. And we think that the course of events in +history will show that such a method as that described has been pursued +by Providence, gathering men from the isolation and warfare of petty and +independent tribes, into large despotisms, where the lower, rude, and +selfish passions of wild men being held in restraint, some opportunity +is given for peaceful pursuits and the development of a higher range of +mental qualities--breaking these despotisms up again at certain periods, +and massing their constituent elements into larger or differently +constituted governments, with new agencies of progress added, according +as human mental conditions and needs required. + +That those great ancient monarchies, as the Assyrian, Persian, etc., had +this effect, cannot well be doubted. But in the rise and fall of the +great Roman empire, this appears very plainly. How many nations and +small communities--far and near--isolated, independent, and more or less +engaged in wars among themselves or in the constant apprehension of +it--how many, we say, of such communities were gathered under the broad +wings of the Roman eagle! From Spain and England on the west, to the +borders of India on the east--from the Baltic on the north, to the +deserts of Africa on the south--all were brought under the Roman sway; +were brought under a common tranquillity (such as it was), under a +common government, common laws, a common civilization more or less. All +these countries were raised from a lower to a higher condition by their +subjection to Roman domination. How far superior in England was the +Roman civilization, its laws, manners, institutions, to the rude +Anglican and Saxon life! + +Rome thus established a grand humanizing unity over all these different +regions, which otherwise had remained divided, hostile, or isolated from +each other. + +In the next place, through the instrumentality of this Roman unity, +Christianity was established with comparative ease over the greater part +of the then known world. This would perhaps have been very difficult if +not impossible had these regions been occupied by a multitude of +independent, and most likely, warring sovereignties. + +Christianity thus widely planted, and firmly rooted upon this Roman +civilization and by means of it, and this civilization, now perfected as +far as it was capable of being, or standing in the way of further human +progress, the empire fell to pieces, to make room for a new order of +things, in which Christianity, the remains of Roman civilization, and +the peculiar features of northern barbarian life, were the ingredients. +These elements, after numberless combinations, dissolutions, and +reconstructions, have resulted in the civilization of modern Europe. The +progress toward this civilization has everywhere exhibited a constant +tendency to larger and larger national unities--parts coalescing into +wholes, and these into yet larger units. Witness the reduction of the +number of German principalities, from one hundred or more to forty in +the present day--the movement now on foot in Germany for a federal union +among these forty--also the new Italian nationality. These we mention +but incidentally, not intending here to trace the steps of this advance. + +This progress toward unity has also been accompanied with a constant +though slow advance in the principles of religious and political +freedom. + +But now, out of this European civilization, the result itself of the +breaking up of the Roman semi-pagan, semi-Christian empire, and the +multiplied interminglings, changes, and reconstructions of the +Roman, the ecclesiastical, and northern barbarian elements--out +of this European civilization, with its movements toward large +nationalities--its progress toward religious and political freedom, and +toward the acknowledgment and recognition of human rights; the +substitution of constitutional monarchies for absolute, and the creation +of representative bodies from the people as part of the government--out +of all this, there springs as the fruit of all the long turmoil, the +wars, the blood and treasure, the groans and tears, the martyrdoms of +countless human lives, that during these long ages have, apparently in +vain, been offered up in the cause of liberty, of order, of national +peace, unity and freedom, of the right of man to the full and legitimate +use of all his God-given faculties--there springs, we say, as the fruit, +the result of all this suffering, our glorious American republic! our +sacred--yes, our sacred Union! The fairest home that man has ever raised +for man! To lay violent hands on which, should be deemed the blackest, +most unpardonable sacrilege. It is the actualization of a dazzling +vision, that may have often glowed in the imagination of many a patriot +and statesman of olden times--which he may have vainly struggled to +realize in his own age and nation, and died at last, heart-broken, amid +the carnage of civil strife. + +Our republic, we repeat, is the fruit of European struggles. If Europe +had not passed through what she has, the United States would never have +arisen. The principles of religious and political liberty sprang to +birth in Europe, but there they have been of tardy growth, because +surrounded and opposed by habits and institutions of early ages. They +needed transplantation to a new and unoccupied soil, where they could +enjoy the free air and sunshine, and not be overshadowed by anything +else. + +Here then we have our American civilization, formed out of what was good +in European, combined with much else that has had its origin upon our +own shores--the result of free principles allowed _almost_ unobstructed +play. + +Let us survey the many elements of unity which we possess. + +First in large measure, a common origin, viz., from England--that +country of Europe farthest advanced of any other in religion, in +politics, in freedom, and in science and industry. + +Next, a common birth, as it were, in the form of numerous colonies, from +the mother country; planted almost simultaneously, it may be said; +possessed of common charters, which differed but slightly--containing +systems of colonial administration, full of the spirit of popular rights +and representation. + +Next, a common language, a common literature, a common religion, and +common interests, that should bind us together against all foes. + +Lastly, a common territory, washed by the two remote oceans--a +territory, in the present advanced state of science and of improved +modes of travel and of communication, without any material dividing +lines or barriers; but having, on the contrary, an immense river in the +centre, stretching its arms a thousand miles on either side, as if on +purpose to keep the vast region forever one and united. + +Never was the birth of a nation so full of promise--so full of all the +elements of a prosperous growth. If any one event can be said to be, +more than another, under the divine guidance, then, all the +circumstances attending the colonization of these shores and the +formation of this Union, have been most minutely and marvellously +providential. 'Here at last,' we may conceive some superior being to +exclaim, who from his higher sphere has watched with deep sympathy the +weary earth-journey of the human race, 'here at last, after these long +ages of discipline and suffering, has a long desired goal been reached. +Here a portion of the human family, having attained to such a degree of +virtue and intelligence, combined with skill in political arrangements, +and a commensurate knowledge of art, and science, and industrial +pursuits--may be intrusted with liberty proportioned to their moral and +intellectual advancement. Here they shall begin to live unitedly, more +and more in accordance with the divine intentions than man has ever yet +done. Millions on millions shall here be banded together into one vast, +free, yet orderly community, where each individual shall enjoy all the +liberty to which he is entitled by his moral character, and possess all +possible facilities for the full and healthy development of his entire +nature. Here, under the combined influence of true religion, +intelligence, and freedom--and these must go hand in hand--the millions +composing this great nation must become ever more and more united, +prosperous, and happy. + + * * * * * + +This then, is the first reason why the Union is priceless--because in +this Union, Providence appears to have reached an end, a goal, to which +it has long been in the effort to conduct the human race, viz., the +bringing a larger and more rapidly increasing population into a more +free, united, and happy life, one more in accordance with human wants, +and with the measureless divine benevolence, than has ever yet been +brought about in the annals of mankind. + + * * * * * + +We proceed now to consider the second reason why the Union is priceless. + +This reason lies in the _method_ of the organization of this Government. + +What is this plan or method? + +We reply that the immense value of the Union rests also upon the +incontrovertible fact (perhaps not widely suspected, but evident enough +when looked for) that the system of government of these United States, +the mode in which the smaller and larger communities are combined into +the great whole, together with the working of all in concert, _comes the +nearest of any other political structure to the Creator's method of +combining parts into wholes throughout the universe_. + +Wherever we behold a specimen of the divine creative skill, whether in +the mineral, vegetable, animal, or human kingdoms; whether it be a +crystal, a tree, a bird, or beast, a man, or a solar system, in all +these we observe one universal method of grouping, common to all +conditions. This method is that of grouping parts around centres, and +several of such groups around larger centres, upward and onward +indefinitely; while in living beings, according to their complexity, +each individual part, and each individual group of parts with its +centre, _is left free to move within its own sphere, yet at the same +time is harmonized with the movements of its neighbors through the +medium of the common centre_. + +Every such work of the Creator is an _E pluribus unum_, a one out of +many--a unit composed of many diversified parts, exhibiting a marvellous +unity, with an equally wonderful variety. Look at yonder tree, examine +its parts, leaves, twigs, branches, trunk, all endowed with a common +life. Yet each little individual leaf lives and moves freely upon its +centre or twig, which is a common centre for many leaves. Many little +twigs in their turn, each free to move by itself within a certain limit, +are ranged along their common centre, a branch. Many branches cluster +around a large one, and all the largest branches in their turn cluster +around the common trunk, or great centre supporting the whole fabric. +Each leaf and twig and branch contributes its share to the life of the +whole tree, and is in turn supported by the general life and circulating +sap. + +All this is repeated with far greater fulness and complexity in the +living animal, or in the human body. How numerous are the parts +composing a single organ! How many organs go to one system, how many +systems, bony, muscular, fibrous, circulatory, nervous, combine to make +up the entire body! Then again, all the members of the body move, +_within a certain limit_, in perfect independence of all the rest. The +finger can move without the hand, the hand can move without the arm, the +forearm without the upper arm, the entire arm without any other limb; +and yet all the parts of one limb, and all the limbs together, are +harmonized in action by the central brain. + +So also in the solar system. The moons move around the planets; the +planets around the sun; our group of suns around their magnetic axis, +the milky way; yet each of these heavenly bodies rolls freely in its own +orbit. In all these instances we have the great problem solved, of +reconciling liberty with order, liberty of the individual parts with +perfect order in the whole. + +As far then as human governments imitate this divine method of +organization seen in created objects, so far do they solve this problem +in the sphere of political arrangements, making due allowance of course +for the disturbing influence acting in man's own mental constitution, by +reason of his fall from the innocence and holiness in which he was +created. It is just because this divine and universal method has been +unconsciously followed by the good and wise and immortal framers of the +national Constitution, and also because the morality and intelligence of +the people were adapted to this wise political structure, that the +American nation has prospered as it has, and become the envy of the +world. + +Is it asked in what consists this resemblance? We reply that it is in +the grouping of + + Individuals into townships; + + Of the townships into counties; + + Of the counties into States; + + Of the States into the national Union, with a central government. + +The township acts in township affairs through its officers, who +collectively compose its centre, and harmonize the actions of all the +individuals of the township in all matters which concern that individual +township. Through their officers, the people of the township act freely +together within the lawful sphere of the township. The common wants of +the township are attended to by the people through their officers, who +compose the centre around which all township action revolves. + +A number of townships, having common wants, are erected into a county. +The county officers and county court form the harmonizing centre of this +larger organization. + +A number of counties, having common wants, are erected into a State, +with a State government. This is the harmonizing centre, concentrating +the efforts of as many counties, townships, and individuals as may be +requisite to accomplish an object in any portion of the State, or in the +whole of it. At ten days' notice by its Governor, Pennsylvania sent near +one hundred thousand men into the field. Without political organization +this could never have been effected. What a power is here exhibited, and +yet all emanating directly from the people, without coercion of any +kind, beyond respect for their own-made laws! The spectacle is truly +grand. + +Finally, the States altogether have common wants, which only a central, +national government can supply. (Oh the deep wickedness or trebly +intensified insanity of secession! Language fails to express the utter +madness of the rebel leaders: the recklessness of a suicide is nothing +in comparison; for here are eight millions of men intent upon their own +destruction; fighting the North like fiends, because it would rescue +them from themselves, and save both North and South from a common abyss +of ruin!) The national government alone is strong at home and respected +abroad. It alone can concentrate the energies and resources of +thirty-four States, and of thirty-one millions of people, into any one +or many modes of activity which the nation may judge best for its own +interest. It is thus resistless. No single foreign power in the world +nor any probable or possible alliance of foreign powers could hope to +effect anything, with an army of three or four millions of soldiers that +the entire republic could raise and keep in the field. Thus in union is +our strength at home, for it gives the whole power and resources of the +nation to works of common utility and necessity. Such are the +maintenance of the army and navy, the building and support of forts, +lighthouses, and customhouses, collection of the revenue, the keeping +rivers and harbors navigable, the establishment of a general post +office, and its countless ramifying branches, constructing immense +public works, like the Pacific railroad, providing for extensive coast +surveys, and the like. Then in a different department, harmonizing the +action of States by national laws, by the Supreme Court, and by the +national courts in each State, dispensing an even justice throughout the +entire Union, by deciding appeals from State and county courts. Each +State enjoys the benefits of these national functions, with the least +possible cost to itself; and were there no national government, each +State would have to provide itself with all these things, or what +proportion of them it required, at a very heavy outlay of its own more +limited resources, and would be obliged to double, perhaps quadruple its +taxes. Each State requires the means of its own defence; and as they +would all be independent sovereignties, each would be compelled, like +the European nations, to keep its own standing army, and watch its +neighbors closely, and be ready to bristle up on the least sign of +aggression on their part. The soldiers of each standing army would be, +as in Europe, so much power withdrawn from productive industry, kept in +idleness, and supported by those who were left free to labor. Each State +requires a postal system; those on the seaboard require tariffs, a navy, +etc., and in the absence of a national government we can hardly form an +idea of the endless disputes that would ensue from these and a thousand +other sources. For this reason the old federation of the States was an +experience of inexpressible value. It settled forever, in the minds of +all communities who are governed by cool common sense and not mad +passion, the utter impracticability (for efficient cooeperation, and +peaceful union) of a mere league or confederacy among sovereign and +independent States. While the seven years' war of independence lasted, +it managed to hold the States together; but when peace was restored the +evils of the league were so glaring, and the dangers in the future so +imminent, that the good sense of the people saved the young nation in +time, by sheltering it under that broad, strong roof, the present +national Constitution. Thus the individual States legislate and act for +themselves in all that concerns themselves alone. But in that which +concerns themselves in connection and in common with other States, and +where, if each State were absolutely independent, such State action +would come into conflict with the wants or rights of other States, and +also be a great cost to the single State--all such common and general +matters are accomplished with uniformity and harmony by all the States +collectively through the general or central government. + +But further.--This central government itself, like the nation which it +serves, is a compound body; a unit composed of parts, each of which in +its own sphere is independent, yet beyond that sphere is limited by the +functions of the other parts. This government is a _triple_ compound, +and consists of the legislative, the judicial, and the executive +departments. + +The legislative, or Congress, declares the will of the nation. + +The judicial or judging department decides and declares the proper ways +and means, the how, the when, the persons and conditions, according to +which this national will is to be carried out, and--the executive +department is the arm and hand that does the carrying out; that performs +by its proclamations and by its civil and military agents, what the +Congress and judicial departments have willed and constitutionally +decided shall be done. + +Thus is perceived a beautiful analogy between these three departments +acting separately and yet in concert--and the will, the intellect, and +the bodily powers of the individual man. A man's will is very different +and distinct from his intellect or reasoning faculty; and both will and +intellect are widely distinct from the bodily powers. Not only are these +three distinct and totally different elements in man's nature, but only +in the degree that they remain distinct, and that they are duly balanced +against each other, and that they all act in concert--only in this +degree is the life of the individual self-poised, harmonious, and free. + +And precisely the same is true of these three functions of government. +It is essential to a free republican state that these functions should +remain distinct, and administered by different bodies. When they are all +merged into each other, and rested in a single individual or a single +body of individuals, the government is then a despotism. The very +essence of what we understand by despotism, is this massing, this fusing +together of elements that can properly and justly live and act _only_ +when each is at liberty, in freedom to be itself, in order that it may +perform its own, its peculiar and appropriate function, in harmonious +connection with others performing theirs. Despotism is the binding, +compressing, suffocating of individual life; first of the three +functions of government, which should always be kept separate, and next, +as a natural and inevitable consequence, of those who come under that +solidified administration. The nation governed by a despotism must be +moulded after the same pattern; it must necessarily have the variety and +freedom of its many constituent parts destroyed, and be massed and +melted together into a homogeneous and indiscriminate whole; only +permeated in all directions by the channels conveying the will of the +despotic head. + +Thus the province of free government is not to be conceived of as that +of restraining, repressing, punishing. This is only its negative +function. Its positive office is the very opposite, and is truly a most +exalted one. And this is, to remove every barrier to the freest outflow +of human energies. It is to give an open field and the widest scope for +the play of every human faculty consistent with right. Government does +this, by establishing order among multitudes teeming with life and +activity--each seeking, in his own way, the broadest vent for his +God-given energies. These human energies are given to men for the very +purpose that they may flow forth in a thousand modes of activity and +industry, and that, thus, men may mutually impart an exalted happiness +upon each other. These energies are to be repressed only when they are +wrong, when they take a wrong direction, when they conflict with the +welfare of the community. When these energies, these human impulses to +act, are right, when they aim at useful results, then they must have +every facility, every possible channel opened to their outflow. And the +very first and most essential condition of this free outflow of life +among multitudes is, that there be order among them--that there be some +system, some methodical arrangement whereby concert and unity of action +may be effected among this diversified life. Without this order +--without systems or common methods of action in the thousand affairs +which concern every community, it is evident that there must be +_dis_order, confusion, and clashing. The activity of each individual, +and of each class of individuals, will come into collision, and be +repressed by the like activity of others. It is utterly impossible, in a +community where there is no order, no mutually understood arrangement of +relations, duties, and pursuits; in other words, where there is no +government; it is impossible, under such conditions, for individuals, if +even of the best intentions, to live and do as they wish. For many wills +must come into conflict, unless they can be harmonized, unless they have +a mutual understanding and consent among each other that there shall be +common and well-defined methods of procedure, under the countless +circumstances in which men _must_ act together, or not act at all. + +Now, it is the true function of government to establish, these common or +general modes of procedure, termed laws, among masses, and to punish +departures from them. Government is thus the great social harmonizer of +these otherwise necessarily conflicting and mutually interfering human +energies. + +Government cooerdinates, harmonizes, concentrates the efforts of +multitudes. It does this by establishing and maintaining _order_, an +orderly arrangement of human activities--arrangements, methods of +procedure, which are adapted to the wants of the community, and _into_ +which men's activities flow freely and spontaneously, and without +compulsion (except in the case of violators of law), because of their +adaptation to the public wants. + +But now, what constitutes order? What is its essential nature? + +The answer is, that order is the harmonious relation of parts in a +whole; and parts can have no orderly, that is, symmetrical and +harmonious, relation to each other, except through their relation to a +common centre. + +Order is the _sub_ordination of things, of things lower to something +that is higher; and _sub_ordination is the ordination or ordering of +parts _under_ something that is above--something to which the rest must +_con_form, that is, must form themselves or be formed _with_ it, in +harmony with it, if order is to result. + +This something is thus, of course, that which is central--the chief +element in the group; that which is the most prominent feature, and +which gives character to all subordinate parts. + +It is thus clearly evident that the very essence of government, of +order, of harmony, of subordination, is the grouping of individual parts +around centres; of these compound units as larger individuals, around +some higher centre again, and so on, until a limit is prescribed by the +very nature of the thing thus organized into an ascending series of +compounds. + +This method of grouping and organizing parts into wholes, is, as we have +already seen, the divine method; and, of course, being such, as has also +been said, it is seen in every created object--in minerals, plants, +animals, and in the systems of suns and planets. + +It is the method of man's bodily organization, and much more, if +possible, is it the method of his mental organization. Man's mind +consists of powers of affection and thought. His affections, loves, +desires, or whatever they may be termed, all group themselves around +some leading motive, some ruling passion, which is central for a part or +the whole of a lifetime. All minor motives and ends of action are +subordinate, and only subservient as a means to satisfy the central, +dominant passion. They revolve around it, like satellites around their +primary, or like planets around their sun. + +His thoughts, likewise--the method of his intellectual operations, obey +the same law. In every subject which he investigates, he marshals a +multitude of facts around central principles or conclusions. He shuts +them up under a general, chief, leading fact or law. A number of +conclusions, again, are marshalled around one still more general and +comprehensive, and thus he mounts up into the highest and most universal +principles. All the knowledge stored away in his mind is thus organized, +almost without his consciousness, into groups of lower and higher facts +and details, ranged under or around their central principles. + +The closer and more symmetrical is this grouping of particulars and +generals in the intellect, or, rather, the greater the power thus to +arrange them, the more logical and compactly reasoning is that mind. The +looser and less connected is this grouping, the less logical is the +mind; and when the proper connection fails to be made between +particulars and generals, between facts and their principles, or between +parts and their centre, then the mind is in an idiotic or insane +condition. + +Now, man's mental movements, being thus themselves obedient to this +great order-evolving method, then, of course, when he applies his +faculties to investigate the objects and phenomena of the outer world, +he classifies, arranges, and disposes them strictly after the same +method, because he cannot help doing so. The naturalist studies +minerals, plants, animals--and each kingdom, at his bidding, marshals +itself into order before him. Each resolves its otherwise confused +hosts into