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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, 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 Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, January 1844
+ Volume 23, Number 1
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19383]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+
+Knickerbocker,
+
+
+OR
+
+
+NEW-YORK MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
+
+
+VOLUME XXIII.
+
+
+NEW-YORK:
+PUBLISHED BY JOHN ALLEN, NASSAU-STREET.
+1844.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+A.
+
+ Apostrophe to an Old Hat. By J. G. SAXE, 69
+ A Lady on the Rights of Women, 79
+ A Second Ralph Ringwood, 81
+ Ascent of Mount Ætna. By THOMAS COLE, 103
+ A Night on the Prairie. By a Buffalo Hunter, 114
+ A Winter Trip to Trenton Falls, 133
+ A Veritable Sea-Story. By HARRY FRANCO, 151
+ A Few Hints on the Philosophy of Size, 156
+ American Manners and American Literature, 180
+ An Apostrophe to Health, 217
+ Anacreontic. By 'G. H. H.', 275
+ A Christmas Carol in Prose, 276
+ American Ptyalism: 'Quid Rides?' 288
+ A Pilgrimage to Penshurst. By C. ALEXANDER, Esq., 307
+ A First Night of Racine. By FLANEUR, 345
+ Apostrophe to Time. By Miss MARY GARDINER, 353
+ An Alligatorical Sketch, 361
+ Address and Poem at Boston, 387
+ A Brace of 'Pellets' from Julian, 391
+ A Dream. By JOHN WATERS, 432
+ A Piscatorial Eclogue, 46
+ A Picture by Murillo, 503
+ A Song. By JOHN WATERS, 516
+ Autobiography of the Prairie Hermit, 557
+ A Dream of Youth, 561
+ A New Spirit of the Age, 583
+ A Day With the great SEATSFIELD, 584
+ A Thrust with a Two-edged Weapon, 590
+ Another 'Pellet' from JULIAN, 595
+
+
+B.
+
+ Benthamiana, 282
+ Belizarius: A Historical Sketch, 337
+ Birth-Day Meditations, 527
+
+
+C.
+
+ Coronation of George the Fourth, 138
+ Curiosities of Foreign and Domestic Literature, 490
+ CLARK'S Literary Remains, 495, 578
+
+
+D.
+
+ Descriptive Poetry, 1
+ Drawings and Tintings. By ALFRED B. STREET, 387
+ Disguised Derivative Words in English, 570
+
+
+E.
+
+ EDITOR'S TABLE, 78, 180, 283, 389, 499, 584
+ Essay on a Passage in Macbeth. By JOHN WATERS, 153
+ Elementary Treatise on Human Physiology, 178
+ Early Spring at the Homestead, 438
+ English State Trials under the Popish Plot, 447
+ Exhibition of the National Academy of Design, 595
+
+
+F.
+
+ Freedom's Beacon at Bunker-Hill, 132
+ Fragments from the Greek. By 'G. H. H.', 361
+
+
+G.
+
+ Ganguernet: or a Capital Joke, 62
+ GOSSIP with Readers and Correspondents, 83, 192, 289, 396, 505, 599
+
+
+I.
+
+ I Follow: from the French, 145
+ Isabel: the Death of the Young, 218
+ Idyll: in imitation of Theocritus, 323
+ Inscription for a Sarcophagus, 367
+ Italy and the Italians. By J. T. HEADLEY, Esq., 498
+ Impudence of the French, 499
+
+
+J.
+
+ JOSEPH C. NEALE'S 'Charcoal Sketches,' 184
+
+
+K.
+
+ KENDALL'S Narrative of the Santa Fe Expedition, 382
+
+
+L.
+
+ Lines to a Fringed Gentian. By WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, Esq., 28
+ Lines to Death, the Great Conqueror, 44
+ Letter to the Editor from Mr. JAMES JESSAMINE, 58
+ Love's Elysium: from the German, 61
+ Lines to an Evening Cloud, 73
+ LITERARY NOTICES, 74, 170, 276, 382, 490, 578
+ Lines to Time. By Mrs. J. WEBB, 113
+ Life's Young Dream, 119
+ Life: a Sonnet, 159
+ Lines to J. T. of Ireland. By C. W. DAY, Esq., 169
+ Life and Times of the late WILLIAM ABBOTT, 187
+ Lines sent with a Bouquet. By PARK BENJAMIN, Esq., 211
+ Legend of Don Roderick. By WASHINGTON IRVING, 262, 324, 418
+ Literary Record, 305
+ Lines with a 'Floral Messenger,' 534
+ Lines written under a portrait of Jupiter and Danäe, 430
+ Lines to my Sister. By R. S. CHILTON, 472
+ Legend of the Subjugation of Spain. By WASHINGTON IRVING, 572
+ Lines by Prof. Plutarch Shaw, of Tinnecum, 577
+ Life in the New World. By SEATSFIELD, 581
+
+
+M.