groups and series of groups, each with its own centre and +leading type. The animal kingdom has its sub-kingdoms, classes, orders, +families, and species. Botanists speak of divisions, classes, orders, +genera, and species, &c., species being the first assemblage of +individuals. + +It is, therefore, seen that, by the very necessity of the case, when men +themselves are to be massed into communities and nations, they come +inevitably under the same universal method of organization. Whether the +government be free, or whether it be despotic, it must, in either case, +be organized, and organized according to this universal method. It must +consist of parts with their centres, compounded into wholes, and of +these compound units formed into still larger ones; until the entire +nation, as a grand whole, revolves upon a central pivot, or national +government. + +But here there presents itself a vast distinction between despotic and +free governments--a distinction which arises out of the different +relations sustained, in these respective modes of administration, +between the government and the people--between the centre and the +subordinate parts. What is this difference? + +If we look around through nature, we shall find that all organized +beings, that is, beings composed of different parts or organs, all +aiding, in their several ways, to the performance of a common function, +or a number of harmonized functions--in such an organized structure, +whether it be a plant, an animal, the human body, or even the globe +itself, we shall find two reciprocal movements--one from the centre, +outward, and another from without, inward, or toward the centre; and +further, that the integrity of the life of the individual depends upon +the harmonious relation or balance between these two opposite movements. + +The individual man, for instance, is a centre of active energies that +are ever radiating from himself toward men and things around him; and he +receives from them, in return, countless impressions and various +materials for supporting his own life. What is thus true of the man +himself, is also true of the organs and systems of organs of which his +body is composed. The nervous system exhibits nerves with double +strands; one set (the motor fibres) conveying nervous force from the +centre as motor power to the limbs; the other, conveying sensations _to_ +the centre, from without. + +The heart, again, the centre of the circulating system, sends forth its +crimson tide to the farthest circumference, and receives it back as +venous blood--to send it forth afresh when purified in the lungs. + +The plant has its ascending and descending sap; it drinks in the air and +sunshine, and gives these forth again in fragrance and fruit. The very +globe receives its life from the sun--and radiates back, forces into +space. + +Human governments--human political and social organizations, are no +exceptions to this general law. Every government, even the most +despotic, while it rules a nation with a rod of iron, depends for its +life upon the people whom it oppresses. While the central head radiates +its despotic will through its pliant subordinates, down through all +ranks and classes of the community, it receives from them the means of +its own preservation. + +A free government likewise radiates authority from the central head, and +also depends for its life on the people whom it governs. What is the +point of difference between them? + +It is simply this: + +There are two elements of power in a nation. + +One is _moral_, viz., the free-will and consent of the people. + +The other is _physical_, viz., military service, and revenue from +taxation. + +The free consent of the people is the _soul_ of the national strength. + +The treasure and the armies which they furnish, constitute the _body_. + +For the highest efficiency, soul and body must act as one, whether in +the individual or in the collective man. They must not be separated. +Hence the perfect right of men who would be free to refuse to be taxed +by government without being represented--without having a voice in its +management. The _material_ support must not be given without the +_moral_--that is one form of slavery. + +But of these two elements of national strength, a despotism, a +government of force, possesses and commands only the physical or +material, viz., military service and revenue. It controls only the +_body_ of the national powers. Not resting upon the broad basis of the +free choice and consent of the people, it is like a master who can force +the body of another to do his bidding, while the spirit is in concealed +rebellion. Such a government, in proportion as it severs this national +soul from the body, is weak through constant liability to overthrow, +from any chance failure of its material props. + +A free government, on the other hand, possesses both the elements of +strength. It rests upon the free will and affection of the people, as +well as upon the abundant material support which they must ever yield to +a government of their own creation, and which exists solely for their +own use and benefit. Such a government is capable and strong in exact +proportion to the virtue and intelligence of the masses from whom it +emanates. + +Thus it is seen that a despotism differs from a free government as to +the reciprocal action that takes place between the people and the +government. In a despotism, all authority flows only in one direction, +viz., from the central head down to the different ranks of subordinate +officers, and through these numerous channels it reaches all classes of +the people. But there is no returning stream of authority from the +people to the government, from the parts to the centre. The only return +flow is that of military service and revenue. + +But a free government returns to the people all that it receives from +them. From the masses there converges, through a thousand channels, to +the central government, both the elements of national strength, viz., +authority to act, and the means of carrying out this authority, that is, +money and military service--the body, of which the popular will and +authority is the soul. The people declare their will that such and such +individuals shall be clothed with, and represent their united power, and +act for them in this representative capacity. The persons thus chosen, +and who constitute the government or central head, with its subordinate +agencies, declare from this central position of authority with which +they have been invested by the people, that such and such things are +necessary for the welfare and orderly activity of the people, and in the +name, and with the cooeperation of the people, they _will_ to carry these +measures out. + +Thus life, energy, power, from the people, flow from all points to the +government, to the centre; and from the government it flows back again +to the people as _order_, as the force that arranges, methodizes, +harmonizes, and regulates the outflow of the popular energies in all the +departments of human activity. It clears the channels of national +industry of all obstacles. By its legislative, judicial, and executive +functions, it establishes, on the one hand, common methods of action +among multitudes having common interests and aims, and thus obviates +clashing and confusion; and, on the other, it punishes those who would +interfere with and obstruct or destroy this order. + +The government is the concentrated will and intelligence of the people, +directed to the wise guidance of the national life--directed to the +harmonizing of the diversified activity and industry of the nation, to +the opening of all possible channels for that activity, and to the +removal of everything that would obstruct and counteract the nation's +utmost development and progress. + +In this way, a free government exhibits, as far as human imperfection +admits, the union of the two great principles, _liberty_ and _order_. +The people are free to think, talk, write, and act as they see fit; but +since there can be no liberty, but only license, or lawlessness, without +order--without beneficent methods, symmetrical forms and arrangements, +_in which_ that liberty can be enjoyed by individuals and communities, +without conflicting with other individuals and communities, parts of the +same free whole--therefore government is created by the people to +prescribe and maintain this order, essential to this common liberty; an +order which is the _form_, or _forms_, under which both individuals and +communities shall act, singly or in concert, in the countless relations +in which the members of the same community or nation come into contact +with each other. + +Now, in the United States, the chart of this orderly and symmetrical +network of political arrangements for the free movement among each other +of the individuals in the township, of the townships in the county, of +the counties in the State, and of the States in the Union--and within +the protecting lines of which political arrangements, the people are +enabled to pursue their industrial avocations without mutual +interference and collision, and to attend in peace and security to all +the employments that tend to elevate, refine, and freely develop the +individual man (for government is only and solely a _means_ to this +great end)--the chart, we say, of all these orderly arrangements, is our +immortal national Constitution, together with the State constitutions +that cluster around it, as their centre, axis, and support. + +Through each State constitution, the national and central one sends down +an iron arm, clasping them all by a firm bond to itself and to each +other. And in each, the grasp of this arm is riveted and double riveted, +above and below, by these two comprehensive, unmistakable articles, +without which the others had else been valueless; and for which the +framers of this great instrument are entitled to our lasting gratitude +and admiration. + +The articles are these, viz.: Art. 6th, sec. 2d: 'This Constitution, and +the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof +... _shall be the supreme law of the land_ ... anything in the +constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.' + +And art. 4th, sec. 4th: 'The United States shall _guarantee_ to every +State in the Union a _republican_ form of government, and shall protect +each of them against invasion....' + +The first of these admits of no separation or secession. The second +preserves everywhere that form of government under which alone the +fullest political freedom can be enjoyed. In fighting, then, for the +Constitution, we fight for an undivided Union on the one hand, and, on +the other, for a Union that guarantees to each member of it that form of +government which secures the greatest liberty to those who live under +it. May we not, we say again, rest in an all but certain hope that the +Divine Being will see fit to preserve His own work? For such, though +accomplished through human agency, we feel constrained to believe, have +been this Union and its remarkable constitution. + +We have regarded the Union as the culmination of a long series of +endeavors, so to call them, on the part of Providence, to bring men from +a social condition characterized by the multiplicity, diversity, +separation, antagonism, and hostility of independent, warring, petty +states, into that larger, higher form of political and social life, that +shall combine in itself the three conditions of unity--variety in unity, +and of the utmost liberty with order--as the soul and life of the +political body. And that it has also been the aim of Providence, in the +formation of this Union, to accomplish the above object on as large a +scale as possible, in the present moral and intellectual condition of +the race. + +Can we be far wrong in such a view? Think of our republic embracing in +its wide extent, one, two, three, or more hundred millions of human +beings, all in political union, enjoying the largest liberty possible in +the present life, as well as the ever-increasing influence and light of +religion, science, and education, giving augmented power to preserve and +rightly use that liberty. Extent of territory in the present age, is no +bar to the union of very distant regions. When the telegraph, that +modern miracle, brings the shores of the Pacific within three hours' +time of the Atlantic seaboard--when railroads contract States into +counties, and counties into the dimensions of an average farm, as to the +time taken to traverse them--when _spaces_ are thus brought into the +closest union, it is but the counterpart and prophecy of the close moral +and industrial union of the people who inhabit the spaces. When slavery, +that relic of barbarism, that demon of darkness and discord, is +destroyed, we can conceive of nothing that shall possess like power to +sunder one section of the Union from another--of nothing that shall not +be within the power of the people to settle by rational discussion or +amicable arbitration. No! Slavery once destroyed, an unimagined Future +dawns upon the republic. The Southern rebellion, and the _utterly +unavoidable_ civil war thence arising--as these are the two +instrumentalities by which slavery will be cut clean away from the +vitals of the nation, and the Union left untrammelled, to follow its +great destiny--these twin events, we say, will, in after ages, be looked +back upon as blessings in disguise--as the knife of the surgeon, that +gives the patient a new lease of a long, prosperous, and happy life. + + * * * * * + +We have contemplated the Union, and seen something of its matchless +symmetry, beauty, and indefinite capabilities, ever unfolding, to +promote human welfare, through its unity with variety, its liberty with +order, its freedom of action of each part in its own sphere, coexisting +with the harmonious working of all together as one grand whole--all of +which arises, as was said, from the unconscious modelling (on the part +of its authors) of our political structure upon the Divine and universal +plan of organization in mineral, in plant, in animal, in the planetary +systems, and, above all, in man himself, body and mind. + +We saw that the method of this organization was the grouping of +individual parts into wholes around a centre; of many such compound +units around a yet higher centre, and so on, indefinitely, onward and +upward. That by such an organization, individual freedom was secured to +each part, within a certain limit, wide enough for all its wants, and +yet perfectly subordinated to the freedom and order of all the parts +collectively, revolving or acting freely around the common centre and +head. We saw that in the Divine creations--in all the objects of the +three kingdoms of nature, the two great principles of liberty and order +were thus perfectly reconciled and harmonized (true _order_ being only +the _form_ under which true _liberty_ appears, or can appear); and, +further, that in proportion as human affairs and institutions obey the +same law, or, rather, in proportion as men individually and collectively +advance in virtue and intelligence, do they unconsciously, and more or +less spontaneously, come into this Divine order, both in the regulation +of personal motive and conduct, and in outward political and social +matters. + +Hence, as has already been stated, the near approach to this method in +the political organization of the United States was the result of an +amount of moral and intellectual culture, first in the colonies, and +afterward in the contrivers and adopters of our political framework, +without which it could never have been formed; and in the degree that +this mental condition is maintained and advanced yet more and more, will +the citizens of the Union apply the same method of organization to the +less general affairs of industrial and social life. Now, all this is not +fancy; human progress in the direction indicated, can be scientifically +demonstrated. + + + + +WAR SONG:--EARTH'S LAST BATTLE. + +Dedicated To + +THE SOLDIERS OF THE UNION. + + + Up with the Flag of Hope! + Let the winds waft her + On through the depths of space + Faster and faster! + Up, brave and sturdy men! + Down with the craven! + He who but falters now, + Fling to the raven! + + CHORUS: On while the blood is hot--on to the battle! + Flash blade and trumpet sound! let the shot rattle! + + Come from your homes of love + Wilder and faster! + Hail balls and sabres flash! + Wrong shall not master! + Strike to the throbbing heart + Brother or stranger! + Traitors would murder hope! + Freedom's in danger! + + CHORUS: On for the rights of man--just is the battle! + Flesh deep the naked blade! let the shot rattle! + + Men of the rugged North, + Dastards they deem you! + Wash out the lie in blood, + As it beseems you! + Glare in the Southern eye + Freedom, defiance! + Traitors with death and hell + Seal their alliance! + + CHORUS: On--shed your heart's best blood! glorious the battle! + Freedom is born while death peals his shrill rattle! + + Down with, the rattlesnake! + Armed heel upon it! + Rive the palmetto tree-- + Cursed fruit grows on it! + Up with the Flag of Light! + Let the old glory + Flash down the newer stars + Rising in story! + + CHORUS: On--manhood's hot blood burns! God calls to battle! + Flash, blades, o'er crimson pools! let the shot rattle! + + Death shadows happy homes; + Faster and faster + Woe, sorrow, anguish throng; + Blood dyes disaster! + Men doubt their fellow men: + Hate and distraction + Curse many a council hall; + Traitors lead faction! + + CHORUS: Cease this infernal strife! rush into battle! + Blast not all human hope with your cursed prattle! + + God! the poor slave yet cowers! + Call off the bloodhounds! + Men, can ye rest in peace + While the cursed lash sounds? + Woman's shrill shrieks and wails + Quick conquest urges; + Bleeding and scourged and wronged, + Wild her heart surges! + + CHORUS: Wives, mothers, maidens call! God forces battle! + Stay the oppressor's hand though the shot rattle! + + Hark! it is Mercy calls! + Will ye surrender + Freedom's last hope on earth? + No,--rather tender + Heart's blood and life's life + 'Neath our Flag's glory: + Scattered its heaven stars, + Dark human story! + + CHORUS: Strike, for the blow is love! Despots force battle! + 'Good will to men,' our cry, wings the shot's rattle! + + Up from the cotton fields, + Swamps and plantations, + Drinking new life from you, + Swarms the dusk nation. + Send them not back to pain! + Strike and release them! + Hate not, but succor men; + Sorrow would cease then! + + CHORUS: On--let God's people go! Mercy is battle! + Freedom is love and peace,--let the shot rattle! + + Oh, that ye knew your might, + Knew your high station! + God has appointed you + Guardian of nations! + Teach tyrants o'er the world, + Bondage is over; + Bid them lay down the lash, + Welcome their brothers! + + CHORUS: Pour oil in every wound, when done the battle! + Man now must stand redeemed though the shot rattle! + + On--till our clustering stars + No slave float over, + Man joins in harmony, + Helper and lover! + Ransom the chained and pained, + Nations and stations! + On--till our Flag of Love + Floats o'er creation! + + CHORUS: Strike, till mankind is free, mute the chains rattle! + Fight till love conquers strife--Freedom's last battle! + + Yes, we shall stand again + Brother with brother, + Strong to quell wrong and crime, + All the world over! + Heart pressed to heart once more, + Nought could resist us, + Earth cease to writhe in pain, + Millions assist us! + + CHORUS: On till the world is free through the shot's rattle! + When love shall conquer hate, fought earth's last battle! + + + + +MIRIAM'S TESTIMONY. + + +I do not know why it was that I studied the characters of Miriam and +Annie so closely at Madame Orleans' school, for I had known them both +from early childhood; we were of the same age, and had lived in the same +village, and attended the same schools. I suppose it was partly owing to +the fact of my having arrived at a more thoughtful age, or it may be +that their peculiarities of disposition exhibited themselves more +strongly among strangers. They were neither of them surface characters. +Miriam was too reserved, and Annie too artful to be easily understood. +But no one who had once known Miriam could, ever forget her. Her parents +called her 'a peculiar child;' among her friends the old people called +her 'queer,' and the young ones 'cracked,' She was not pretty, but +everybody pronounced her a fine-looking girl. Her eyes were the only +peculiarity in her face. They were of a rich, dark-gray color, small, +and deeply set; but at times--her 'inspired times,' as Annie called +them--they would dilate and expand, until they became large and +luminous. At such times she would relate with distinctness, and often +with minuteness, events which were transpiring in another house, and +sometimes in another part of the world. + +It was seldom that we had an opportunity of testing the truth of these +'visions,' but when we did we found them exact in every particular. + +At other times her mind took a wider range, and she would see into the +future. When we were children, I remember the awe with which we used to +listen to 'Miriam the prophetess,' as we called her, and the wonder with +which we remarked that her prophecies invariably were fulfilled. But, as +I grew older, my awe and wonder diminished in proportion, and, being of +a very practical turn of mind myself, and very skeptical of spiritual +agencies, mesmerism, and clairvoyance, and indeed of anything out of the +ordinary course of events, I put no faith whatever in any of Miriam's +visions and prophecies; especially as I noticed they only occurred when +she was sick, or suffering under depression of spirits. Annie either did +believe, or professed to believe, every word she said. As Miriam grew +into womanhood it was only to Annie and me that she confided her strange +visions, although she well knew I did not believe in their reality. We +were the only ones who never laughed at her, and she was very sensitive +on the subject. + +Annie was so beautiful that it was a delight to look at her lovely face, +listen to her musical voice, and watch her graceful motions. She fully +appreciated her own charms, and had a way of making others appreciate +them also. She had many more friends than Miriam, for who could resist +the charm of her face and manner? + +She had become quite accomplished, for she possessed a good deal of +talent, but was worldly minded, vain, and selfish. It may be matter of +surprise that such a girl should have been my intimate friend, and still +stranger that she should have been the friend of Miriam; but she was +lively and agreeable, and when we were children together we did not care +to analyze her character, and when we knew her thoroughly we still loved +her--from habit, I suppose. At all events, whatever were the sympathies +which bound us together, we continued firm friends until we were +eighteen, when we left Madame Orleans' school, where we had resided for +four years. + +At that time Annie returned to our native village, while Miriam and I +went to a Southern city, intending to spend the winter with her uncle's +family; but we liked our new home so much that we prolonged our visit +two years. After we had been there a few months, by some chance, which I +have now forgotten, Henry Ackermann came to the city where we resided. +He was a few years older than we, but had been one of our playmates in +childhood. His parents had removed from our native village, and gone to +California some years before, when the gold fever was at its height, +since which time we had heard little about them, and Henry had nearly +faded out of our recollections, until now he suddenly appeared, destined +to be the controlling fate in the life of one of us, for Miriam and he +soon grew to love one another; though what affinity there was between +their natures I never could imagine. But he told me that he loved her, +and she told me that she was very happy, and I was bound to believe them +both, and thought that on the whole they would be a better-matched +couple than most of those I saw about me. + +It is needless to say much of their courtship. Their engagement was not +made public, therefore it was not necessary to make a parade of their +affection before indifferent acquaintance, Miriam's love, like that of +all proud, reserved natures, was intense. Ackermann's attentions to her +were graceful and delicate, and he ever manifested toward her in his +whole manner that silent devotion, unobtrusive and indescribable, which +is so gratifying to woman. It was evident that he understood her +thoroughly: whether he appreciated her as thoroughly was another matter, +about which I had my doubts. + +It was true that strange rumors had floated from California to our +distant little city in regard to Ackermann. Evil rumors they were--they +could scarcely be called rumors--nobody repeated them, nobody believed +them--and yet they were whispered into the ear so stealthily that it +seemed as if they were breathed by the very air which surrounded +Ackermann. I paid no heed to them. Miriam heard them, did not care for +them--why should I? + +Months passed away--happily to the lovers--pleasantly to me. +Circumstances then compelled Ackermann to return to our village, while +Miriam felt it to be her duty to remain where she was; but she expected +to follow him in a few months at latest. He carried with him a letter of +introduction to Annie, in which Miriam told her of her engagement to the +bearer, and requested Annie to be his friend for her sake. This was soon +answered by a characteristic letter from Annie congratulating Miriam on +her choice, pronouncing Ackermann the most delightful of men, etc. + +During the winter which followed, Miriam seemed quietly happy and always +pleasant and cheerful. Henry's letters were frequent, and so were +Annie's. I did not see the former, but they appeared to afford a great +deal of satisfaction to Miriam. Annie's letters were as lively and merry +as herself, and contained frequent hints that the devoted attentions of +a certain Mr. Etheridge--a wealthy, middle-aged suitor--were not +entirely disagreeable to her; that she thought she should like right +well to be mistress of his fine mansion; with much more nonsense of the +same kind. + +I should have mentioned that Miriam had never told her lover of the +peculiar gifts of prophecy and second sight which she had, or fancied +that she had. She was too happy at the time he was with her to be +visited by her 'visions.' I thought they had ceased altogether, and I +think Miriam believed they had, and was happy to be done with them +forever. + +I was quite surprised then to see her walk into my room one day in a +hurried manner, with a face ghastly pale, and eyes unusually distended, +and gazing at me with a wild, fixed stare. She trembled exceedingly, +and tried to speak, but the words refused to come at her bidding. I was +much alarmed, and, remembering there was a glass of wine in the closet, +I brought it to her, but she motioned it away. I opened the window, and +the rush of cold air revived her. She sat down by it, and after a little +time, she said: + +'Hester, do you remember the little sitting room of Annie's, at the foot +of the back stairs, with windows opening into the garden?' + +'Yes, I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?' + +'She has had it newly furnished, and very elegantly.' + +'How do you know?' + +'Because I was there this afternoon; spent some time in it.' + +'You! in Annie's room!' + +_I_ was there, in Annie's room--that is, the only part of me that is +worth anything; my body remained here, in my own room, I suppose.' + +I saw at once that the old spell was on her again, and, as I made it a +point to fall in with her humor on such occasions, I said: + +'Well, what did you see there?' + +'I saw an open piano, and books and music scattered around. There were a +great many flowers in the room. A bright fire was in the grate, and +Pompey--the house dog--was stretched on a rug before it. A large +easy-chair, covered with blue damask, stood near the fireplace. Henry +Ackermann was seated in it. Annie was kneeling before him. He talked to +her while he stroked her hair. I heard every word that he said.' + +Here she paused. I was getting quite excited with her narrative, but I +spoke as calmly as I could: + +'You have only fancied these things, Miriam. You are ill.' + +'The _material_ part of my nature may be ill. I do not know. But the +_immaterial_ is sound and healthy. It sometimes leaves its grosser +companion, and makes discoveries for itself. This is not the first time +it has happened, as you well know. I have been particular in my +description, in order that I might convince you that I have actually +been there. You know that the description I have given is entirely +different from the appearance of Annie's room in former times. I have +never heard that she had newly furnished it. Write to her, and ask her +to describe her room to you, and you will find that I have seen all that +I have told you.' + +Finding her so calm, and so willing to reason on what she had seen, I +ventured to ask: + +'And what did Ackermann say to her?' + +'Only a very little thing,' said she, with bitter emphasis. 'That he +loved her--and admired me; she stirred the depths of his heart--I +excited his intellect; she was his darling--I, his sphinx.' + +'Are you sure it is not all a dream?' + +'I have not closed my eyes to-day.' + +I did not know what to say to her. I still thought what she had related +was but a delusion, but to her it was a reality, and I knew her outward +calmness was but the expression of intense excitement of mind. Thinking +I might divert her mind, I read to her a letter I had received but a few +minutes before. It was from my sister, who had just returned from +Europe, with her husband and children; and had taken a house in our +native village. She wished me to come to her at once. At any other time +Miriam would have manifested the greatest interest in this +communication. It had been a source of regret to her that I was +separated from this sister, who was the only near relative I had. Now +she sat, perfectly unmoved, gazing out into the sunshine as if it +bewildered her. I did not know whether she had heard a word I said. I +laid down the letter, and took up a book, glancing at her occasionally. +I continued reading for about two hours, while she sat there as if +turned to stone. Then she turned to me and said: + +'Hester, would you not like to see your sister very much?' + +'Very much.' + +'Then let us return home at once.' + +'I am very willing.' + +'Mr. Sydenham leaves here to-morrow night for New York. Let us go with +him.' + +I hesitated. It seemed such a hasty departure from the friends who had +been so kind to us, but a glance at the pale, eager face of Miriam +decided me. I consented. + +The nest day brought a letter from Ackermann. Miriam showed it to me. It +was the only letter of his I was ever permitted to read. It was a good +letter--very lover-like, but earnest and manly. It seemed to me the +truth of the writer was palpable in every line. + +'Of course this has removed all your doubts,' I said, as I returned the +letter to Miriam. + +'It has not shaken my faith in the evidence of the finest of my senses,' +was her only reply. + +Since we had left our pretty little village, a railroad track had been +laid through, it. The depot was near Annie's house. As we had apprised +no one of our arrival, we found ourselves alone on the platform when we +stepped out of the cars. + +'Let us call and see Annie,' said Miriam. + +'Before you visit your father and mother?' said I, surprised. + +'This is the hour Ackermann usually visits her.' + +'I will go with you.' + +It was but a few minutes' walk. We felt perfectly at home there. We +opened the front door, and walked in without ceremony. No one was in the +front rooms. We passed quickly through them into the little room at the +foot of the back stairs. I noticed the furniture as soon as I entered. +It was new, and was arranged pretty much as Miriam had described it. +Ackermann and Annie stood by the window looking into the garden. I am +not sure, but I think he was holding her hand. They turned as we +entered, and, for a few minutes, were speechless with amazement. Annie +was the first to recover herself. + +'What a delightful surprise!' she exclaimed, running toward us; but she +stopped before she was half across the room. Something in Miriam's +manner arrested her. Ackermann's perceptions were quicker. He saw at one +glance that Miriam knew all, and, though very much agitated, he stood, +looking defiantly at her. She took no notice of Annie, but said to +Ackermann: + +'I trusted you. You have deceived me. I believed in your love so fully +that I would have been yours faithfully until death. You lightly threw +mine away. I thought your words of love so sacred that I kept them hid +in my heart from the sight of the most faithful friends. You have made +mine the subjects of jest. But I do not come here to reproach you. +Henceforth you are nothing to me. I came to demand my ring.' + +'I have no ring of yours,' said he, with calm decision. 'This ring that +I wear you put upon my finger, and told me not to part with it under +_any_ circumstances. You charged me to wear it until death. It is mine. +I will not part with it, even to you.' + +Miriam looked at him incredulously for a moment. Her fortitude began to +give way. + +'I do not know,' she said slowly, 'why you wish to keep that ring. You +can never look at it without thinking of me, and of the words of love I +have spoken to you. It is hateful to me to think that you have anything +to remind you of the past. For this reason I want the ring. I will not +wear it. I will not keep it. I will destroy it utterly. But by the +memory of my past trust, I beseech you to give me that ring.' + +A sneer curled the lip of Ackermann. + +'I will not give it to you!' he said, decidedly. + +Miriam did not look at him now, but at the ring. It glowed on his hand +like a flame; for it was set with a cluster of diamonds. + +'It will ruin you,' she said, raising her eyes slowly, and fixing them +on his face. 'It will be your curse.' + +She turned and left the room. Ackermann looked displeased, and annoyed. +Annie was pale and frightened. I did not know whether to follow Miriam, +or remain to hear Annie's explanations. I finally decided to do neither, +and, walking out of the open window into the garden, I took another +route to my sister's. + +They say that no nature is thoroughly evil, that every man has some +redeeming qualities. This is probably true, and I suppose Ackermann had +his virtues, but I was never able to discover any. The only sides of his +character presented to my observation were evil, and wholly evil. He +loved Annie, it is true, but it was an unnatural, selfish, exacting +love. Such a love is a curse to any woman, and it was doubly so to +Annie, who loved him too entirely to see any faults in him, and was too +weak minded to resist his merciless exactions. So thoroughly selfish was +he that, notwithstanding his love for Annie, he would have married +Miriam if she had not so peremptorily broken the engagement. Miriam was +very wealthy, while Annie was comparatively poor. Ackermann himself was +worth nothing. Why he persisted in keeping the ring I never knew, unless +it was that Miriam's proud contempt and indifference roused his +malignant temper to oppose her in the only way which lay in his power. +He possessed the art of making himself agreeable, and had a very fair +seeming, so that when his engagement to Annie was made public, she was +warmly congratulated. His former engagement to Miriam was unknown, even +to her own parents. + +I saw but little of Ackermann and Annie, and never met them but in +public. His wickedness and her weakness made them both contemptible in +my eyes. And my mind was occupied in other matters. Miriam resolved to +make the tour of Europe, and I was to accompany her--for she would take +no denial. For many weeks we were busied in preparations for our +departure; Miriam had settled all her affairs satisfactorily, and we +were thinking of making the last farewells, when she was taken ill. The +doctors said it was an organic disease of the heart. This was an +hereditary disease in the family, but Miriam up to the time of her +acquaintance with Ackermann had been entirely free from any symptom of +it, or of any particular disease whatever. Whether this sudden +exhibition of it was the effect of natural causes, or was produced by +mortified love and pride, I leave the reader to conclude. + +I was her constant attendant during her sickness. She could scarcely +bear me out of her sight. She had never spoken to me of Ackermann since +the interview in Annie's room. Now she seemed to take delight in talking +about him, and I was amazed at the intense hatred with which she +regarded him. She was gentle and patient under her sufferings, and +tender and loving at all times, except when speaking of him. Then all +the bad passions of her nature were aroused. It was in vain that I +represented to her that at such a time she should endeavor to be at +peace with all the world, and forgive as she hoped to be forgiven. + +'If I have sinned against my God, as Henry Ackermann has sinned against +me, I neither expect or wish to be forgiven,'--was the only reply she +would make to such arguments. She had not the slightest feeling of ill +will against Annie; she spoke of her as a misguided, loving girl; but +often repeated the assertion that Ackermann and Annie would never be +married. + +The physicians were inclined to think that Miriam would recover from +this attack, but she knew, she said, that she must die, and she exacted +a promise from me that I would watch over her body until it was +consigned to the grave, imploring me not to let indifferent people be +with her after death. I readily gave the promise, little knowing what a +fearful obligation I was taking upon myself. + +One morning I left Miriam's bedside, and walked through the village in +order to get some exercise, and breathe the fresh air. I remember the +day well. It was in the latter part of May--a warm, sweet, sunny day, +with enough of chilliness in the air to give a zest to walking. I was +surprised at the ripeness and luxuriance of the foliage, so early for a +New England spring; but I was still more surprised at the aspect of our +usually silent village. The streets were full of men hurrying to and +fro, and groups of men, and women, too, stood at some of the corners. To +my utter amazement I learned that Annie had disappeared mysteriously the +night before. She had left home alone early in the evening, saying she +was going to the river, and had not returned. Search was made for her +during the night in all the houses of the village; that morning the +river had been dragged; but not the slightest trace of Annie was +anywhere to be found. Of course everybody was in a state of intense +excitement. Ackermann was represented to me as almost distracted with +grief, but he had been active in conducting the search for her. + +I thought it best to tell this to Miriam as soon as I returned. It +produced a strange effect upon her. It gave her a most intense desire +for life. + +'I do not desire life for myself,' said she to me, the next day, 'nor +for any happiness it could confer upon me, for it has no gift that I +value; but I wish to live that I may show Ackermann to the world, as he +is, false, and cruel, and revengeful. I feel that I would have the power +to do it, had I but health and strength; but what can a dead body do? +Can the soul return to it again? Where does the soul go?' + +I made no reply to this. I had gone over this ground very often with +Miriam. It was not strange that one who had had such remarkable mental +experiences should be a believer in spiritual agencies. She was also a +firm believer in all the doctrines of the Bible, but she always +maintained that this sacred book nowhere taught that the soul, on its +release from the body, went directly to heaven. She argued that it was +_impossible_ for it to go there immediately. Then where did it go? These +ideas disposed her to a mystical kind of reading, with which I did not +sympathize, and in which I never indulged. + +I stood at the window some time, looking out, but seeing nothing, for I +was thinking how strange it was that two girls so entirely opposite as +Miriam and Annie should love the same man, and he so different from +both. I was aroused by Miriam's voice hurriedly calling me. I hastened +to her side. Never shall I forget her eyes as she fixed them upon me. +The pupils were dilated, and intensely black, while they shone so +brilliantly that it seemed as if a fire were burning within them. She +spoke eagerly: + +'Promise me once more, Hester, that you will not leave my body, after +the soul has left it, until it is laid in the grave, and that you will +not let idle curiosity come and gaze at it.' + +I readily gave her this promise, thinking it was very little to do for a +dying friend. The unnatural expression faded from her eyes. She seemed +entirely satisfied. + +It was late in the afternoon that I was aroused from a sound sleep by +the intelligence that Miriam was dead. She died while asleep, without a +struggle, or a groan. I called in Mrs. Grove, the housekeeper, who had +been devotedly attached to Miriam, and we dressed her in a white robe, +and scattered fragrant flowers around her, to take away, if possible, +the horror and ghastliness of death. She did not look at all like the +Miriam I had known and loved. Her features were sharp and pinched, and +her face looked careworn, and _anxious_--if anything so lifeless can be +said to have expression. + +No one came into the room that evening but the family, and they retired +early, and left me alone with the dead. Mrs. Grove sat up all night in +the dining room, which was separated from Miriam's room by a narrow +entry. She would have remained with me, but I saw that she was very +nervous and timid, and insisted that she should leave me. I could not +understand her feeling. I felt not the slightest fear of the inanimate +body before me, or of the disembodied spirit. She had been my friend +during her whole life--why should she harm me now? + +I put out the light, and seated myself by the open window at the foot of +the bed. The round, full moon, in a cloudless sky, made every object in +the room and out of it as distinct as in the day. I looked at the +fountain, which spun its threads of light under the window; and at the +little flowers just peeping above the ground; and at the foliage, with +its many-shaded green; and occasionally I looked at the body stretched +upon the bed. And each time that I looked it seemed to me that it gently +stirred. This did not startle me at all, for I was accustomed to the +appearance of death. Who that has lost a friend does not find it +impossible to realize that the form is utterly without life? And who has +ever gazed long at a corpse without fancying that it moved? So again and +again I looked at Miriam, and again and again I fancied there was a +slight motion, scarcely perceptible. At last the constant repetition of +this feeling made me uneasy, and to quiet my mind, and satisfy myself +that it was only _seeming_, I went to the bed and bent over Miriam. + +My blood ran cold in my veins, as I encountered the eyes of Miriam, +open, dilated, and black, fixed upon mine! There was a strange light in +them. It scarcely looked like life, and yet it surely could not be +death. It seemed more like a light shining far down some black and deep +sepulchre. Half frenzied with terror, and scarcely knowing what I did, I +forced down the eyelids and shut out that hateful light; but the instant +I removed my fingers the eyes opened upon me again. This time it seemed +the expression was more life-like--there was _eagerness_ in it. Again I +pressed down the eyelids, but now there was resistance to my touch. I +could feel it. The hands, which had lain quiet on her breast, were +convulsively raised. I stepped back from the bed, and Miriam sat +upright! Incredible as it may appear, the frenzy of my terror was gone. +Miriam looked like herself. The ghastly pallor of death, the sunken +cheek, the pinched features were all there; but there was something in +the face which made me think of the Miriam of olden days--the Miriam I +had known before this last terrible sickness came upon her. I was not +entirely free from fear, but it was a charmed fear. I never thought of +calling any one. I could do nothing but watch Miriam. + +After a few convulsive efforts she got off the bed, and stood erect for +a moment. I remember thinking that all this was very strange, and +wondering what she would do next. She moved slowly to the door. I +followed her with my eyes. At the door she turned, and looked at me. And +then there rushed upon my mind the whole weight and responsibility of +the promise I had made her, that I would never leave her body until it +was consigned to the tomb! I comprehended that I must follow her, and +mechanically I obeyed the impulse. She took her way through the dining +room. Mrs. Grove was sitting in an easy-chair, fast asleep. I wondered +how she could sleep with this awful presence in the room. Miriam did not +glance at her, but passed out of the front door, into the street. My +mind was in a constant state of activity. My will was under the guidance +of Miriam. I had no control over it. My thoughts were my own, and +wandered from object to object. As we were passing down the steps I +thought how beautifully the river would look in the moonlight; but +Miriam turned in an opposite direction from the river, and I was +disappointed. How fearfully quiet was everything! I would have given +worlds, had I possessed them, if I could have seen a familiar face. I +even had a half-formed thought to scream loudly for help, but I could +not do it. My will was utterly powerless. We approached the house where +Ackermann resided, and I was seized with horror, thinking it possible +that she might murder him while I witnessed the bloody deed, powerless +to prevent it. But she never once looked at the house while passing it. +This phantom--whatever it might be--seemed to be entirely free from +human feelings. I do not think this idea tended to reassure me, and when +we left the closely built street, and merged into the open country, +where the fields stretched away on every side of us, with no life in +them, and where loneliness and desolation reigned supreme, I felt a new +terror, and longed to turn, and flee back to human life. But no! I must +follow my conductress wherever she chose to lead me! + +Miriam walked slowly at first, but had increased her speed as she +proceeded, and now she was walking so swiftly that I could scarcely keep +pace with her. I saw white marbles gleaming among the trees at the top +of a hill, and knew that we were approaching the graveyard. It was a +dreary-looking place--a disgrace to the village. The stone wall was in a +dilapidated condition, and in some places there were gaps in it. The +graves were overgrown with rank weeds, and many old gray tombstones lay +on the ground. The gate was swinging loosely on its hinges, and we +passed swiftly through it. And now, thought I, the mystery is solved. +Miriam is going to bury herself, and has brought me to fill the grave, +so that no one may see her body but me, I can never, never do it, if she +fixes those terrible eyes upon me! An open grave lay in our pathway. The +red clay soil, which was heaped around it, was moist. I felt my feet +sink in it as we passed over it--for around the grave we went on our +swift, unerring course--although I knew the grave had been that day dug +for Miriam! Did she know this? If so, she gave no sign of that +knowledge, and I breathed more freely when we were fairly out of the +graveyard. On the other side of it was a thick wood, into which I had +never penetrated. Indeed the thorny thickets, and low, poisonous bushes +made it impenetrable to any one, and yet it was into this wood that +Miriam led the way. How we pushed through it I do not know. My clothes +were nearly torn into rags, and so were Miriam's. My flesh was torn also +in several places. I had no means of knowing whether hers was torn also. + +At last she stopped before a mass of--but my heart grows sick and my +brain dizzy when I think of that--I cannot describe it, but I knew by +unmistakable evidences that the lost Annie was found! + +I looked at Miriam, but she did not return my glance. I could not see +her face. She stopped only a moment, and continued her walk. And now I +followed fearlessly. As soon as I discovered that the phantom had a +_human_ purpose, my terror abated. I was now in a state of feverish +excitement, wondering what other discoveries would be made. Our way lay +along the bank of a little brook. The space was more open. The weeds and +bushes had evidently been trampled down, and broken away. Miriam walked +more slowly, and looked upon the ground. At last she again paused, and +pointed with a rigid, bony finger to a little alder twig, which was +trembling in the breeze. I could see nothing there but a dewdrop +sparkling in the moonlight; but, obeying the impulse of my will, which +was in obedience to Miriam, I stooped to touch the dewdrop, and instead, +I took off the twig--a ring! It was the diamond ring, which Miriam had +given to Ackermann. I clutched it in my hand, and turned to Miriam, but +she was retracing her steps. + +I remember nothing of the return home. I saw nothing, felt nothing. I +seemed to be sailing through the air, so exhilarated was I. I can +compare my state to nothing but that of a person who has been taking +ether. I took but little notice of Miriam, until we entered the village, +when I observed that she walked more slowly. After a time it seemed to +be an effort to her to walk at all, until finally she tottered, and fell +close by her own door. I stood an instant, and looked at her. She lay on +the step, a stiff and rigid corpse. Her eyes were open, but they were +fixed in the glassy stare of death! I ran into the house. Mrs. Grove was +in the dining room, sleeping heavily. I was about to awaken her, when I +remembered that I would have to account for the strange fact of the body +lying at the front door. How could I tell Mrs. Grove, who had showed +herself to be a weak and nervous woman, the wonderful story of our night +walk? Would she be able to help me if she knew it? I thought of calling +upon Miriam's father, but that seemed horrible. These thoughts rushed +through my mind with the rapidity of lightning, and I ran out of the +door again, not knowing what to do. A man was standing on the step: I +suppose he happened to be passing, and stopped in amazement at the +sight; but I did not pause to look at him, or ask him any questions. I +had no time to give him explanations, for I saw the gray dawn was +breaking in the eastern sky, and feared that soon other persons might +come along the street. I gave him a confused and hurried account of how +we had thought Miriam dead, and how she had walked that far, and fallen; +and I begged him to help me carry her in the house. He consented, and +then I remembered that there was a side door, which was near Miriam's +room, and if we carried the body through that we should avoid waking +Mrs. Grove. I passed silently through the dining room, and, having +unbolted the door, I returned, and lifted the body of my poor friend in +my arms, while the stranger raised her head. And thus we carried her in +the house, and laid her on the bed. I smoothed her dishevelled hair, and +arranged her torn dress, forgetting that any one else was in the room, +until I was startled by a groan. And then for the first time I looked at +the stranger. It was Ackermann! + +My fingers involuntarily closed tighter around the ring, which, all this +time, I had kept shut up in my hand. Not for the world would I have had +him to see it then. I was more afraid of him than I had been of Miriam +during all our journey. She might be called an Avenging Angel. He was a +destroying Fiend. + +He trembled violently. He laid his hand heavily upon my arm. It was as +cold as ice, and made a chilly horror creep over me. + +'Tell me, Hester,' he said, in a hoarse voice, 'what is the meaning of +this? You and Miriam have been farther than the front door, or your +clothes would not be in this cut and ragged condition. Why do you look +at me so strangely--so horribly? Speak to me! Speak!' + +I longed to show him the ring, and confront him then with his horrid +crimes, but he looked so fiercely I dared not. It is well that I did +not. I know not what might have been the result. Justice might have been +cheated of her proper prey, and I not have been here to write this tale. +I made my escape from the room, and left him with his dead victim. + +I have a confused recollection of being surrounded with pale and eager +faces, and of telling them my wonderful story, and showing them the +ring. And then I remember nothing more for many hours, for I fell into a +heavy sleep. + +That night, so full of horrors, did not turn my hair white, or make me +ill, or cause me to lose my reason. I was subject to a nervous +irritability for some time afterward, but that passed away, and the only +feeling I have left to remind me of that terrible night is my aversion +to sit up with a dead body. I have never done it since. + +The route that Miriam and I had followed was carefully traced. Our +tracks were not discernible until the graveyard was nearly reached. +There they found the print of our shoes in the wet gravel; and in the +loose soil around the newly dug grave. On Annie was found a note from +Ackermann appointing a meeting with her on that evening when she had so +mysteriously disappeared. + +Ackermann was arrested and brought to trial. When he learned the nature +of the evidence against him it seemed to fill him with a superstitious +horror, which drew from him a full confession of his guilt, although, at +first, he protested his innocence. He gave in his confession, and met +his ignominious death with the same bold front and reckless daring he +had manifested during all his life. + +It only remains to tell how Ackermann was led to murder a woman he +loved--for he certainly loved Annie. It seems that Annie, in her light, +trifling way, had seriously wounded him by flirting with one of her +former suitors. He remonstrated, but his evident distress only urged the +giddy girl to further trials of her power. And she had an object in +arousing his jealousy, for she too was jealous of Miriam's ring. He +persisted in wearing it, notwithstanding her entreaties, and she feared +some lingering affection for the giver gave rise to the reluctance to +part with the gift. On the night of the murder, high words had passed +between them in regard to it. In the heat of the discussion, Annie had +managed dexterously to slip the ring off his finger. He struggled to +regain it. She threw it away. The quarrel now grew more violent, until +at last, in his rage, and as unconscious of what he was doing as an +intoxicated man, he struck the fatal blow, and Annie fell dead at his +feet. In the midst of his horror and remorse--for even he was filled +with horror at such a deed--he thought of himself, and provided for his +safety by hiding the body among the thorny and poisonous bushes, knowing +it would be more unlikely to be found there than if he threw it into the +river, or dug a grave for it. Creeping carefully in and out among the +thick, thorny bushes, so as to disarrange them as little as possible, he +first deposited his dead burden, and then returned to the place of the +last fatal struggle, that he might look for the lost ring. + +The moon had risen, and he could see every