+
+ Mexico as it was and is. By BRANTZ MAYER, Esq., 77
+ Music, Musicians, Musical Critics, and Ole Bull, 80
+ Mr. CHEEVER'S Lectures on the Pilgrims, 388
+ MARY MAY: the Newfoundland Indian, 523
+ Mental Hygiene. By WILLIAM SWEETSER, M. D., 581
+ Magazine Writing, 589
+
+
+N.
+
+ Night and Morning. By 'POLYGON', 257
+ Night-Thoughts: to BLUMINE, 436
+ North-American Review for the April quarter, 492
+
+
+O.
+
+ Old reflections on the New Year, 78
+ One Reading from Two Poets. By JOHN WATERS, 218
+ On Rivers and Other Things. By do., 349
+
+
+P.
+
+ Poems of JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 170
+ Professor Shaw, of Tinnecum, 549
+ Poetry and History of Wyoming. By WILLIAM L. STONE, Esq., 382
+
+
+R.
+
+ Reminiscenses of a Dartmoor Prisoner, 146, 356, 517
+ Rêves et Souvenirs, 343
+ Religious Controversy. By 'FLACCUS,' 445
+
+
+S.
+
+ Song of the New Year. By Mrs. R. S. NICHOLS, 25
+ Stanzas suggested by GLIDDON'S Lectures, 29
+ Sketches of East Florida: St. Augustine, 45
+ Sonnet to the Old Year, 53
+ Some Thoughts on the Country, 70
+ Scenes and Scenery in the Sandwich Islands, 77
+ Sicilian Scenery and Antiquities. By THOMAS COLE, 103, 236
+ Some Sentiments on Sonnets, with Sundry Specimens, 283
+ Stanzas to MARY. By Mrs. M. E. HEWITT, 348
+ Stanzas on the Burial of an Infant, 460
+ Stanzas to Niagara. By CLAUDE HALCRO, 489
+ Stanzas to my Three Departed Sisters, 556
+ Stanzas Written in Indisposition. By the late WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK, 569
+
+
+T.
+
+ The Idleberg Papers: a Christmas Yarn, 11
+ Thoughts on Color. By JOHN WATERS, 26
+ The Quod Correspondence, 30, 120, 245, 368, 473, 529
+ Thoughts from Bulwer. By Mrs. M. T. W. CHANDLER, 52
+ The Mail Robber, 53
+ The Æneid of Virgil: with Notes by CHAS. ANTHON, 76
+ The Sacrifice, 127
+ The Death-Bed. By the 'COUNTRY DOCTOR,' 128
+ The Ruins of Burnside. By JAMES LAWSON, Esq., 137
+ The Smithy. By ALFRED B. STREET, Esq., 155
+ Two Pictures: Love Celestial and Love Terrestrial, 160
+ The Hermit of the Prairie, 161
+ Translation from CATULLUS. By Rev. Geo. W. BETHUNE, 166
+ The Painted Rock, 167
+ Thirty Years among the Players of England and America, 175
+ The Study of Woman's Life, 179
+ The American Review, 179
+ The North American Review, for January, 183
+ The Alms-House: a New-England Sketch, 212
+ The Tyranny of Affection, 222
+ The Fratricide's Death, 232
+ The Spectre Imp. By Mr. GEORGE HARVEY, 338
+ The Church Bell, 368
+ The Inner Life of Man. By Mr. CHARLES HOOVER, 389, 599
+ The Floral Resurrection, 417
+ The Dog-Star Spirit: or, Tray's Reflections, 431
+ The Poet Halleck: Epistle to the Editor, 437
+ The Plague at Constantinople in 1837, 511
+ The Song of Death. By MISS MARY GARDINER, 523
+ The Householder. by JOHN WATERS, 528
+ The Hearth of Home, 548
+
+
+V.