object with great +distinctness. He looked carefully along the ground, pushing aside the +weeds, and removing every stone under which it might have rolled. After +a few minutes' search he became conscious that some one else was looking +for the ring! He was angry with himself for entertaining such a +delusion; but still, in spite of his efforts to get rid of it, the +feeling continued. He had a dim and vague idea that something impalpable +was near him, now by his side, now before him, _never behind him_, +looking as eagerly and as anxiously as himself for the lost diamonds. He +inwardly cursed his own cowardice, for he thought this apparition was +born from his guilty conscience, and he determined to pay no heed to it. + +At last he approached a cluster of alder bushes, which he now remembered +to have been the place where Annie threw away the ring. He was about to +commence a search among these, when suddenly Miriam stood between him +and the bushes. He saw her distinctly for a moment, and then she +vanished from his gaze. He pursued her in the direction she had taken, +but no trace of her could he find. Then, recollecting how very ill she +was, he became convinced that he had become subject to an optical +illusion. But he had now become fearful and nervous, and dared not +return to the spot to renew the search. And thus it was that the ring +was left upon the twig of alder to bear witness against him. + + + + +NAPOLEON'S TOMB. + +_Written by_ HON. ROBERT J. WALKER (_then a student_) _in 1821, +on hearing of the death of Napoleon_. + + + See where amid the Ocean's surging tide + A little island lifts its desert side, + Where storms on storms in ceaseless torrents pour, + And howling billows lash its rocky shore-- + There lies Napoleon in his island tomb: + Nations combined to antedate his doom. + Mars nursed the infant in a thundercloud, + France gave him empire, Britain wrought his shroud. + Danger and glory claimed him as their own, + And Fortune marked him as her favorite son; + Science seemed dozing in eternal sleep, + And superstition brooded o'er the deep; + Black was the midnight of the human soul, + Such Gothic darkness shrouds the icy pole: + Napoleon bade his conquering legions pour + The blaze of battle on from shore to shore: + Though blood and havoc marked the victor's way, + Blest Science shed her genial ray. + Betrayed, not conquered, round the hero's sleep + The Arts shall mourn, and Genius vigil keep. + + + + +THE DESTINY OF THE AFRICAN RACE IN THE UNITED STATES. + + +Many persons may be disposed to receive with a large share of scepticism +the affirmation that there is an aspect of the 'negro question,' which +has not, within the last thirty years of ceaseless agitation, undergone +a thorough discussion. Yet such an assertion would be perfectly true. +There is one side of that question, at which, during all the fierce +excitements of the time, we have scarcely looked; and which many, even +those who have taken an active and leading part in the controversy, have +not carefully studied. + +The morality of our system of slavery has been fully and thoroughly +discussed, and may be considered as finally and forever settled, in the +judgment of all right-minded and impartial men throughout Christendom. +It may henceforth be taken as the _consensus omnium gentium_, that men +and women, with their children and their children's children forever, +cannot rightfully be made, by human laws, chattels personal and articles +of merchandise. + +The economy of slavery has been discussed. Its relations to wealth, to +industry, to commerce, manufactures, and the arts, as well as to +education, public intelligence, and public morals, are so well +understood, that it is not probable that the efforts even of Jefferson +Davis, or the whole 'Southern confederacy,' with the aid of such +transatlantic allies as the London _Times_, will be able, in respect to +such matters as these, to change or even to unsettle the judgment of +mankind. + +But there is another class of questions on which the public mind is as +unthoughtful and unenlightened, as in respect to these it is thoughtful +and intelligent. We have pretty well considered what consequences may be +expected from the continuance of slavery; but we have neglected to +inquire, on the supposition of the emancipation of the negro, what will +be his condition, what his future, and what his influence on our +national destiny. Upon such questions as these, we have, during the +controversy, dogmatized much, and thought little. They have called forth +many outbursts of passion, but very little calm, thoughtful discussion. + +There is no lack of earnest and confident opinions in the public mind in +relation to this class of questions. It is in respect to this very side +of the negro question, that prejudices the most intense and inveterate +are widely prevalent; prejudices, too, which have exerted the most +decisive influence on the controversy, through every stage of its +progress. The masses of the American people believe in those principles +of political equality upon which all our constitutions are founded. They +not only believe in them, but they cherish and love them. They perceive, +too, by a kind of instinct, what many a would-be philosopher has failed +to see, that the application and carrying out of those principles +necessarily involve the fusion of the entire mass to which they are +applied, into one homogeneous whole; that we cannot have a government +founded on political equality, consistently with our having an inferior +and proscribed class of citizens; a class from whose daughters our sons +may not take their wives, and to whose sons we are not willing, either +in this or in any future generation, to give our daughters in marriage. +Political equality implies that the son of any parents may be raised to +the highest offices in the government, and wear the most brilliant +honors which a free people can confer. And the masses of the people +instinctively see, or rather feel, that it is impossible to admit to +such equality a class to whom we deny, and always intend to deny all +equality in the social state; and with whom we are shocked at the very +thought of ever uniting our race and our blood. + +I am not now saying where the moral right of this matter lies; or +whether, in this inveterate hostility to a social equality with the +negro, the masses of the people are right or wrong. I am only affirming, +what certainly cannot be successfully denied, that while they retain and +cherish it, they will never be willing to apply to him this doctrine of +political equality. They will always resist it, as carrying with it, by +inevitable consequence, that social equality to which they are +determined never to submit. If the doctrine of political equality, so +fundamental, to our system of government, is ever to be extended so as +to embrace the colored man, it can only be done by overcoming and +utterly obliterating this social aversion. + +If it were proved to be ever so desirable to effect such a change in the +tastes and prejudices of the American people, history does not lend any +countenance to the belief that it is possible. Wherever one people has +conquered another, the conquerors and their descendants have always +asserted for themselves a political superiority for ages; and that +political superiority has extended itself into all the relations of +social life. This has taken place with such uniformity, as to impress +upon the mind the belief that it occurs in obedience to some great law +of human nature, which may be expected to baffle all attempts at +resistance in the future, as it has done in the past. The testimony of +history is, that equality can be the law of national life only when the +nation was originally formed from equal elements. But two peoples never +met on the same soil, and under the same government, under conditions so +widely unequal as the European and the African populations of this +country. The Europeans are, to a great extent, the descendants of the +most enlightened men of the world, heirs by birth to the highest +civilization of the nineteenth century. The Africans, on the contrary, +are the known descendants of parents who were taken by force from their +own country, and brought hither as merchandise, sold as chattels and +beasts of burden to the highest bidder; and have even now no +civilization except what they have acquired in this condition of abject +slavery; separated, too, from the dominant class, not only by this +stigma of slavery, but by complexion and features so marked and +peculiar, that a small taint of the blood of the servile class can be +detected with unerring certainty. If history decides anything, it is +that a system of political equality cannot be formed out of such +elements. The experience of the world is against it. + +This deeply seated aversion to the recognition of the equality of the +white man and the black man is a potent force, which has been +incessantly active in all our history, and furnishes the only +satisfactory explanation of the fact that slavery did not perish, at +least from all the Northern slave-holding States, long ago. There is, +especially in the Border Slave States, a large non-slave-holding class, +who know that the existence of slavery is utterly prejudicial to their +interests and destructive of their prosperity as free laborers. They are +so keenly sensible of this, that they regard with almost equal hatred +the system of slavery, the negro, and the slave owner. But one +consideration, which is never absent from their minds, always prevails, +even over their regard for their own interests, and receives their +steady and invariable cooeperation with the slave owner in perpetuating +the enslavement of the colored man. That consideration is the dread of +negro equality. If, say they, the colored man becomes a freeman, then +why not entitled to all the privileges and franchises which other +freemen enjoy? And if admitted to political, then surely to social +equality also. + +And to many it seems perfectly clear that the universal emancipation of +the negro carries with it by inevitable necessity his admission to the +full enjoyment of all equality, political and social, and his becoming +homogeneous with the mass of the American people; and the fact that they +think so is the only adequate explanation of the inflexible energy of +will with which they resist all measures which are supposed to tend in +the smallest degree toward emancipation. And they think themselves able +to give unanswerable reasons for the bitterness with which they note +everything which is expressed by the word 'abolitionism.' They assume it +for a fact, which admits no contradiction, that the natural increase of +the negro race in this country is more rapid than that of the white man. +So far as my observation extends, the great majority of the people +believe this with an undoubting faith. It is constantly asserted in +conversation, and in the most exaggerated form in newspaper paragraphs; +although (as I shall presently show) a mere glance at our census tables +disproves it. It is also assumed, with a faith equally undoubting, that +if the slaves were all emancipated, the negro race would still increase +as rapidly in freedom as in slavery. Emancipation, it is said, would at +once cast upon the country four millions and a half of free negroes; and +by the rapidity of their increase, they would, at no distant day, become +a majority of the whole population. + +If then, it is further argued, you emancipate them, and yet withhold +from them a full participation in all our political privileges, they +will be hostile to our government, a great nation of aliens in the midst +of us, who would be the natural enemies of our institutions. An +internecine war of races, it is said, must follow. Even here it would be +well for persons who entertain such gloomy apprehensions, to remember +that if these assumptions were all true (though I will show in the +sequel that they are not), even then, emancipation could not make of the +negroes more dangerous enemies to our institutions than slavery has made +of the masters. It is also said that the only possible mode of escaping +all these horrible results, would be to admit the negro, if he must be +freed, to all the privileges and franchises of the Constitution, and +amalgamate him entirely with the mass of American society. Thus it is +taken for proved that emancipation would carry with it the equality of +the negro and the white man in all their relations. + +I believe it to be true beyond reasonable doubt, that the great majority +of the American people do at this time accept this substantially as +their creed on the question of emancipation. They do not mean to justify +slavery; they abhor and hate it; they regard it as economically, +socially, politically, and morally wrong. But they regard emancipation +as tending directly and inevitably to incorporate the negro into the +mass of American society, and compel us to treat him as homogeneous with +it. To such a solution of the question they feel an unconquerable +aversion. It shocks their taste; it violates their notions of propriety +and fitness; they resist it by a sort of instinct, rather than from set +conviction and purpose. + +Nor is there one man in a thousand of us, who is not conscious in +himself of a certain degree of sympathy with this view of the subject, +however much we may think that we morally disapprove it. With enslaving +the negro, and reducing him to an article of merchandise, or depriving +him of one of those moral rights which God has given him as a man, we +have no sympathy. But if, in full view of a proposition to break down +all the social barriers which now divide the races, so that our +descendants and those of the colored man shall form one homogeneous +people, we interrogate our own consciousness, we shall discover that +we, even those of us who have most eloquently and indignantly denounced +'prejudice against color,' are compelled to own ourselves in sympathy +with the great mass of the American people, in utter and unconquerable +aversion to such an arrangement. + +It is probable that this article may fall into the hands of some friends +of mine whose judgment I greatly respect, and whose feelings I should be +most reluctant to wound, to whom these sentiments will at first view be +far from agreeable. But for many years I have entertained them with +undoubting confidence of their truth; and at this solemn crisis of our +nation's destiny it becomes us to lay aside all our prejudices, and to +endeavor to reach the truth on this momentous question. I repeat it: +this side of the subject has not been fairly met and considered in this +discussion. The time has come when we must meet it. Emancipation is an +indispensable condition of the restoration and perpetuity of the Union, +perhaps even of our continued national existence. The one great +objection to emancipation, in the minds of the people, North and South, +is the belief, so confidently and even obstinately entertained, that it +carries with it as an inevitable consequence, either an internecine war +of races, which would destroy us, or the amalgamation of our race and +blood with that of the negro. If we mean, as practical men and +statesmen, to seek our country's salvation by means of emancipation, we +must, in some way, relieve the national mind from the pressure of this +objection. Till we do so, the masses of the people will say to us: 'We +do not approve of slavery; we abhor it; but if we are to have the negro +among us, we believe in keeping him in slavery.' All of us, who are in +the habit of talking with the people on this subject, know that almost +in these very words we are met at every street corner. We must answer +it, or in some form slavery will still continue to be the curse of our +country, and to hurry it on to an untimely and ignominious end. + +Let it be distinctly borne in mind that it is not the _moral_ equality +of the negro to the white man, which is under consideration. That indeed +is only indirectly assailed by the inveterate national prejudice of +which I speak. Those masses of the people who have no pecuniary interest +in slavery, trample on the moral rights of the colored man only because +they are made to believe themselves placed under the hard necessity of +doing so, in order to resist any approach toward that political and +social equality with him to which they are determined never to submit. +Show them how they can concede to him the former without conceding the +latter, and they will gladly do it. For myself, nothing can be added to +the intensity of my conviction not only that the colored man must be +protected in the full enjoyment of all the moral rights of humanity, as +a condition of our prolonged national existence; but that the masses of +the people never will consent to a political and social equality with +the negro race. + +How then can the public mind be assured that to emancipate the enslaved +race, to confer on them all the moral rights of humanity, does not +involve by any necessity or even remote probability, either an +internecine war of races on our own soil, or the fusion of the two races +into one homogeneous people? One answer, which satisfies many, is, the +freedmen must be colonized in some unoccupied region of the earth, where +they may be separated from the white man, and build up for themselves an +independent and homogeneous nationality. I have no controversy with this +proposed solution of the difficulty, or with the excellent men who are +advocating and promoting it, with an earnest patriotism worthy of all +honor. But I have grave doubts of the adequacy of this solution to meet +the momentous exigencies of the present crisis. At least, I feel no +necessity of resting the whole cause upon it, when there is another +solution at hand, which certainly is adequate, furnished by the very +laws of nature which the Creator has established, and so certain in its +operation, that we have only to strike the fetters from the limbs of the +poor slave, and recognize his manhood, and God will take care of the +rest, and protect our country from the evils we have so much dreaded. + +That solution is found in a great law of population. It is necessary, +therefore, that I should state this law, and prove its reality, and its +adequacy to meet all the necessities of the case in hand. + +Whenever two peoples, one of which is little removed from barbarism, and +the other having the full strength of a mature civilization, are placed +in juxtaposition with each other, on terms of free labor and free +competition, the stronger will always either amalgamate itself with the +weaker, or extinguish it. In the former case, civilization undergoes an +eclipse, almost an extinction. The homogeneous people resulting from +such a union, occupies a position in the scale of civilization much +nearer to that of their barbarous than that of their civilized parents. +Numerous and conclusive examples of this have occurred in the progress +of the French, Spanish, and Portuguese colonies in proximity to the +various native tribes of this continent. They have generally amalgamated +freely with their savage neighbors; and a deep eclipse of civilization +has in every instance resulted. When that eclipse is to end, we have not +the foresight to determine. + +The English colonies, on the other hand, in all parts of the world, have +steadily refused to enter into any marriage relations with their +barbarous neighbors, or to recognize as belonging to their community any +half-breeds springing from licentious and illicit connection with them. +Here, too, the results are almost entirely uniform. The extinction of +such barbarous tribes brought within the sphere of their competition has +been rapid and almost if not absolutely invariable; while the English +colonies themselves have preserved the civilization of the parent stock +in almost undiminished vigor. + +A mere general view of the history of European colonization in barbarous +regions of the earth, does therefore afford a very striking proof of the +truth of my proposition. And it is much to our purpose here to remark, +that the very aversion to incorporating the negro into our nationality, +which is so firmly fixed in the minds of the masses of the people, is no +new thing in our history, and no outgrowth of slavery. It is the same +national characteristic which, in all parts of the world, has prevented +the English colonist from intermarrying with his barbarous neighbor. +Call it by what hard name you please, call it 'prejudice against color,' +and denounce it as eloquently and indignantly as you may, it is one of +the most remarkable and one of the most respectable features of the +English colonies wherever found, and one of the chief causes of their +preeminence over those of other European nations, in civilization, +wealth, and power. But what it is chiefly to our purpose to remark is, +that while it is to the colonies themselves the cause of unequalled +prosperity and rapidity of growth in all the elements of national +greatness, to their savage neighbors it is the cause of rapid and +certain extinction. + +Precisely in such relations to each other will the white and colored +populations of the United States be placed by an act of universal +emancipation, the substitution of free labor and free competition for +the compulsory power of the master. And while on the one hand the +history of the colonial off-shoots of England shows that the +amalgamation of the races will not follow, it shows with equal clearness +and certainty that the rapid extinction of the colored race will +follow. Here I might rest the whole argument, with a high degree of +assurance of the soundness and certainty of my conclusion, that the +result of emancipation must be, not the amalgamation of the races, not +an internecine war between them, but the inevitable extinction of the +weaker race by the competition of the stronger. I say the _competition_ +of the stronger, because, to avoid extending this article to a very +unreasonable length, I must assume that the reader is sufficiently +versed in American history to know that even the Indian perishes, for +the most part, not by the sword or the rifle of the white man, but by +the simple competition of civilization with the Indian's means of +subsistence. + +I might, I say, leave my argument here; but to do so would be great +injustice to the subject. There are abundant and unquestionable facts, +which show to a demonstration, that the case of the negro in his +relations to the European population of this country is embraced in the +law just stated. + +In the first place, the two races are not amalgamated. Intermarriages +between them are so rare, that few of the readers of this article can +remember ever to have known one. Such marriages are regarded as +monstrous and disgraceful, though the law should, as in some of the +States, recognize them. One sentiment in respect to them pervades the +whole community, and that a sentiment of aversion. Those half-breeds +which spring from licentiousness, or even from the very few lawful +marriages which have occurred, are not accepted as standing in any +nearer relations to the white man than the pure-blooded African. In +those States where slavery has been longest extinct, and the colored man +has been relieved from all legal disabilities, the line between the two +races is as sharply drawn to-day as it was two hundred years ago. On +such a question two hundred years and more is long enough for an +experiment. The experiment already tried does prove that the +Anglo-American and African populations of this country cannot be +amalgamated, either by freedom or slavery; and those who pretend to fear +it, are either trying to deceive others for selfish and criminal +purposes, or else they are wofully deceived themselves. + +Nor are the apprehensions of those who dread the rapid increase of the +negro, at all sustained by facts. That fear of a coming internecine war +of races, in case the colored man is emancipated, which haunts some +minds, has no foundation except in ignorance of the real facts. In no +portion of our history has our colored population ever increased with a +rapidity nearly so great as the white population. From 1790 to 1860 the +colored population increased in the ratio of 1 to 5.86; and the white +population in the ratio of 1 to 8.50. If we compare them for any shorter +period, we shall always find that the white population increased the +more rapidly of the two. From 1790 to 1808, we might perhaps expect to +find it otherwise; for during that period the slave trade was in full +activity, and tens of thousands of Africans were imported as articles of +merchandise. But from 1790 to 1810, while the colored population +increased in the ratio of 1 to 1.81, the white population increased in +the ratio of 1 to 1.84, although during that period the white population +of the country was very little increased by immigration. How it has +happened that this point, which our tables of population make so +entirely plain, has been so much misapprehended, and why the prevailing +notions respecting it are so erroneous, is not easy to explain. The +above estimate also reckons all half breeds as belonging to the colored +population. (See De Bow's 'Compendium of the United States Census of +1850,' Tables 18, 42, and 71.) + +But this is not all. A careful examination of Tables 42 and 71 of the +volume above referred to, will show that the increase of the colored +race in freedom is certainly not half so great as in slavery. Indeed +there is great reason to doubt whether our colored population has ever +increased at all, except in slavery. From 1790 to 1800 the free colored +population almost doubled, evidently by the emancipation of slaves; for +during that period the slave population of Connecticut, Delaware, New +Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont was greatly +diminished, while that of New Jersey and Maryland was very little +increased. In the last mentioned the increase of her slave population +was only 21/2 per cent. in ten years, while the increase of her free +colored population was 1431/2 per cent. in the same period. These +figures leave no room for doubt that the rapid increase of the free +colored population in all that decade was caused by the fact that the +great mass of the people were honestly opposed to slavery, and therefore +the work of emancipation went on with rapidity. + +From 1800 to 1810 the increase of the free colored population was 72 per +cent., under the continued though somewhat slackened operation of the +same cause. From 1810 to 1820 the increase had declined from 72 to 25 +per cent.; for the very obvious reason that most of the Northern States +had now no slaves to emancipate, while the Southern States were holding +to the system of slavery with increased tenacity, and emancipation was +becoming less frequent. From 1820 to 1830 the ratio of increase was +again raised to 37 per cent. in ten years. By referring again to Table +71, it will be seen that in that decade, New York and New Jersey +emancipated more than 15,000 slaves, adding them to the free colored +population. From 1830 to 1840 the rate of increase declined to 21 per +cent., and from 1840 to 1850 to only 121/4 per cent., and to 10 per +cent. from 1850 to 1860. + +These figures prove that from 1790 to 1840 the increase of the free +colored population depended chiefly on the emancipation of slaves, and +leave no reason to believe that its own natural increase ever exceeded +121/4 per cent. in ten years; while the average increase of the slave +population is nearly 28 per cent. in ten years, and of the white +population 34 per cent. in ten years. Thus, beyond controversy, the +reproductive power of the colored population, always greatly inferior to +that of the white population, is yet not half so great in freedom as in +slavery. This difference is to be accounted for in great measure by the +wicked and beastly stimulus applied to the increase of slaves, that the +chattel market may be kept supplied. + +There is no reason to suppose that the increase of the free colored +population would be in a greater ratio if all were emancipated; but, as +will appear from considerations yet to be presented, much for supposing +that it would be in a much smaller ratio. How then would the case stand +on that supposition? In 1860 there were about 27,000,000 of our white +population, increasing at the rate of 34 per cent. in ten years; and +less than 4,500,000 of colored population, increasing (on the +supposition of universal freedom) in a ratio not exceeding 121/4 per +cent. in ten years. Surely, that must be a very timid man who, in this +relation of the parties, fears anything from the increase of free +negroes. A war between these two races, so related to each other, is +simply absurd, and the fear of it childish and cowardly. Slavery may +multiply the colored population till its numbers shall become alarming; +but if we will give freedom to the black man, we have nothing to fear +from his increase. + +But this certainly is not the full strength of the case. There is no +good reason to believe that the natural increase of the free colored +population is even 121/4 per cent. in ten years, but much for +suspecting that even this apparent increase is the result of +emancipation, either by the slave's own act, or by the consent of the +master. If we take our departure from Chicago, make the tour of the +lakes to the point where the boundary line of New York and Pennsylvania +intersects the shore of Lake Erie, thence pass along the southern +boundary of New York, till it intersects the Hudson river, thence along +that river and the Atlantic coast to the southern boundary of Virginia, +thence along the southern boundaries of Virginia and Kentucky to the +Mississippi, thence along that river to the point where the northern +boundary of Illinois intersects it, and thence along that boundary and +the shore of Lake Michigan to the place of departure, we shall have +embraced within the line described ten of the thirty-four States of the +Union. By an examination of Table 42, already referred to, it will be +seen that outside of those ten States the free colored population not +only did not increase between 1840 and 1850, but actually diminished, +and that all the increase of that decade was in those ten States. + +Why then was there an increase in those ten States, while in the other +twenty-four there was an actual decrease? I think this question can only +be answered by ascribing that increase to emancipation. In Kentucky, +Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, slavery is unprofitable and declining, +and acts of emancipation frequently occur. Pennsylvania and New Jersey, +before the passage of the fugitive slave law of 1850, were favorite +resorts of fugitives, perhaps partly on account of the known sympathies +of the Quakers. Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, were also resorted to by +fugitives, both on account of their easy accessibility from adjacent +Slave States, and their proximity to Canada, and also because such labor +as a fugitive from slavery is best able to do, is there always in +demand. These States have also received thousands of colored persons, +brought to them by humane and conscientious masters, for the very +purpose of emancipating them. + +From 1850 to 1860 the facts are still more striking. The increase which +occurred was not, as would have been true of a natural increase, +scattered over our whole territory, and in some proportion to the +colored population previously existing, but almost wholly, either where +the unprofitableness and decline of slavery was leading to emancipation, +or where from any cause the fugitive slave law of 1850 was not strictly +enforced. Examples of the former are Maryland, Virginia, and Missouri, +and of the latter are Ohio, Illinois, Michigan, Iowa, and even +Massachusetts and Connecticut, in the latter of which it had been +declining for twenty years previous. + +With the facts before us, then, furnished by the United States Census, +from 1790 to 1860, how is it possible to believe that the colored +population of this country has ever increased at all, except hi slavery? +How can we help seeing that it is slavery, and slavery alone, which has +swelled their numbers from a little more than half a million, as it was +in 1790, to near four and a half millions at the present time? Yet there +are millions among us that turn pale at the thought of emancipation, +lest thereby we should be overrun by the multiplication of the colored +race! There are millions who would be thought intelligent men, who think +they have propounded an unanswerable argument against emancipation When +they have asked, 'What will you do with the negro?' We may well ask what +shall we do with the negro, if we continue to multiply the race in +slavery as beasts of burden and articles of merchandise. But on the +supposition of freedom, the question has no significance. The men who +are always scaring themselves and others by such fears are either very +ignorant or very hypocritical. + +But the case will be still stronger when we come to inquire, as we must +before we close, into the causes of the facts which have just been +presented. There is no reason to believe that the slower increase of the +colored race is at all due to any original inferiority in the powers of +reproduction, or that any such inferiority exists. Its causes are to be +found wholly in the different circumstances, characters, and habits of +the two peoples. The negro is, to a great extent, a barbarian in the +midst of civilization. He is destitute of those comforts of life, that +care, skill, and intelligent watchfulness, which are indispensable to +success in rearing children in the midst of the dangers, exposures, and +diseases of infancy. His dwelling does not afford the necessary +protection from the cold and storms of winter, or from the heats of +summer: it is ill warmed and ill ventilated; he has not an unfailing +supply of food and clothing suited to the wants of that most frail and +delicate of living creatures, a human infant. Hence a large portion of +his children die in infancy. + +On the last page of the Appendix to the volume already referred to, is a +most instructive table, showing the truth of this operation. Thus in +1850 the white population of Alabama was 426,514; the colored +population, slave and free, was 365,109. In that year the deaths of +white children under five years of age were 1,650; of colored children, +2,463. That is, only two thirds as many white children died as colored; +and yet the white population was greater almost in the ratio of 7 to 6. +By running the eye down the table, it will be seen that similar facts +exist in every State where there is a large colored population. These +facts leave us in no doubt as to the reason why the increase of the +colored population is always slower than that of the white population. + +This occurs, as the table just referred to shows, under slavery, where +the pecuniary interest of the master will secure his watchful +cooeperation with the parent to preserve the life of the infant. But in +freedom the same causes act upon the colored race with vastly more +destructive effect. The preservation of infant life and health is then +left solely to the care, skill, and resources of the parent. The result +is that decay of the colored race which we have seen indicated in the +census. It is essential to our purpose that this point should be made +quite plain. + +It is obvious that there is in every community a lower stratum of +population, in which wages are sufficient to support the individual +laborer in comfort, but not sufficient for the support of a family. This +not only always has been so, but it always must be, as long as +competition continues to be the test of value; and competition must +continue to be the test of value as long as the individual right of +property is protected and preserved. Nor is this, as many superficial +thinkers of our day have thought it, merely the hard and selfish rule by +which Shylock oppresses and grinds the face of his victim: it is a +necessary and beneficent law of the best forms of society which can ever +exist in this world. The welfare of society in all the future +imperatively requires that it should be propagated from the strong, the +sound, the healthy, both in body and mind, from the strongest, most +vigorous, and noblest specimens of the race; and not from the diseased, +the weak, the vicious, the degraded, the broken-down classes. Thus only +can the life and health of society be preserved age after age. This is +as necessary as it is that the farmer should propagate his domestic +animals from the finest of his stock, and not from the diminutive, the +weak, and the sickly. And it is accomplished in well ordered society by +that very law of wages just stated. As a general rule, it is the very +persons who are unfit to be the parents of the coming generation, that +are thrown into that lower stratum where wages are insufficient for the +support of a family. And just in proportion as the entire structure of +society is pervaded by intelligence and virtue, this class of persons +will abstain from marriage, by prudently considering that they have not +a satisfactory prospect of being able to support a family. It is thus +only that the horrors of extreme poverty can be avoided at the bottom of +the social pyramid. The severity of this law of wages and population can +thus be greatly mitigated and the comforts of life be universally +enjoyed; but the law itself is necessary and beneficent, and never can +be repealed till human nature and human society are constructed on other +principles than those known to us. + +To apply this to the question before us: When by the act of emancipation +the negro is made a free laborer, he is brought into direct competition +with the white man; that competition he is unable to endure; and he soon +finds his place in that lower stratum, which has just been spoken of, +where he can support himself in tolerable comfort as a hired servant, +but cannot support a family. The consequence is inevitable. He will +either never marry, or he will, in the attempt to support a family, +struggle in vain against the laws of nature, and his children will, many +of them at least, die in infancy. It is not necessary to argue to +convince a candid man (and for candid men only is this article written) +that this is, as a general rule, the condition of the free negro. And it +shows, beyond the possibility of mistake, what in this country his +destiny must be. Like his brother, the Indian of the forest, he must +melt away and disappear forever from the midst of us. I do not affirm or +intimate that this must be his destiny in all countries. In the tropical +regions of the earth, where he may have little to fear from the +competition of the more civilized white man, he may preserve and +multiply his race. Let him try the experiment. It is worth trying. + +Far be it from me to intimate that the negro is the only class of our +population that are in this sad condition. In our large cities and towns +there are hundreds of thousands of men who have no drop of African blood +in their veins, and who are more clamorous than any other class against +negro equality, who, through ignorance or vice, or superstition, or +inevitable calamity, are in the same hard lot; their children, if they +have any, perish in great numbers in infancy, and they will add nothing +to the future population of our country. That will be derived from a +stronger, nobler parentage. Their race will become extinct. Their case +differs from that of the colored man only in this, that they are not +distinguished by color and features from the rest of the population; so +that the decay of their race cannot be traced by the eye and the memory, +and expressed in statistical tables. + +We are now prepared to see why the colored population has been, for a +considerable time, declining in New York and New England. In those +States population is dense; all occupations which afford a comfortable +living for a family are crowded and the competition of the white man is +quite too much for the negro. If emancipation were now to be made +universal, the same thing would rapidly occur in all parts of our +country. The white laborer would rush in and speedily crowd every avenue +to prosperity and wealth; and the negro, with his inferior civilization, +would be crowded everywhere into the lower stratum of the social +pyramid, and in a few generations be seen no more. The far more rapid +increase of the white race would render the competition more and more +severe to him with each successive generation, and render his decay more +rapid, and his extinction more certain. + +I am well aware that this article may fall into the hands of many +excellent men who will not relish this argument, nor this conclusion. +They will say it were better then to keep the poor negro in slavery. But +they would not say so if they would consider the whole case. If slavery +were a blessing to the black man, it is so great a curse to the white +man that it should never be permitted to exist. The white man can afford +to be kind to the negro in freedom; but he cannot afford to curse +himself with being his master and owning him as his property. On this +point I need not enlarge, for I am devoutly thankful that the literature +of Christendom is full of it. + +But slavery is not a blessing to the negro, even in the view of his +condition which I have presented; it is an _unmitigated curse_. To a man +of governed passions and virtuous life, it is infinitely better to be an +unmarried freeman, enjoying the comforts of this life, and the hopes of +the life to come, than to live and die a slave, and the parent of an +interminable posterity of slaves. To a being of vicious life and +ungoverned passions, all life is a curse, whether in slavery or freedom; +and it surely is not obligatory on us, or beneficial to the colored man, +to preserve the system of slavery for the sake of perpetuating a +succession of such lives down through coming generations. + +Slavery, by forced and artificial means, propagates society from its +lowest and most degraded class, from a race of barbarians held within +its bosom from generation to generation, without being permitted to +share its civilizing influences. It thus propagates barbarism from age +to age, till at last it involves both master and slave in a common ruin. +Freedom recruits the ranks of a nation's population from the homes of +the industrious, the frugal, the strong, the enlightened, the virtuous, +the religious; and leaves the ignorant, the superstitious, the indolent, +the improvident, the vicious, without an offspring, and without a name +in future generations. Freedom places society, by obeying the law of +propagation which God imposed on it, upon an ascending plane of +ever-increasing civilization; slavery, by a forced and unnatural law of +propagation, places it upon a descending plane of ever-deepening vice +and barbarism. + +That dread of negro equality which is perpetually haunting the +imaginations of the American people, is, therefore, wholly without +foundation in any reality. It is a delusion, which has already driven +us, in a sort of madness, far on the road to ruin. It is, I fear, a +judicial blindness, which the all-wise and righteous Ruler of the +universe has sent upon us for the punishment of our sins. The negro does +not aspire to political or social equality with the white man. He has +evidently no such destiny, no such hope, no such possibility. He is +weak, and constantly becoming weaker; and nothing can ever make him +strong but our continued injustice and oppression. He appeals not to our +fears, but to our compassion. He asks not to rule us: he only craves of +us leave to toil; to hew our wood and draw our water, for such miserable +pittance of compensation as the competition of free labor will award +him--_a grave_. If we deny him this humble boon, we may expect no end to +our national convulsions but in dissolution. If we promptly grant it, +over all our national domain, we may expect the speedy return of peace, +and such prosperity as no nation ever before enjoyed. + + + + +WAS HE SUCCESSFUL? + + 'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one _lives_ + it--to not many is it _known_; and seize it where you will, it is + interesting.'--GOETHE. + + SUCCESSFUL.--Terminating in accomplishing what is wished + or intended.'--WEBSTER'S _Dictionary_. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +We go tack to look a little at the fortunes of the Meeker family. +Twenty-three years have passed since we introduced it to the reader, on +the occasion of Hiram's birth. Time has produced his usual tokens. Mr. +Meeker is already an old man of seventy, but by no means infirm. His +days have been cheerful and serene, and his countenance exhibits that +contented expression which a happy old age produces. + +A happy old age--how few of the few who reach the period enjoy _that_! +Mr. Meeker's life has been unselfish and genuine; already he reaps his +reward. + +Mrs. Meeker, too, is twenty-three years older than when we first made +her acquaintance. She is now over sixty. She still possesses her fair +proportions; indeed, she has grown somewhat stouter with advancing +years. Her face is sleek and comely, but the expression has not +improved. When she wishes to appear amiable, she greets you with the +same pleasing smile as ever; but if you watch her features as they +relapse into their natural repose, you will discover a discontented, +dissatisfied air, which has become habitual. Why? Mrs. Meeker has met +with no reverses or serious disappointments in the daily routine of her +life. But, alas! its sum total presents no satisfactory consequences. +She has become, though unconscious of it, weary of the changeless +formality of her religious duties, performed as a ceaseless task, +without any real spirit or true devotion. Year after year has run its +course and carried her along, through early womanhood into mature life, +on to the confines of age. What has she for all those years? Nothing but +disquiet and solicitude, and a vague anxiety, without apparent cause or +satisfactory object. + +As they advance in age, Mr. and Mrs. Meeker exhibit less sympathy in +each other's thoughts and views and feelings. By degrees and +instinctively the gulf widens between them--until it becomes impassable. +Everything goes on quietly and decorously, but there is no sense of +united destiny, no pleasurable desire for a union beyond the grave. + +The children are scattered; the daughters are all married. Jane and +Laura have gone 'West,' and Mary is living in Hartford. Doctor Frank we +will give an account of presently. George is a practical engineer, and +is employed on the Erie canal. William, who was to remain at home and +manage the farm, is married, and lives in a small house not far off. His +mother would permit no 'daughter-in-law' with her. She did not like the +match. William had fallen in love with a very superior girl, +fine-looking and amiable, but not possessed of a penny. Besides, she +belonged to the Methodist church, a set who believed in falling from +grace! Mrs. Meeker had peremptorily forbid her son marrying 'the girl,' +but after a year's delay, and considerable private conversation with his +father, William _had_ married her, and a small house which stood on the +premises had been put in order for him. What was worse, William soon +joined the same church with his wife, and then the happiness of the +young couple seemed complete. Mrs. Meeker undertook, as she said, to +'make the best of a bad bargain,' so the two families were on terms of +friendly intercourse, but they continued to remain separated. + +Dr. Frank, as he was called, had taken his medical degree, and, by the +indulgence of his father, whose heart yearned sympathetically toward +his firstborn, opportunity was afforded him to spend a year in Paris. +Mrs. Meeker groaned over this unnecessary expense. When she saw that on +this occasion she was not to have her own way, she insisted that the +money her husband was wasting on Frank should be charged against his +'portion.' She never for a moment forgot Hiram's interest. She had +schemed for years so to arrange affairs that the homestead proper would +fall to him, notwithstanding George was to be the farmer. Mrs. Meeker +calculated on surviving her husband for a long, indefinite period. She +was several years younger, and, as she was accustomed to remark, came of +a long-lived race. 'Mr. Meeker was failing fast' (she had said so for +the last fifteen years)--'at his age he could not be expected to hold +out long. He ought to make his will, and do justice to Hiram, poor boy. +All the rest had received more than their share. _He_ was treated like +an outcast.' + +This was the burden of Mrs. Meeker's thoughts, the latter portion of +which found expression in strong and forcible language. For she +calculated, by the aid of her 'thirds' as widow, to so arrange it as to +give her favorite the most valuable part of the real estate. + +There was a fixedness and a tenacity about this woman's regard for her +youngest child that was, in a certain sense, very touching. It could not +be termed parental affection--that is blind and indiscriminating; it was +rather a sympathetic feeling toward a younger second self, with which, +doubtless, was mingled the maternal interest. Whatever touched Hiram +affected her; she understood his plans without his explaining them; she +foresaw his career; she was anxious, hopeful, trembling, rejoicing, as +she thought of what he must pass through before he emerged rich and +powerful. + +Hiram visited home but seldom. Even when at Burnsville, he came over +scarcely once in three months. Often, when expecting him, his mother +would sit by the window the whole afternoon, watching for her son to +arrive. Many a time was supper kept hot for him till late into the +night, while she sat up alone to greet him; but he did not come. I +hardly know how to record it, but I am forced to say that Hiram cared +very little about his mother. Could he have possibly cared much for +anybody, he would probably for her, for he knew how her heart was bound +up in him. He knew it, and, I think, rather pitied the old lady for her +weakness. His manner toward her was all that could be desired--very +dutiful, very respectful. So it was to his father. For Hiram did not +forget the statement of his Sunday-school teacher, which was made when +he was a very young child, about the 'commandment _with promise_.' Thus +his conduct toward his parents was, like his conduct generally, +unexceptionable. + +For Frank, the eldest, however, Hiram felt a peculiar aversion. It was a +long time before the former entertained any other feeling for his +'little brother' than one of the most affectionate regard. By many years +the youngest of the family, Hiram, while a child, was the pet and +plaything of the older ones, and especially of Frank, who in his college +vacations took pleasure in training the little fellow, who was just +learning his letters, and in teaching him smart sayings and cunning +expressions. As Hiram grew up and began to display the characteristics I +have already so fully described, Frank, who was quick and sensitive in +his appreciation of qualities, could not, or at least did not, conceal +the disgust he felt for these exhibitions. He took occasion on his +visits home to lecture the youngster soundly. Hiram was not +demonstrative in return, but Mrs. Meeker gave way to undue warmth and +excitement in taking his part. This was when Hiram was at the village +academy. From that time, there was coolness between the brothers, +increased by the total difference of their notions, which ripened in +time to settled aversion. After Hiram went to Burnsville, they did not +meet. Dr. Frank, after spending his year abroad, had returned and +accepted the appointment of demonstrator of anatomy in a medical school +in Vermont. Thence he was called to a chair, in what was then the only +medical college in the city. He was at the time about thirty-six years +old, and a splendid fellow. Enthusiastically devoted to his profession, +Dr. Frank had looked to the metropolis as the field of his ultimate +labors. But he knew the difficulties of getting established, and it was +not till he was assured of a respectable foothold through his +appointment that he ventured on the change. Doubtless the fact of his +having a wife and children made him cautious. Now, however, we behold +him settled in town, zealously engaged with his class at lecture hours, +and making his way gradually in public favor. + +It was with some surprise that, one evening, while making a short call +at Mr. Bennett's, he encountered Hiram, who had just removed to the +city. The brothers had not met for four years. On this occasion they +shook hands with a species of cordiality--at least on the Doctor's +part--while Hiram preserved a bearing of humility and injured innocence. +The Doctor asked his brother many questions. Was he living in town--how +long since he had come to New York--was he engaged with Mr. +Bennett--what was he doing? Hiram returned short answers to these +queries--very short--acting the while as if he were in pain under a +certain infliction. He looked up, as much as to say, 'Now, let me alone; +please don't persecute me.' But the Doctor did not give the matter up. +He invited Hiram to come and see him, and told him, with a smile, to be +sure and let him know if he should be taken sick. Hiram wriggled in his +seat, and looked more persecuted than ever; he replied that his health +was very good, and likely to continue so. The words were scarcely out of +his mouth, before it struck him that such an observation was a direct +tempting of Providence, to trip his heels and lay him on a sickbed for +his boast. So, after a slight hesitation, he added, 'But the race is not +to the swift, brother, and I am wrong to indulge in vainglory about +anything. Life and death are uncertain; none realize it, I trust, more +deeply than I do.' + +'I was in hopes, Hiram, you had quit talking cant,' said Dr. Frank, in a +tone of disgust. 'Take my advice, and stop it, that is, if it is not too +late.' + +He did not wait for a response, but, much to Hiram's satisfaction, rose, +and saying to Mrs. Bennett that he had overstayed his time, bade a rapid +'good evening' to all, and left the room. + +'It is dreadful to feel so toward a brother. It is of no use. I won't +attempt to resist it. The least we see of each other the better--but, +good God, what's to become of him!' Such was the Doctor's soliloquy as +he walked rapidly on. Other thoughts soon occupied his mind, and Hiram +was forgotten. The latter, however, did not forget. The Doctor's rebuke +filled his heart with rage; still he consoled himself with the thought +that his brother was an infidel, and would unquestionably be damned. +Meantime he was forced to hear various encomiums on him from Mrs. +Bennett and her daughters--[Doctor Frank, as we have intimated, was a +brilliant fellow, and in the very prime of life]--and was still further +annoyed by a remark of Mr. Bennett, that 'the Doctor was doing very +well; gaining ground fast; getting some of our best families.' Hiram +departed from the house in an uncomfortable state of mind. All the way +home he indulged in the bitterest feelings: so strong were these that +they found expression in ominous mutterings to himself, among which +were, 'Conceited fool,' 'I hate him,' and the like. + +Suddenly Hiram's thoughts appeared to take a new direction. He stopped +short, and exclaimed aloud: 'What have I done? O God, have mercy on me. +God forgive me!' + +When he reached his room he hastily struck a light and seized his Bible. +Turning the leaves rapidly in search of something, his eyes were at +length fastened on a verse, and he trembled from head to foot, and his +breath nearly failed him, while he read as follows: + + _'But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother + without a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever + shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: + but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell + fire.'_ + +'The very word; oh, the very, very word!' he exclaimed. 'I have said +it--said that word--said 'fool,' and I am in danger of hell fire, if I +do belong to the church. Yes, hell fire--oh-oh--oh, hell fire. I wish +mother was here. I know what I will do. I will write a confession, and +send it to my brother to-morrow. I will abase myself before him. Yes, I +will. Oh, oh, hell fire! What _will_ become of me!' Hiram prayed, a good +portion of the night, for a remission of the awful sentence; the bare +possibility of its being carried out filled him with terror. + +At last, overcome by weariness and exhaustion, he fell asleep. + +He awoke early. He lay several minutes, revolving the last night's +scene. Presently his countenance brightened. He sprang from the bed, and +again turned to the dreaded text, but not with his previous alarm. On +the contrary, he was hopeful. He read the verse over carefully, and said +to him self: 'I am all right, after all. It means whosoever shall say +the word _to_ his brother. I did not make any reply to Frank, much as he +irritated me. I restrained my anger, and suffered humiliation before +him. I may have been too violent in giving utterance to these +expressions, but it is doubtful if I have even incurred _any_ penalty, +for I surely was not angry _without a cause_. God has heard my prayers, +and has relieved my mind in answer thereto. I shan't have to make a +confession either. Glad of that. How he would have triumphed over me!' + +So Hiram went forth to his usual 'duties,' his complacency fully +restored, and his faith confirmed that he was one of the 'elect.' + + +CHAPTER V. + +'Already she guessed who it was!' + +And who _could_ he be--the intelligent, handsome, but, as it would seem, +over-bold young man, who had presumed to place himself so confidently in +her path and interrupt her walk till he had said his say, and then +disappear as abruptly as he came? + +She guessed who. + +The arrival of her father with the guest he was to bring proved she had +divined right. For coming up the avenue, she saw that it was the same +handsome young man she had a little before encountered. And she could +perceive in her father's countenance a glowing look of satisfaction as +the two mounted the steps (Sarah was peeping through the blinds) and +proceeded to enter the house. Before they had accomplished this, +however, the room was vacant. Sarah was nowhere to be found--that is, +for the moment; but in due time she presented herself, and thereupon Dr. +James Egerton--that was his name--was formally introduced to her. + +'I recollect you now,' said Sarah, seriously. 'Your features have not at +all changed, except they seem larger and--' + +'Older, doubtless,' interrupted the young man. 'You, too, have changed, +even more than I; but I knew you the moment my eyes fell on you.' * * * + +Seven years had passed since grievous afflictions befell Joel +Burns--when his wife died and his daughter was stricken low, and he +himself was brought to the very gates of death. The reader has already +been made acquainted with these circumstances, and will scarcely forget +that, when the famous medical man returned to New Haven after visiting +Sarah, he despatched his favorite student, with directions to devote +himself to the case. It is known, too, with what earnestness and skill +the youth--for he was little more than a youth--performed his +responsible duties. + +Here I had thought to take leave of him, but as he has abruptly come on +the stage as a visitor at Burnsville, and as Sarah Burns already +exhibits an incipient interest in the young doctor, I must let the +reader into the secret of his sudden appearance. + + + + +THE UNION. + +VII. + +RHODE ISLAND AND DELAWARE COMPARED. + + +In 1790 the population of Rhode Island was 69,110, and that of Delaware +59,096. In 1860 the former numbered 174,620, the latter 112,216. Thus, +from 1790 to 1860, the ratio of increase of population of Rhode Island +was 152.67 per cent., and of Delaware, 89.88. At the same relative rate +of increase, for the next, as for the last seventy years, the population +of Rhode Island in 1930, would be 441,212, and of Delaware, 213,074. +Thus in 1790, Rhode Island numbered but 10,014 more than Delaware, +62,404 more in 1860, and, at the same ratio of increase, 228,138 more in +1930. Such has been and would be the effect of slavery in retarding the +increase of Delaware, as compared with Rhode Island. (Census Table, +1860, No. 1.) + +The population of Rhode Island per square mile in 1790, was 52.15, and +in 1860, 133.71; that of Delaware, 27.87 in 1790, and 59.93 in 1860. The +absolute increase of population of Rhode Island, per square mile, from +1790 to 1860, was 80.79, and from 1850 to 1860, 20.74; that of Delaware, +from 1790 to 1860 was 25.05, and from 1850 to 1860, 9.76. (Ib.) + +AREA.-The area of Rhode Island is 1,306 square miles, and of +Delaware, 2,120, being 38 per cent., or much more than one third larger +than Rhode Island. Retaining their respective ratios of increase, per +square mile, from 1790 to 1860, and reversing their areas, the +population of Rhode Island in 1860, would have been 283,465, and of +Delaware, 78,268. + +In natural fertility of soil Delaware is far superior to Rhode Island, +the seasons much more favorable for crops and stock, and with more than +double the number of acres of arable land. + +PROGRESS OF WEALTH.--By Census Tables 33 and 36 (omitting +commerce), it appears that the products of industry as given, viz., of +agriculture, manufactures, mines, and fisheries, were that year, in +Rhode Island, of the value of $52,400,000, or $300 per capita, and in +Delaware, $16,100,000, or $143 per capita. That is, the average annual +value of the product of the labor of each person in Rhode Island is +greatly more than double that of the labor of each person in Delaware, +including slaves. This, we have seen, would make the value of the +products of labor in Rhode Island in 1930, $132,363,600, and in +Delaware, only $30,469,582, notwithstanding the far greater area and +superior natural advantages of Delaware as compared with Rhode Island. + +As to the rate of increase: the value of the products of Delaware in +1850 was $7,804,992, in 1860, $16,100,000; and in Rhode Island, in 1850, +$24,288,088, and in 1860, $52,400,000 (Table 9, Treas. Rep., 1856), +exhibiting a large difference in the ratio in favor of Rhode Island. + +By Table 36, p. 196, Census of 1860, the cash value of the farm lands of +Rhode Island in 1860 was $19,385,573, or $37.30 per acre (519,698 +acres), and of Delaware, $31,426,357, or $31.39 per acre. (1,004,295 +acres). Thus, if the farm lands of Delaware were of the cash value of +those of Rhode Island per acre, it would increase the value of those of +Delaware $5,935,385, whereas the whole value of her slaves is but +$539,400. + +But by Table 35, Census of 1860, the total value of the real and +personal property of Rhode Island in 1860, was $135,337,588, and of +Delaware, $46,242,181, making a difference in favor of Rhode Island, +$89,095,407, whereas, we have seen, in the absence of slavery, Delaware +must have far exceeded Rhode Island in wealth and population. + +The earnings of commerce are not given by the census, but, to how vast +an extent this would swell the difference in favor of Rhode Island, we +may learn from the Census, Bank Table No. 34. The number of the banks of +Rhode Island in 1860, was 91; capital, $20,865,569; loans, $26,719,877; +circulation, $3,558,295; deposits, $3,553,104. In Delaware, number of +banks, 12; capital, $1,640,775; loans, $3,150,215; circulation, +$1,135,772; deposits, $976,223. + +Having shown how much slavery has retarded the material progress of +Delaware, let us now consider its effect upon her moral and intellectual +development. + +NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS.--The number of newspapers and +periodicals in Rhode Island in 1860, was 26, of which 18 were political, +6 literary, and 2 miscellaneous. (Census, Table No. 37.) The number in +Delaware was 14, of which 13 were political, and 1 literary. Of +periodicals, Delaware had none; Rhode Island, 1. The number of copies of +newspapers and periodicals issued in Rhode Island in 1860 was 5,289,280, +and in Delaware only 1,010,776, or largely more than five to one in +favor of Rhode Island. + +As regards schools, colleges, academies, libraries, and churches, I must +take the census of 1850, those tables for 1860 not being yet arranged or +published. The number of public schools in Rhode Island in 1850 was 426, +teachers 518, pupils 23,130; attending school during the year, as +returned by families, whites, 28,359; native adults of the State who +cannot read or write, 1,248; public libraries, 96; volumes, 104,342; +value of churches, $1,293,600; percentage of native free adults who +cannot read or write, 149. Colleges and academies, pupils, 3,664. (Comp. +Census of 1850.) The number of public schools in Delaware in 1850, was +194, teachers 214, pupils 8,970; attending school during the year, +whites, as returned by families, 14,216; native free adults of the State +who cannot read or write, 9,777; public libraries, 17; volumes, 17,950; +value of churches, $340,345; percentage of native free adults who cannot +read or write, 23.03; colleges and academies, pupils, 764. (Comp. +Census, 1850.) + +These official statistics enable me then again to say, that slavery is +hostile to the progress of _population_, _wealth_, and _education_, to +_science_ and _literature_, to _schools_ and _colleges_, to _books_ and +_libraries_, to _churches_ and _religion_, to the _press_, and therefore +to FREE GOVERNMENT; hostile to the _poor_, keeping them in _want_ and +_ignorance_; hostile to _labor_, reducing it to _servitude_, and +decreasing _two thirds_ the value of its products; hostile to MORALS, +repudiating among slaves the _marital_ and _parental_ condition, +classifying them by law as CHATTELS, darkening the immortal soul, and +making it a _crime_ to teach millions of human beings to _read_ or +_write_. + + + + +THE CAUSES AND RESULTS OF THE WAR. + + +There are certain theories in regard to the causes of the present war, +which are so generally accepted as to have fortified themselves strongly +in the principle of '_magna est veritas_ et prevalebit.' Theories based, +however, upon facts which have taken their rise long since the true +causes of the war had begun to work, and which, consequently, mistaking +the effect for the cause, are from their nature ephemeral, and farther +from the truth than they were at their origin. Few thinkers have looked +below the surface of the matter, and the majority of Christendom, +ignoring any other past than the few brief years that have rolled over +our national existence, forgetting that great causes oft-times smoulder +unseen for centuries ere they burst forth in effects the more powerful +from their long suppression, shaking the earth with the pent-up fury of +ages--forgetting these things and arguing in the present instance from +the few palpable facts found floating upon the surface of our society, +by a tacit consent lay the burden of the war upon the present generation +and its immediate predecessors. Herein lies the error which blinds the +world as well to the warning of the past as to the momentous issue +involved. + +Where then shall we look for the cause of that antagonism in which North +and South are arrayed--that bitter hostility setting brother against +brother, and father against child, dividing into two separate portions a +nation descended from the same stock, whose archives are one, all whose +associations of a glorious past are the same, and which has hitherto +swept swiftly on to unparalleled wealth and power, seemingly +indissolubly united, and looking forward to the same glorious and +ever-expanding future? Not to the errors in our political system, for no +faults of government could, in a brief century, have produced such an +upheaving of the foundations of society as we now behold--could have +awakened such a thunder peal as is now causing the uttermost corners of +the earth to tremble with dismay. Not to the institution of slavery, for +however great a curse it maybe to our people and soil, however +brutalizing in its tendencies, however unjust to the negro race, and +opposed to all the principles of enlightenment and human progress--of +whatever crimes it may have been guilty, this last and greatest of +crimes cannot be laid at its door: for the bitterness of feeling between +North and South existed long before the agitation of slavery was dreamed +of, and the latter has only been seized upon as the ready means of +accomplishing a greater design. Finally, not to any supposed desire in +the Southern mind of establishing an independent empire of the South, +whose people should be homogeneous, whose individual interests +identical, and whose climate, productions, and institutions should move +on in undisturbed harmony forever. For to this last a motive is wanting. +Under no government that the world has ever known could the South have +enjoyed so much freedom, such unexampled prosperity, such a rapid growth +in wealth and power, in a word, so much real happiness--which is the sum +of all earthly gifts--as under this which they are so earnestly +endeavoring to tear down and blot from the face of the earth. Men's +minds do not eagerly grasp and sternly pursue an abstract idea divorced +from every consideration of self-interest, such as this would be. Even +the greatest of moral principles are indebted to self-interest for their +success, and without it the sublimest of creeds, the loftiest of +principles would soon wither and die for lack of support. With every +blessing that heart could wish in the present, and with no hope through +change of bettering their condition in a practical point of view in the +future, the idea of a great Southern empire, based upon such uncertain +possibilities, would soon have disappeared from the Southern mind, even +if it had ever existed. + +Nay; the true cause is beneath and behind all these, taking its rise +from the very foundations of English society in the dark ages, from the +establishment of classes and distinctions of rank. In English history +this principle reached its culmination in the wars of the Parliament, +that great political tempest which changed the whole destiny and guided +the future of that powerful nation, making it, as it is to-day, the +dominant race of the old world. Its greatest development, however, was +reserved for our day and our land. The England of the subsequent era was +a new government, a new people. She reaped her harvest of good from her +gigantic struggles, and so must we reap our harvest from ours. From the +moment when the first settlers set foot upon our shores our inevitable +destiny was foreshadowed; the seeds of the 'Great Rebellion' were even +then deeply implanted, and all causes have since that day worked +together for its fulfilment. We too must be purified by fire and sword; +and may we not hope that our beloved country may emerge from the +slaughter, the ruin, and the conflagration, more prosperous, more +powerful than ever before, and casting off the slough of impurity that +has for long years been hardening upon her, renovated and redeemed by +the struggle, sweep majestically on to a purer and nobler destiny than +even our past has given promise of, and attain a loftier position than +any nation on earth has yet acquired? + +The intimate relation of the feudal ages, between baron and retainer, +established at first upon principles of individual safety and the public +weal, soon degenerated into that of noble and serf. That which at first +was but an honorable distinction between knight service on the one hand, +and protection and patronage on the other, became, in the course of +time, the baser relation of haughty assumption and oppression on the one +hand, and the most abject servitude on the other. Descended from the +same stern Saxon stock, separated only by purely artificial barriers, by +the fortuitous circumstance of birth, the sturdy peasant could ill brook +the tyranny of the privileged class--those 'lords rich in some dozen +paltry villages.' That stern independence which has ever been the +prominent characteristic of the Saxon mind, revolted at the palpable +injustice of the relation of lord and serf. The aristocracy, on the +contrary, fortified in their arrogance, at a later day, by the irruption +of the Norman nobility, with their French ideas and customs, so far from +yielding to the signs of the times and the light of dawning +civilization, refused to give up one tittle of their assumed +prerogatives, and became even more exacting in their demands, more lofty +in their supposed superiority. Thus was engendered between the two +classes a bitterness of feeling, a spirit of antagonism, that has never +yet disappeared. Patiently did the peasant bide his time, and only when +the tyranny became utterly unendurable did the movement commence which +has swept downward to our time, reiving away one by one the miscalled +privileges of the favored class, bringing, year by year, the condition +of the laborer nearer to the true balance of society. + +This antagonism reached its height in the Cromwellian era, and the men +of those times stand forth upon the page of history as the exponents of +the great principles of civil freedom. The strength of the Cromwellian +party lay in the fact that it was composed almost entirely of the +laboring and the middle classes, the bone and sinew of the land. Then +for the first time in English history the world saw the plebeian pitted +against the aristocrat, and the strife which ensued involved not so much +the question of kingly prerogative and the 'divine right' of monarchs, +as the pent-up feuds of ages--feuds arising from the most flagrant +injustice and wrong on the one hand and forced submission on the other. +This of itself was enough to lend to the contest a character of ferocity +which well might make civilization turn pale. But even this bitterness +was slight compared with that engendered by the _religious_ element of +the war. The history of the world has shown no wars so cruel and bloody, +no crimes so heinous, no hatred so deep seated and abiding as those +produced by religious differences. Strange that it should be so! Strange +that the sacred cause whose province is to develop the purest and +holiest emotions of the soul, should call forth and develop the +fiercest, the darkest, and most unrelenting passions of the human heart! +Yet so it proved in this instance. Their fierce, fanatical enthusiasm +was a powerful element of strength to the Roundheads, which was lacking +to the effeminate, corrupt, and godless Cavaliers. With such an +auxiliary the struggle could not be doubtful; religious fanaticism +carried the day. + +In the years succeeding the Restoration, the evil effects of this +religious antagonism were modified by mutual concessions, and in time +almost disappeared under the impartial administration of a government +founded upon a firmer basis than ever before, and more consonant to +Saxon ideas of justice and social equality. But with us of America there +was no such modification, for from the midst of this time of war and +tumult, of savage hatred and unrelenting persecution, American society +sprang. Our country was settled by representatives of these two extremes +of English society, and in their choice of abode the hand of Providence +is distinctly seen laying the foundations of our struggle of to-day, +which is to prove the refining fire, the purification and regeneration +of our race. Had the Cavaliers landed upon the shores of New England, +the bracing winds of that northern clime, the rugged and intractable +nature of the soil, the constant presence of dangers from the fiercer +Indian tribes of the north, and the absolute necessity of severe and +incessant toil to support existence, would have awakened and developed +in them those manly qualities which for centuries had lain dormant in +their souls--would have imparted new strength to their frames, new vigor +and energy to their modes of thought; their indolence and effeminacy +would soon have passed away, and they would have constantly approached, +instead of departing from the true Puritan type. While, on the other +hand, the stern, rough, almost savage peculiarities of the Puritan would +in like manner have been modified by the genial influences of a southern +sun and a teeming soil, and while the severe training and rough +experiences of centuries, as well as their peculiar mental constitution, +would have prevented their entirely lapsing into the indolence and +effeminacy of the Cavalier, the whole race would nevertheless have +undergone a softening change, bringing them in their turn nearer the +type of their old antagonists; and thus each succeeding year would have +seen these two extremes of social life drawing nearer and nearer +together, and at last blending in dull, contented, plodding harmony. And +the result would doubtless have been the degeneration of the entire +race, and our fate that of the Spanish American colonies. + +But this did not suit the designs of Providence. It was His purpose that +there should be here those manifold social and political conflicts which +are the life of a great nation--which are, indeed, the motive power to +the wheels of human progress. A great problem in human destiny was here +to be wrought out; a powerful nation was to arise, bearing within itself +the elements of its own continual purification. The Cavalier landed +upon the shores of Virginia, and spread his settlements southward. The +influence of climate upon both the physical and mental constitution of +man is well known. The enervating climate of the 'sunny South,' the soil +fruitful beyond a parallel, pouring forth its products almost +spontaneously, and, above all, the 'peculiar institution,' which +released the planter from the necessity of toil, all tended to aggravate +the peculiarities of mind and body which the settlers inherited from +their ancestors; and the result has been a race which, while it presents +here and there an example of brilliant, meteoric genius, is, in the +main, both intellectually and physically inferior to the hardy denizens +of the North and West. The same influences have fostered the +aristocratic notions of the early settlers of the Southern States. With +every element of a monarchy in their midst, the Gulf States have long +been anything but a republic. De Bow, when, a few years since, he +broached in his Review the idea, and prophesied the establishment of a +monarch in our midst, was but giving expression to a feeling which had +long been dominant in the Southern heart. All their institutions, +associations, and reminiscences have tended steadily to this result, and +in the event of the success of the rebellion, it needs but some bold +apostle to take upon himself the propagation and execution of the plan, +to make the idea a startling reality. And herein lies the secret of the +sympathy of the English aristocracy with the confederates in their +struggle for independent existence. + +The Puritan, guided by the hand of God, planted his future abode on the +shores of New England, a land truly congenial to him, whose whole mental +and physical life had hitherto been one of storm and tempest. Nor could +a fitter type in the human race have been found than he to tame the +rock-crowned hills, to brave the rigors of such winters as Old England +never knew, and the lurking dangers at the hands of a powerful and +jealous race. Here was no place for indolence and luxurious ease. Only +by the most persevering and painful labors could the bleak hills and +gorge-like valleys be made to yield the fruits of life. Only by +unremitting energy and the most patient self-denial could starvation be +kept from his door, while constant watchfulness and never-flinching +courage were required to ward off the many dangers that beset his path. +Nature herself seemed pitted against him to contest every inch of his +progress. But his nature was as stern and rough as that of the land he +had come to tame. Accustomed to move steadily on in the pursuit of some +one great purpose, to surmount every obstacle and crush every +impediment, looking neither to the right nor the left, nor even pausing +to pluck the flowrets that bloomed by the wayside, there was for him no +such word as fail. Here the unbounded resources and exhaustless energy +of body and mind found fitting scope. What to ordinary men would seem +but hopeless, cheerless toil, was to him but pastime. The Puritan was +just the man for New England, and New England the land for the Puritan. +How he succeeded let all Christendom proclaim, for his works were not +for himself nor his immediate posterity, but for the whole world. + +But it is not so much with the results of his labors that we have to do +as with their effects upon himself and his posterity. Here, as in the +case of the Cavalier, every circumstance of his life tended to aggravate +the hereditary peculiarities of his class. The success of his +enterprise, the crowning of those hopes which had led him to cast off +all ties of the old world, the lofty spirit which induced him to reject +all external aid, and, above all, the crisp, free mountain air he +breathed, begot in him a feeling of independence and superiority, and, +at the same time, ideas of social equality, which have made themselves +manifest to all time. Where all were toilful laborers, and few possessed +more than a sufficiency of worldly goods to provide for the necessities +of the day, there was no room for the distinctions of rank. Power, with +them, resided in the masses; the results of their labor were common +stock; their interests were one and the same. Add to these facts their +ancient hatred of the aristocracy, and we have the influences Under +which New England has ever tended to republicanism. The Puritan race has +ever been republican to the core, and this is one great and vital +respect in which they have continually diverged from their Southern +brethren. + +Yet with, all their virtues, with all their sublime heroism, was blended +an inordinate, morbid selfishness. Shut in within their little republic +from all Communion with the outer world, lacking the healthful +influences of conflicting ideas and that moral attrition which polishes +the cosmopolitan man, enlarging his views of life and giving broader +scope as well to the active energies of the soul as to the kinder +sympathies and benevolent sensibilities of the heart, this little +community became more set in their traditional opinions, and gradually +imbibed a hearty contempt for all beyond the pale of their own religious +belief, which soon extended to all without the bounds which +circumscribed their narrow settlements. Living alike, thinking alike, +feeling alike, placing under solemn ban all speculations in religion, +and even all research into the deeper mysteries of natural science, +grinding with iron heel the very germ of intellectual progress, in their +blind presumption they would have closed the doors of heaven itself upon +all mankind save the called and elected of the Puritan faith. This +intellectual life was one of mere abstractions, and as a natural +consequence all their thoughts and emotions, their joys and sorrows, +their loves and hatreds, became morbid to the last degree. But the bent +bow will seek release; the reaction came at last, and the astonishing +mental progress of the New England of to-day, the wild speculation upon +all questions of morals and religion, rivalling in their daring scope +the most impious theories of the German metaphysicians, which our New +England fosters and sustains, and above all, the proverbial trickery of +the Yankee race, are but the reaction of the stern and gloomy tenets of +that olden time which would have made of our earth a charnel house +crowded with mouldering bones. + +In the midst of this intensely morbid Puritan life, no more eligible +object could have been presented for the exercise of their bitterest +antipathies than the descendants of their ancient enemies, the +Cavaliers,--who were already rivalling them in the South, and who, as we +have shown, were equally ready to cast or lift the gauntlet. Occupying +the very extremes of religious faith, radically differing in their views +of public polity, of bitterly hostile antecedents and traditions, the +one looking upon the other as an outcast from salvation itself, and the +other in its turn nothing loth brands its opponent with the epithets of +surly, hypocritical, psalm-singing knaves, then as now, and as they have +ever been since the foundations of our country were laid, these two +classes stood arrayed against each other in every respect save that of +open, carnal warfare. The bitterest of foes in the beginning, +diametrically opposed in every possible respect, each has plodded on in +his own narrow path, and the two paths have continually diverged to our +day, and the present outbreak is but as the breaking of a sore which has +long been ripe. It is of such antagonisms that nations are made: it is +but differences such as these that have separated the common stock of +Adam into so many distinct races and nationalities through all the ages +of the world. Such a result we see to-day in our country, in two +separate and distinct nations, hitherto nominally united under one form +of government--nations as distinct as ever were the Roman and the Greek. +As the Cavalier of the Cromwellian era was a horror to the pharisaical +Puritan, and the Puritan in his turn a contempt and an abomination to +the reckless, pleasure-hunting Cavalier, so to-day is the +'psalm-singing, clock-peddling Yankee' a foul odor to the fastidious +nostrils of the lordly Southerner, and the reckless prodigal, dissipated +and soul-selling planter a thorn in the flesh of Puritan morality. The +Yankee is to the Southerner a synonym for all that is low and base and +cunning, and the Southerner is to the Yankee the embodiment of all +worthlessness and crime. The same spirit is observable in those Northern +States which were settled by a mixed emigration from both portions of +the country, and the fact is well known that even in those loyal Western +States where the Southern element most predominates, is found the +bitterest hatred and denunciation of the Yankee; so that he is no sage +who draws the line east and west, north and south, and in every mixed +community, between the descendant of the Cavalier, and the man of +Puritan stock. Shall any one say that this is but the result of the war? +Where then does history record a like instance? Where can be found the +record of a civil war where the people, descended from a common stock +and bound together by a common interest, sprang with such alacrity to +the call to arms, and waged a war so relentless and cruel even in its +very commencement, except there had been radical antagonisms existing +through a long series of years? + +But it may be urged that a large portion of the Southern population are +emigrants from the New England States, and consequently of Puritan +descent, and that while this very class of slaveholders are notoriously +the most cruel and exacting of masters, they stand in the front ranks of +secession and are the most deadly enemies of the North. True, but the +enmity of this class, wherever it exists, is that of the most sordid, +unprincipled self-interest. Gold is their god, and all things else are +sacrificed to the unhallowed lust. But this enmity is oftentimes assumed +from motives of self-preservation. Objects of suspicion to the +Simon-Pure Southerner from the very fact of their nativity, and visited +with the most horrible retribution wherever they have shown a leaning +toward the land of their birth, they find it necessary to out-herod +Herod in order to preserve their social status and the possessions which +are their earthly all. Hence, to disarm suspicion, often those have been +made to take the more prominent positions in this tragic drama who, did +circumstances permit the expression of their true sentiments, would be +found to be at heart the most truly loyal citizens of the South. Another +class--and this includes more particularly the descendants of Northern +emigrants--born and bred among the moral influences of Southern society, +imbibing all the ideas and prejudices of their surroundings, lose their +identity as effectually as the raindrop is lost in the surging billows +of the ocean. Drinking in with their years the prevailing hatred of the +very stock from which their own descent is derived, they become part and +parcel of the people among whom their lot is cast, and ordinarily run to +the farthest extreme of the new nationality. Herein is seen the fallacy +of the ancient maxim--_Coelum, non animum mutant qui trans mare +currant_. The all-potent influence of self-interest, the overshadowing +sway of undisputed dogmas, soon sweep away the lessons and prejudices of +earlier years, and effectually transform the foreign born into the +citizen of the new clime and nation. Were the population of the South +more equally divided between the Northern and Southern born, this would +not be the case; but in all the slave-holding States the Cavalier +element so overwhelmingly predominates as to crush before it all +opposing ideas, prejudices, and opinions. + +This radical antagonism, smouldering for years, found its first great +expression in the Tariff question of 1832, which was not so much a +question of State rights and agricultural interests as the vehicle, or +rather the weapon of the pent-up hatred of years. General Jackson saw +the true bearing and origin of the dispute; and when he prophesied that +the slavery question would be the next issue sprung by the designing +revolutionists of the South, he did but show his appreciation of the +great fact of the moral and physical antagonism between the descendants +of the Cavalier and the Puritan. He might, and probably would, had +circumstances required it, have gone farther, and prophesied, that +should the slavery question in its turn be settled, some other cause of +dispute would soon be found and grasped by the apostles of separation +and revolution, as a means for the accomplishment of their great design. +He alone, of all our statesmen, with his far-seeing eye saw and +appreciated the tremendous issue involved. He was sternly opposed to the +compromise which was subsequently made, well knowing that if the +question were not then settled, at once and forever, the flame was but +smothered for a time, to break out again in future years, with far +greater vehemence. His policy was to crush the malcontents by the strong +arm of power, to make such a display of the strength and resources of +the Federal Government, such an example of the fate which must ever +await treason in our midst, and, above all, such a convincing +manifestation of the utter hopelessness of all attempts to destroy a +great and good government, deriving its powers and functions from the +people themselves, as to put forever at rest the machinations of +traitors and anarchists. Experience has shown that he was right, and +shown us, too, that if, in this our day, a second compromise be adopted, +and a peace patched up upon a basis ignoring the true cause of dispute, +or of oblivion to the past, or, worst of all, of yielding, on our part, +one jot or tittle to the demands of our antagonists, as sure as there is +a God in heaven--as sure as that retribution follows the sinner, the war +will have to be fought over again, more savage, more bloody, and more +desolating than ever, by our posterity, if not even in our own time. +Fought over again, not once, but again and again, as often as the +revolving wheel of human progress and enlightenment shall bring to the +surface the black waters of the steaming cesspool below. + +But what of the result? Watchman! what of the night? The night is stormy +and dark; men's hearts are failing them for fear; those who see clearly +in the day time, now grope helplessly in the dark; the blind are leading +the blind; society is at a stand still, waiting and watching for the +coming day. Yet afar off in the east the patriot's eye may even now see +the first faint streaks of that light which shall usher in the golden +dawn. + +The result, in the event of the success of the North, is too palpable to +require a moment's thought, involving, as it does, every possible +blessing to our race, every advantage to the progress of the new +theories of social equality, and of man's capacity for self-government. +But what in the other event? The evils would be legion--countless in +number and direful in effect, not to us alone, but to the whole American +race. First and foremost is that hydra _precedent_. We are fighting, not +alone for the stability of any particular form of government, not alone +for the sustaining of an administration, not alone for the upholding of +those God-given ideas which have made America the most favored land on +earth; but against a PRECEDENT, which involves and would destroy them +all. Precedent which is, and ever has been, all powerful to overturn +theories and systems, to topple kings from their thrones, and plunge +nations into slavery. Of all dangers which every liberal form of +government has to shun, none is so deadly as this. Grave and venerable +judges, sages though they may be, rest upon it, and thereon base +decisions involving millions of property, and sometimes life itself. And +though, as Blackstone has declared, a bad precedent in law is +comparatively harmless, inasmuch as succeeding judges are in no wise +bound by it, but free, and in fact bound to decide the law as it was +before the evil precedent was established, and to interpret it as it +ought to be, yet in national affairs this is not so. No matter how bad +or absurd a precedent may be, designing men will be found in all ages +and climes to avail themselves of it, honestly or dishonestly. Men's +minds are not constructed alike, and that which seems evil to one is to +another good. The foulest of all theories, the basest of systems, the +most suicidal of policies, will at all times find sincerely honest +adherents and supporters. Individuality of mind admits a million of +shades and degrees of right and wrong. Moreover, an idea once broached +before the people, no matter how detestable it may at first appear, is +already halfway advanced upon the road to execution. Thousands of +criminals have been executed for crimes their minds would never have +conceived save for the suggestion of some artful apostle of evil. Give +me but a precedent once firmly established, I care not how bad it may +be, and I shall revolutionize the world. + +And what is the precedent against which we have to contend? It is that +of separation. If secession would stop where it has begun, if the result +of our defeat were to be but two great republics of the North and South +upon our continent, there would still be room for the development of +both, and we might even look forward to such a peace with some degree of +complacency, and with hope for a future of happiness and prosperity. But +it will not stop here. As surely as that an overruling Providence +directs the affairs of men, the movement will go on until there are as +many separate and hostile republics as there are States in our Union. +The mutterings of separation--which have already been heard in the West, +are but the precursors of the storm which can only be forever allayed by +the triumph of our arms in the present contest. The slightest +disagreement between the East and the West would soon be made a pretext +for secession: the least dispute or conflicting interest between any two +great portions of our country would find a speedy remedy in separation. +The West would divide from the East, the Atlantic States from the Lake +States, the Mississippi States from the Pacific, the North Pacific +States from the South Pacific, and where would be the end? Already the +great West has learned her own gigantic strength, which before she knew +not that she possessed, and if the time should come when her interests +should apparently point in a different direction from those of the East, +with such a precedent before her, would she not avail herself of that +new-found strength? Already the soldiers of the West have begun to sneer +at the achievements of those of the East, and to consider themselves the +braver and the manlier of the two. Are these not the signs of the times? +And do they not betoken a future of anarchy in the event of the +establishment of this most pernicious and monstrous of doctrines? + +And is it to be expected that these many republics, monarchies, +aristocracies, or whatever form they may take, will long remain at peace +with each other? Ask the muse who presides over the pages of history how +often has her pen been called upon to record the circumstance of +separate nations, of the same blood and antecedents, lying quietly and +peaceably beside each other. Family quarrels are proverbially the most +bitter of all on earth, and family hatreds the most unrelenting. It was +but the ties of kin that lent such a character of ferocity to our wars +with England and to the present contest with the South. + +But what shall we say of that scheme which aims at a reconstruction of +the Union by leaving New England out? Simply this: that, aside from any +considerations of policy--without attempting to argue the question of a +good or evil result from such a movement, the answer is plain enough: +_you cannot do it_--and that which is impossible needs no argument for +or against. The energy and activity of mind and body, the lofty +independence, the firm self-reliance, the dogged determination and +undaunted adherence to a great and high purpose, of the whole Saxon +race, is concentrated in the people of that mountain land. Theirs have +been the heads to plan and the hands to execute every great work we have +accomplished since the foundation of our nationality. The railroads and +canals and telegraphs of the North, the South, the East, and the West +are their work; and their capital and their inventive, energetic minds +still shape and control every great commercial enterprise of our land. +Their sturdy emigrants have pushed civilization across the boundless +prairies of the West, and opened the primeval forests of the Pacific +States. Go where you will on the face of the earth, and you find them +there before you, and ever the same busy, tireless apostles of progress, +the leaders in every great work, and the rulers of commerce, everywhere +looked up to as the type of the executive mind, and, by the tacit +consent of Christendom, intrusted with the guidance of every enterprise +requiring pluck, perseverance, and ceaseless activity. And theirs will +still be the brains to control the destinies of our race, however +isolated they may become, however they may be made the objects of +distrust and contempt. Ay! shut them out if you will, and from that +moment New England becomes the Switzerland of America, the home of great +ideas and great men, the temple where Freedom shall take up her +everlasting abode, and the altar fires of Liberty shall never die away. +And her people will become the priests of that great religion which, +taking its rise in a lofty appreciation of the true end of human +existence, is already bursting out all over the Christian world, in +fitful flames, which shall yet become the devouring element that shall +wither and consume away oppression and kingcraft from the face of the +earth. Shut her out, then, if you will, but you cannot shut out the +flame which she shall kindle; you cannot shut out the tones of her +trumpet voice, proclaiming to the world the doctrines of eternal truth. +Self-reliant, possessing within themselves every element of success, her +people can and will make their way, as heretofore, alone and unaided. +Asking no favors of the world, they will pursue the even tenor of their +way, undisturbed by the mutterings and growlings of their impotent foes, +while their little republic, like a city set upon a hill, continues to +reflect from her glittering pinnacles the sunlight of heaven to all +quarters of the earth. The petty vengeance which the disunionists of +to-day are attempting to wreak upon her will recoil upon their own +heads, and they themselves may yet be forced some day to look to little +New England as their redeemer from anarchy. A purely commercial people, +her interests are not circumscribed by her narrow geographical limits, +but are, as well as her tastes and sympathies, cosmopolitan. She +stretches out her feelers to all parts of the earth, wherever her +wandering sons may have betaken themselves, and fastens there a little +vine or creeper whose roots are still in her own bosom. It is a part and +a necessity of her very existence, to handle and direct catholic +interests. This, as well as her position in other respects, has made her +the arbiter of this nation and country, and you can no more shut her out +from participation in the affairs of this continent than you can shut in +the mighty river from its outlet to the ocean. And if you cut her off, +see to it that she does not become the little Rome whose conquering arms +shall reduce all the nations of the continent to her sway. + +No! New England has planted herself too deeply in the hearts of the +American people--she has sprinkled too many of her scions among the +population of the West and South--to allow of a moment's serious thought +of cutting her off from our communion. The cry is but the party cry of +the designing and evil disposed, the traitors to our name and nation; +and with the crushing out of the rebellion and the restoration of our +nationality; it will pass away forever. + +But to return to the direct results of the war. Having shown the +threatened evils of separation, our province leads us no farther, for +this comprises _all_ the evils within the scope of man's imagination. +See, then, the issue involved: in our success lie all our hopes of +future stability and prosperity; in our failure lies simply--inevitable +ruin. With such a prospect before them--with existence itself hanging in +the balance--why are the people of the North asleep? Why will they not +see the true bearings of the war in this light, and arise in all their +power and strength, determined to crush out this infamous rebellion, +even at the cost of the last dollar and the last drop of blood! Shall we +grumble at the cost of the war? Shall we growl over the paltry taxes +which, even yet, are scarcely felt? Shall the father grieve for the loss +of half his wealth which goes to redeem his only son from death--his +'darling from the power of the lions'? Shall the house-holder grumble +over the reward he has offered for the rescue of his wife and little +ones from the burning house? Shall the felon begrudge the last cent of +his earthly possessions that purchases his relief from the gallows? +Better that we should all be ruined--better that the land should be +entirely depleted of its youth, and the country irretrievably in debt, +with a prospect of a future and lasting peace, than a compromise now, +with the inevitable certainty of everlasting war and tumult and +bloodshed, worse, a thousand times worse than that of the South American +States. Shall we make a peace now, only that we may again go to war +among ourselves? Would this not be literally 'jumping out of the frying +pan into the fire'? The _war_ men of the North are the men of peace, and +the so-called peace men are the men of eternal war; those are they who +would prolong the miseries of our country, simply by turning them in a +new direction--by turning all our hostilities into our own bosoms and +against out own wives and children. Nay I there can be no pausing now. +We have everything to gain by prosecuting the war to the bitter, even +ruinous end; everything to lose by leaving the work half done. The South +is said to be fighting for its very existence; yet not by a thousand +degrees can this be as truly said of them as of us. Therefore should our +earnestness, our enthusiasm, our determination, our _desperation_ be a +thousand times greater than theirs. Do you tell me that we cannot +conquer so united, so brave, and so desperate a people? I answer, WE +MUST. In the whole wide world of human destiny there is no other road +left open for us; the path to defeat is blocked by our own dead bodies. +Unless the people of the North arouse and take hold of the work with an +energy, an earnestness of purpose, to which the past bears no parallel, +too late will they repent the folly of their own supineness, their own +blindness. As in the affairs of men, so in those of nations, there is a +critical point when those who hope for success must seize the winged +moment as it flies and work steadily on with singleness of aim and +unchangeable, unfaltering devotion of purpose. That moment, once past, +will never return. Now is our golden opportunity, and according as we +improve or neglect it will our future be one of greatness and power or +one of utter nothingness among the nations of the earth. No subsequent +time can repair the errors or failures of to-day. + +Since the greater part of this article was written, the prospect of our +success has immeasurably brightened. But let us not by the fairness of +the sky be lulled into a false sense of security; let us not be again +deceived by the _ignis fatuus_ glare which plays around our banners, and +which has already so often lured us to forgetfulness and defeat. For the +storm may again break forth in a moment when we think not of it, and +from a quarter where we seemed the most secure. A single week may +reverse every move upon the great chess board of strategy. There should +be no relaxation of the sinews of war until the end is accomplished. So +should we be safest in our watchfulness and strength, and, by the +irresistible influence of overwhelming numbers and might, render that +permanent which is now but evanescent. + +But, it will be asked, if there is between North and South an antipathy +so deep seated and of such long standing, how shall we ever succeed in +conquering a lasting peace? how shall we ever persuade the people of the +South to live in amity with a race so cordially hated and despised? The +question has often been asked, but always by those faint-hearted ones +whose clamors for a disgraceful peace have added strength to the cause +of our opponents. The answer is so plain that it requires no +demonstration. There is but one remedy for so sore a disease, and +however severe it may be, however revolting to the tender sensibilities +of peace-loving men, the inevitable and inexorable MUST urges +it on to execution, and stands like a giant, blocking up every other +path. It is like those dangerous remedies which the physician applies +when the patient's recovery is otherwise utterly hopeless, and which +must result either in recovery or in death by its own agency rather than +that of the disease. Concession has been tried in vain, 'moral suasion' +has been proved to be of no avail. The South must be shown how entirely +hopeless must be every effort, in all time, to overturn such a +government as ours. They must be made to feel our immense superiority in +power and resources; they must be shown in unmistakable colors the +unconquerable might of nationality in strong contrast with the weakness +of sectionalism, as well as their own dependence upon the North; in a +word, every atom of resistance must be utterly and forever crushed out +by brute force. To no other argument will they listen, as experience has +proved; and this 'last resort of kings' must be exerted in all its +strength and proclaimed in thunder tones, even though its reverberations +should shake the earth to its very core. This done, and peace once more +established, the South must be, _not_ abolitionized, not colonized, not +Puritanized, nor yet oppressed, but AMERICANIZED. They must be +familiarized with those immortal principles of justice and freedom, to +which they have hitherto been strangers, which lie at the heart of all +national success among an enlightened and Christian people. They must be +made acquainted with the all-important fact that we are a nation of one +blood, one common ancestry; that we can never live at peace as separate +nationalities, and that only in unity and mutual concession and +forbearance can a glorious destiny be wrought out for our common +country. _Then_, not now, will be the time for conciliation on our part, +but yet conciliation never divided from the utmost vigilance and a firm +support of the doctrine of national supremacy, as opposed to, and +paramount to the iniquitous dogma of State rights. The people of the +North must first divest themselves of all prejudices, all hereditary +antipathies, and wipe away old scores in the dawn of a golden future. +Then will our brethren of the South not be slow to respond to the +proffered peace and good will and brotherly kindness, and again we +shall become a prosperous, united, and happy people. + +And what a future lies before our country! What a wealth of uncultivated +fields lies waiting for the plough of the adventurous emigrant! What +unmeasured wilds wait but for the touch of enlightened and educated +labor, to blossom like the rose, to become the site of great cities and +smiling villages, the resting place of the wanderer from all quarters of +the globe, the residence of a great people, the component parts of a +mighty nation whose parallel earth has not seen since the days of the +creation! It needs but ordinary human foresight to see that here is to +be the fountain head, the permanent abiding place, of four great +interests, with which we shall rule the world: manufactures, grain, +cotton, and wine. The Great West is to feed all Europe with her harvests +of yellow grain; the South, with her cotton interest, is to clothe, not +Europe only, but the world; the Pacific States will be the 'vineland' of +America, furnishing the wherewithal to 'gladden the heart of man,' while +the manufactures of New England and the Middle States shall furnish the +implements of labor to the brethren all over the continent, and turn the +raw material both of the South and of their own sheep-feeding hills into +garments for the toiling millions of America. Here, then, we shall +produce, as no other country can, the great staples of life; and when we +add to them those considerable minor interests which we share more +equally with the rest of the world, namely, wool-growing and _mining_, +as well of the precious ores as of coal and the baser metals, how +stupendous seem our resources, how tremendous the influence we are to +wield among the great human family! And is it a necessity of social life +that these great interests should jar? that political and commercial +antagonisms should spring up between these cumulators of the world's +great stock of wealth, for no better reason than that their hands are +engaged upon a different work, or, rather, upon different branches of +the same great work of production? Nay, verily! So long as we are bound +together by a common tie of country, living and working under the same +laws and institutions, such antagonisms can only exist in the trains of +designing demagogues. So far from conflicting, these great interests +will, from the very nature of the law of exchange, work harmoniously +together, blending the one into the other as perfectly fitting parts of +one concordant whole. One section will play into the hands of another, +sustaining each other from the very necessity of self-preservation; and +each will find in his brother the readiest consumer of the products of +his labor. Only in the event of separation can jealousies, antipathies, +and narrow-minded prejudices spring up between the different sections, +and healthy competition be degraded into low and mercenary jobbing; only +by separation can the onward march of the American race be retarded and +the arm of American industry paralyzed. Accursed, then, be the hand that +aims a blow at the foundations of our fair fabric of Liberty; thrice +accursed he whose voice is raised in the promulgation of those +pernicious doctrines whose end is to lead a great people astray. + + + + +GREAT HEART. + + + Great Heart is sitting beneath a tree: + Never a horse upon earth has he; + But he sings to the wind a hearty song, + Leaves of the oak trees rustling along: + 'Over the mountain and over the tide, + Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + There's many a messenger riding past, + And many a skipper whose ship sails fast; + But none of them all, though he rides or rows, + Flies as free as the heart of Great Heart goes, + Free as the eagle and full as the tide: + 'And over the valley and on let us ride!' + + Many a sorrow might Great Heart know, + Thick as the oak leaves which over him grow + Many a trouble might Great Heart feel, + Close as the grass blades under his heel; + But sorrow will never by Great Heart bide, + Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + 'But tell me, good fellow, where Great Heart dwells?' + In the wood, by the sea, in the city's cells; + Where the Honest, the Beautiful, and True + Are free to him as they are to you; + Where the wild birds whistle and waters glide, + Singing 'Over the valley and on let us ride!' + + Few of his fellows doth Great Heart see; + Seldom he knows where their homes may be; + But the fays of the greenwood are still on earth-- + To many a Great Heart they'll yet give birth; + And thousands of voices will sing in pride, + 'All over the wide world and on let us ride!' + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES + + +LIFE OF CHOPIN. By F. LISZT. Published by F. Leypoldt: +Philadelphia. + +Liszt's Life of Chopin! What a combination of names to wing the +imagination upward into the ethereal regions of beauty, pure art, and +lofty emotion! The imperial pianist discourses upon the genius and +peculiar gifts of his brother musician. Before us arises a vision of the +strong and fiery Hungarian, with clanger of steel, flash of spur, and +ring of hoof, compelling his audiences to attention and enthusiastic +admiration; and also of the gentle-mannered and suffering, but no less +fiery Pole, shrinking from all rude contact, and weaving enchanted +melodies and harmonies, teeming with ever-varying pictures of tender +love, hopeless despair, chivalric daring, religious resignation, +passionate pleading, eloquent disdain, the ardor of battle with the +thunder of artillery, the hut of the peasant with its pastoral +pleasures, and the assemblage of the noble, the distinguished, the +beautiful, with the nameless fascinations of feminine loveliness, the +witching caprices of conscious power,--while through all and above all +glows the memory of the glorious past and mournful present of his +beloved country. The book, in fact, opens a vista into modes of life, +manners of being, and trains of thought little known among us, and hence +is most deeply interesting. The style is eminently suited to the +subject, and the translation of Liszt's French is equal to the original. +This is saying much, but not too much; for when a cognate mind becomes +thoroughly imbued with the spirit of an author, the transmutation of his +ideas into another form of speech becomes a simple and natural process. +To those who already know Chopin and are striving to play his music, +this book will be invaluable, as giving a deep insight into the meaning +and proper mode of rendering his compositions. To those who know nothing +of him, and who are still floundering amid the _fade_ and flimsy +productions that would fain hide their emptiness and vulgarity under the +noble name of music, this life of a true musician will reveal a new +world, a new purpose for the drudgery of daily practice, and the +expenditure of time, patience, and money. + +The work, however, is not alone useful for those especially interested +in music, but, being free from all repulsive technicalities, will be +found highly attractive to the general reader. It contains a subtle +dissection of a deeply interesting character, sketches of Heine, George +Sand, Eugene de la Croix, Mickiewicz, and other celebrities in the world +of literature and art, together with a most vivid portraiture of social +life in Poland, a land which has ever excited so much admiration for its +heroism, and compassion for its misfortunes. + +Mr. Leypoldt, the enterprising publisher of this work, merits the +encouragement of the American people, inasmuch as he has not feared to +risk the publication of a work deemed by many too excellent to be +generally appreciated by our reading community. He however has faith in +the good sense of that community, and so have we. + +Fragmentary portions of Liszt's 'Chopin,' about 60 pages out of 202, +were translated by Mr. Dwight of Boston, and appeared in the 'Journal of +Music.' Those portions were favorably received, and all who thus formed +a partial acquaintance with the work will doubtless desire now to +complete their knowledge, especially as some of the most vivid and +characteristic chapters were omitted. + + +MY DIARY NORTH AND SOUTH. By WILLIAM HOWARD RUSSELL. +T. O. H. P. Burnham. New York: O. S. Felt, 36 Walker Street. 1863. +(Cloth, one dollar; paper covers, fifty cents.) + +It is amusing to read over, at this stage of the war, these letters, in +which the Thunderer, as represented by Mr. Russell, dwindled down to a +very small squib indeed. Few men ever prophesied more brazenly as to the +war,--very few ever had their prophecies so pitiably falsified. Other +men have guessed right now and then, by chance; but poor Russell +contrived, by dint of conceit and natural obtuseness, to make himself as +thoroughly ridiculous to those who should review him in the future as +was well possible. It is, however, to be hoped that these letters will +be extensively read, that the public may now see who and _what_ the +correspondent really was, through whom England was to be specially +instructed as to the merits of this country and its war. When we +remember the advantages which poor Russell enjoyed for acquiring +information, his neglect of matters of importance seems amazing--until +we find, in scores of petty personal matters and silly egotisms, a key +to the whole. He is a small-souled man, utterly incapable of mastering +the great principles involved in this war,--a man petrified in English +conceit, and at the end of his art when, like a twopenny reporter, he +has made a smart little sneer at something or somebody. He writes on +America as Sala wrote on Russia, in the same petty, frivolous vein, with +the same cockney smartness; but fails to be funny, whereas Sala +frequently succeeds. He came here to write for England, not the truth, +but something which his readers _expected_. His object was to supply a +demand, and he did it. He learned nothing, and returned as ignorant, so +far as really _understanding_ the problems he purposed to study, as he +came. Those who can penetrate the depths of such pitiful characters +cannot fail to feel true sorrow that men should exist to whom all life, +all duty, every opportunity to tell great truths and to do good, should +simply appear as opportunities to turn out a _piece de manufacture_, and +earn salaries. Mr. Russell could have done a great work in these +letters--he leaves the impression on our minds that in _his_ opinion his +boots and his breakfast were to him matters of much more importance than +the future of all North America. + + +WANDERINGS OF A BEAUTY: A Tale of the Real and Ideal. By +MRS. EDWIN JAMES. New York: Carleton. 1863. + +An entertaining little romance, which will be specially acceptable to +the 'regular English novel' devourers--a by no means inconsiderable +proportion of the public. Its heroine--a beauty--moves in English +society, is presented to the Queen, is victimized by a rascally husband +or two, and visits America, where she ends her adventures--_a la Marble +Faun_--rather more obscurely than we could have wished, by 'enduring and +suffering,' but on the whole happily, so far as sentiment is concerned. +As the story contains to perfection every element of the most popular +English novels of the day, yet in a more highly concentrated form than +they usually present, we have no doubt that its sale will be very great. +The volume contains a very beautifully engraved portrait-vignette, +'after a miniature by Thorburn,' which is worth the price of the book, +and is neatly bound. Gentlemen wishing to make an acceptable gift to +novel-reading friends will find the 'Wanderings of a Beauty' well suited +to the purpose. + + +THE PRISONER OF STATE. By D. H. MAHONEY. New York: +Carleton. 1863. + +We may well ask 'what sustains the hopes of the rebels?' when such a +mass of treason as this wretched volume contains is suffered to be +freely published and circulated. That the Administration can find the +force to oppose open foes in the field, and yet make no exertion to +suppress traitors at home who are doing far more than any armed rebels +to reduce our country to ruin, is a paradox for whose solution we have +for some time waited, _not_ by any means in patience. + +That a Copperhead, who from his own account richly deserves the halter, +should have the impudence to publish a complaint of being simply +_imprisoned_, is indeed amusing. But could the mass of vindictiveness, +sophistry, and vulgarity which these pages contain be simply submitted +to impartial and intelligent men, we should have little dread of any +great harm resulting from them. Unfortunately this Copperhead poison, +with its subtle falsehoods and detestable special pleading, its habeas +corpus side-issues and Golden-Circle slanders, is industriously +circulated among many who are still frightened by the old bugbear of +'Abolition,' and who, like the majority in all wars whatever, have +accustomed themselves to grumble at those who conduct hostilities. Such +persons do not reflect that a great crisis requires great measures, and +that in a war involving such a tremendous issue as the preservation of +the Federal Union and the development of the grandest phase which human +progress has ever assumed, we are not to give up everything to our foes +because Mr. Mahoney and a few congenial traitors have, justly or +unjustly, been kept on crackers and tough beef. When a city burns and it +is necessary to blow up houses with gunpowder, it is no time to be +talking of actions for trespass. + +If we had ever had a doubt of the rightfulness of the course which +Government has taken in imprisoning Copperheads, it would have been +removed on reading this miserable book. A man who holds on one page that +every private soldier is to be guided by his own will as regards obeying +orders, and on another sneers at our army as demoralized,--who calls +himself a friend of the Union, and is yet a sympathizer with the enemies +of the Union,--who abuses in the vilest manner our Government and its +officers in a crisis like the present, is one who, according to all +precedents of justice, should be richly punished under military law, if +the civil arm be too weak to grasp him. It was such Democrats as +Mahoney, who yelled out indignantly in the beginning at every measure +which was taken to protect us against the enemy, who, when they had +nearly ruined our cause by their efforts, attributed the results of +their treason to the Administration, and who now, changing their cry, +instead of clamoring for more vigor against the rebels, boldly hurrah +for the rebellion itself. It is strange that they cannot see that they +are now bringing themselves out distinctly as tories, and men to be +branded in history. Do they suppose that such a revolution as this--a +revolution of human rights and free labor against the last great form of +tyranny--is going _backward_? Do the events of the last thirty years +indicate that Southern aristocracy and Copperhead ignorance and evil are +to achieve a final victory over republicanism? Yet it is in this faith, +that demagoguism will be stronger than a great principle, that such men +as Mahoney write and live. + + +WILD SCENES IN SOUTH AMERICA; or, Life in the Llanos of +Venezuela. By DON RAMON PAEZ. New York: Charles Scribner, 124 +Grand Street. + +The work before us takes the reader not only through all the adventures +and chances of the desperate life of the llaneros or herdsmen of South +America, but also gives many startling scenes from the revolutions of +Colombia, embracing an excellent biography of the truly great general +Paez, the friend and colleague of Bolivar. But when we remember that it +contains such a mass of valuable historical material, from the pen of a +son of General Paez, aide-de-camp to his father, and an eyewitness of, +or actor in, some of the bloody scenes of a civil war, and that even the +description of herdsman's life is filled with deeply interesting +scientific records of the natural history and botany of our southern +continent, it seems strange that such a volume could appear under a +title smacking of the veriest book-making for the cheap Western market. + +The writer, Don Ramon Paez, who was born among the people whom he +describes, and was afterward well educated in England, was probably the +best qualified man in South America to depict the life of the llaneros, +of whom his father was long the literal chief. Half of his pages are +occupied with the account of a grand cattle-hunt, involving sufferings +and adventures of a very varied and remarkable description, giving the +world, we believe, the best account of wild herdsman American-Spanish +life ever written. A very curious study of the character of the writer +himself is one of the many interesting traits of this volume. A love of +literature, of science, of much that is beautiful and refined, contrasts +piquantly with occasional glimpses of true Creole character, and of a +son of 'the best horseman in South America,' who is too much at home +among the fierce people whom he describes to fully assume the tone of a +foreigner and amateur. In this latter respect Don Ramon seems to have +been influenced by regarding as models the works of European travellers, +as well as by a very commendable spirit of modesty; for modest he +certainly is when speaking of himself, when we consider the temptations +to self-glorification which his adventures would have presented to any +of the English adventurers of the present day! + +The book cannot fail to be extensively read, since it is not only +entertaining, but instructive. Its sketches of the _causes_ of the +continual civil wars in South America are not only explanatory, but may +serve as a lesson to us in this country to give ourselves heart and soul +to the Union, and to crush out treason and faction by every means in our +power. If the rebels and Copperheads triumph, we shall soon see the +United States reduced to the frightful anarchy of South America. + + + * * * * * + + +THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY. + + +The readers of the CONTINENTAL are aware of the important +position is has assumed, of the influence which it exerts, and of the +brilliant array of political and literary talent of the highest order +which supports it. No publication of the kind has, in this country, so +successfully combined the energy and freedom of the daily newspaper with +the higher literary tone of the first-class monthly; and it is very +certain that no magazine has given wider range to its contributors, or +preserved itself so completely from the narrow influences of party or of +faction. In times like the present, such a journal is either a power in +the land or it is nothing. That the CONTINENTAL is not the +latter is abundantly evidenced _by what it has done_--by the reflection +of its counsels in many important public events, and in the character +and power of those who are its staunchest supporters. + +Though but little more than a year has elapsed since the CONTINENTAL was +first established, it has during that time acquired a strength and a +political significance elevating it to a position far above that +previously occupied by any publication of the kind in America. In proof +of which assertion we call attention to the following facts: + +1. Of its POLITICAL articles republished in pamphlet form, a +single one has had, thus far, a circulation of _one hundred and six +thousand_ copies. + +2. From its LITERARY department, a single serial novel, "Among +the Pines," has, within a very few months, sold nearly _thirty-five +thousand_ copies. Two other series of its literary articles have also +been republished in book form, while the first portion of a third is +already in press. + +No more conclusive facts need be alleged to prove the excellence of the +contributions to the CONTINENTAL, or their _extraordinary +popularity_; and its conductors are determined that it shall not fall +behind. Preserving all "the boldness, vigor, and ability" which a +thousand journals have attributed to it, it will greatly enlarge its +circle of action, and discuss, fearlessly and frankly, every principle +involved in the great questions of the day. The first minds of the +country, embracing the men most familiar with its diplomacy and most +distinguished for ability, are among its contributors; and it is no mere +"flattering promise of a prospectus" to say that this "magazine for the +times" will employ the first intellect in America, under auspices which +no publication ever enjoyed before in this country. + +While the CONTINENTAL will express decided opinions on the +great questions of the day, it will not be a mere political journal: +much the larger portion of its columns will be enlivened, as heretofore, +by tales, poetry, and humor. In a word, the CONTINENTAL will be +found, under its new staff of Editors, occupying a position and +presenting attractions never before found in a magazine. + + +TERMS TO CLUBS. + + Two copies for one year, Five dollars. + Three copies for one year, Six dollars. + Six copies for one year, Eleven dollars. + Eleven copies for one year, Twenty dollars. + Twenty copies for one year, Thirty-six dollars. + +PAID IN ADVANCE. + +_Postage, Thirty-six cents a year_, TO BE PAID BY THE SUBSCRIBER. + + +SINGLE COPIES. + +Three dollars a year, IN ADVANCE. _Postage paid by the Publisher._ + +JOHN F. TROW, 50 Greene St., N. Y., PUBLISHER FOR THE PROPRIETORS. + +[Symbol: hand] As an inducement to new subscribers, the Publisher offers +the following liberal premiums: + +[Symbol: hand] Any person remitting $3, in advance, will receive the +magazine from July, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing the whole of +Mr. KIMBALL'S and Mr. KIRKE'S new serials, which are alone worth the +price of subscription. Or, if preferred, a subscriber can take the +magazine for 1863 and a copy of "Among the Pines," or of "Undercurrents +of Wall Street," by R. B. KIMBALL, bound in cloth, or of "Sunshine in +Thought," by CHARLES GODFREY LELAND (retail price, $1 25.) The book to +be sent postage paid. + +[Symbol: hand] Any person remitting $4 50. will receive the magazine +from its commencement, January, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing +Mr. KIMBALL'S "Was He Successful?" and Mr. KIRKE'S "Among the Pines," +and "Merchant's Story," and nearly 3,000 octavo pages of the best +literature in the world. Premium subscribers to pay their own postage. + + + + +[Illustration: THE FINEST FARMING LANDS +Wheat Corn Cotton Fruits & Vegetables] + +EQUAL TO ANY IN THE WORLD!!! + +MAY BE PROCURED + +~At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE,~ + +Near Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of +Civilization. + +~1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80, 120, 160 Acres and upwards, in +ILLINOIS, the Garden State of America.~ + + * * * * * + +The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the +beautiful and fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their +Railroad, 700 MILES IN LENGTH, upon the most Favorable Terms for +enabling Farmers, Manufacturers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for +themselves and their families a competency, and a HOME they can call +THEIR OWN, as will appear from the following statements: + + +~ILLINOIS.~ + +Is about equal in extent to England, with a population of 1,722,666, and +a soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of the +Mississippi offers so great an inducement to the settler as the State of +Illinois. There is no part of the world where all the conditions of +climate and soil so admirably combine to produce those two great +staples, CORN and WHEAT. + + +~CLIMATE.~ + +Nowhere can the industrious farmer secure such immediate results from +his labor as on those deep, rich, loamy soils, cultivated with so much +ease. The climate from the extreme southern part of the State to the +Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis Railroad, a distance of nearly 200 +miles, is well adapted to Winter. + + +~WHEAT, CORN, COTTON, TOBACCO.~ + +Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, and every variety or fruit and vegetables is +grown in great abundance, from which Chicago and other Northern markets +are furnished from four to six weeks earlier than their immediate +vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton & St. Louis Railway and the +Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, (a distance of 115 miles on the Branch, +and 136 miles on the Main Trunk,) lies the great Corn and Stock raising +portion of the State. + + +~THE ORDINARY YIELD~ + +of Corn is from 50 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep +and Hogs are raised here at a small cost, and yield large profits. It is +believed that no section of country presents greater inducements for +Dairy Farming than the Prairies of Illinois, a branch of farming to +which but little attention has been paid, and which must yield sure +profitable results. Between the Kankakeee and Illinois Rivers, and +Chicago and Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147 +miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Spring Wheat, Corn, &c., are +produced in great abundance. + + +~AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS.~ + +The Agricultural products of Illinois are greater than those of any +other State. The Wheat crop of 1861 was estimated at 85,000,000 bushels, +while the Corn crop yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the +crop of Oats, Barley, Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, +Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clover, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco, +Sorgheim, Grapes, Peaches, Apples, &c., which go to swell the vast +aggregate of production in this fertile region. Over Four Million tons +of produce were sent out the State of Illinois during the past year. + + +~STOCK RAISING.~ + +In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advantages are presented for +the extension of Stock raising. All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules, +Sheep, Hogs, &c., of the best breeds, yield handsome profits; large +fortunes have already been made, and the field is open for others to +enter with the fairest prospects of like results. DAIRY FARMING also +presents its inducements to many. + + +~CULTIVATION OF COTTON.~ + +_The experiments in Cotton culture are of very great promise. Commencing +in latitude 39 deg. 30 min. (see Mattoon on the Branch, and Assumption +on the Main Line), the Company owns thousands of acres well adapted to +the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family of young +children, can turn their youthful labor to a most profitable account in +the growth and perfection of this plant._ + + +~THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD~ + +Traverses the whole length of the State, from the banks of the +Mississippi and lake Michigan to the Ohio. As its name imports, the +Railroad runs through the centre of the State, and on either side of the +road along its whole length lie the lands offered for sale. + + +~CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS, DEPOTS,~ + +There are Ninety-eight Depots on the Company's Railway, giving about one +every seven miles. Cities, Towns and Villages are situated at convenient +distances throughout the whole route, where every desirable commodity +may be found as readily as in the oldest cities of the Union, and where +buyers are to be met for all kinds of farm produce. + + +~EDUCATION.~ + +Mechanics and working-men will find the free school system encouraged by +the State, and endowed with a large revenue for the support of the +schools. Children can live in sight of the school, the college, the +church, and grow up with the prosperity of the leading State in the +Great Western Empire. + + * * * * * + +~PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT--ON LONG CREDIT.~ + +80 acres at $10 per acre, with interest at 8 per ct. annually on the +following terms: + + Cash payment . . . . . . . $ 48.00 + Payment in one year . . . 48.00 + " in two years . . . 48.00 + " in three years . . 48.00 + " in four years . . 236.00 + " in five years . . 224.00 + " in six years . . . 212.00 + " in seven years . . 209.00 + + 40 acres, at $10.00 per acre: + + Cash payment . . . . . . . $ 24.00 + Payment in one year . . . 24.00 + " in two years . . . 24.00 + " in three years . . 24.00 + " in four years . . 118.00 + " in five years . . 112.00 + " in six years . . . 106.00 + " in seven years . . 100.00 + + * * * * * + +Number 18. 25 Cents. + + +THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY. + +DEVOTED TO + +Literature and National Policy. + +JUNE, 1863. + +NEW YORK: JOHN F. TROW 50 GREENE STREET (FOR THE PROPRIETORS). HENRY +DEXTER AND SINCLAIR TOUSEY. WASHINGTON, D. C.: FRANCK TAYLOR + +CONTENTS.--No. XVIII. + + The Value of the Union. By William H. Muller, 633 + + A Merchant's Story. By Edmund Kirke, 642 + + May Morning, 657 + + The Navy of the United States, 659 + + Three Modern Romances, 667 + + Mill on Liberty. By Hon. F. P. Stanton, 674 + + Cloud and Sunshine, 687 + + Is there Anything in It? 688 + + The Confederation and the Nation. By Edward Carey, 694 + + Reason, Rhyme and Rhythm. By Mrs. Martha Walker Cook, 698 + + The Buccaneers of America. By William L. Stone, 703 + + Virginia, 714 + + Visit to the National Academy, 715 + + Was He Successful? By Richard B. Kimball, 719 + + How Mr. Lincoln became an Abolitionist By S. B. Gookins, 727 + + Cost of a Trip to Europe, and how to go Cheaply, 730 + + Touching the Soul. By Egbert Phelps, 1st Lieutenant + 19th Infantry, U. S. A., 734 + + Literary Notices, 744 + + Editor's Table, 747 + +The July No. of the Continental will contain articles by the Hon. +ROBERT J. WALKER, written from England. + +All communications, whether concerning MSS. or on business, should be +addressed to + +JOHN F. TROW Publisher, 50 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK. + +ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by +JOHN F. TROW, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United +States for the Southern District of New York. + +JOHN F. TROW, PRINTER. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. +V, May, 1863, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 19099.txt or 19099.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/9/19099/ + +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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