+
+ Vicissitudes, 10
+ Voices of Affection, 336
+
+
+W.
+
+ Winter Evening: an Extract. By J. G. PERCIVAL, Esq., 24
+ What is Transcendentalism? 205
+ Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor, 281
+ What is It? A Lover's Query, 489
+
+
+ +-------------------------------------------------+
+ | Transcriber's Note: The page numbers in the |
+ | index convert to issues in the following way: |
+ | |
+ | January, 1844 1-102 |
+ | February 103-204 |
+ | March 205-306 |
+ | April 307-408 |
+ | May 409-510 |
+ | June 511-608 |
+ +-------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ T H E K N I C K E R B O C K E R.
+
+VOL. XXIII. JANUARY, 1844. NO. 1.
+
+
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE POETRY.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+Whatever the poets may say, it is incontrovertible that the great majority
+of men look upon the beauties and glories of Nature that surround them
+with almost entire indifference. We shall not inquire whether this is the
+result of a natural incapacity to perceive and admire the beautiful and
+sublime, or whether it is that their impressions are so deadened by
+familiarity as to be passed by unnoticed. Probably the former is the case
+with the greater number; although we cannot believe with some writers,
+that all our ideas of beauty are but the results of association, or of our
+perceptions of the proportion, or fitness, or utility of things. When we
+say that some things are naturally agreeable, and others naturally
+disagreeable, we have said all that we know about the matter; and this
+amounts to nothing more than a confession of our ignorance. Yet, if we
+admit in all men the existence of a natural sense of beauty, daily
+observation shows us that the pleasure arising from it is in most cases
+very feeble and evanescent. How many live in the midst of the most
+magnificent natural scenery, and never perceive its beauties until they
+are pointed out to them by some intelligent traveller! And often if
+admiration be professed, it is of that vague, undistinguishing kind, which
+indicates little knowledge of the causes why they admire. Even among men
+of cultivated tastes, there is much more of affected than real enthusiasm.
+
+If what we have said be true, it is a curious subject of inquiry why
+descriptive poetry has been so popular. How happens it that so many who
+have looked upon Nature herself with great indifference, have been so much
+delighted with the reflection of her image in the pages of the poets? We
+suspect, indeed, that a part of the popularity of this class of writers is
+factitious. THOMSON, the most popular, is we suspect oftener
+purchased than read; and his 'Seasons' are not unfrequently spoken of with
+admiration by those who know little of them but the episodes. The chief
+interest of the 'Task' is to be sought for in other sources than its
+descriptions, notwithstanding the _curiosa felicitas_ of Cowper's diction.
+
+The pleasure which we feel in reading descriptive poetry may perhaps in
+all cases be traced to one of the three following sources: the conception
+in our own minds of objects corresponding in a greater or less degree to
+those which exist in the mind of the poet; the train of associations which
+his language awakens; or the moral interest with which he invests what he
+describes. In the case first mentioned, the emotions we feel are similar
+to those which the sight of the objects themselves would produce; if
+beautiful, of pleasure; if terrible, of awe. A painting, which is an
+accurate representation of nature, regarded irrespective of the skill of
+the artist, would affect us in the same way. But the effects resulting
+from this cause are too inconsiderable to require particular mention. The
+picture which words are able to present is so indistinct and vague as
+rarely to produce any strong emotion. If the objects themselves are
+generally looked upon with indifference, much less can a verbal
+description of them afford us any great degree of pleasure.
+
+The language which the poet uses often suggests to the mind of the reader
+trains of thought and imagery which were never present to his own mind.
+Hence many expressions which are in themselves eminently poetic, will
+arouse associations, oftentimes, that entirely spoil the passage. On the
+other hand, an expression low and vulgar may be ennobled by its
+associations, and give dignity and force to the composition. We not
+unfrequently meet phrases which have great beauty in the eyes of one man,
+which seem flat and insipid in the eyes of another. Every writer who has
+attempted dignified or pathetic composition, has felt how difficult it is
+to avoid those words which will suggest ideas that are unworthy of the
+subject. If, however, the poet is sometimes a loser, he is also sometimes
+a gainer from this cause. The reader often finds in his own associations,
+sources of pleasure independent of the poet. The light that illumines the
+page is but the reflected radiance of his own thoughts, and is unseen by
+all save himself.
+
+But it is in the moral interest with which the poet invests the objects he
+describes, that the chief source of our pleasure is to be found. The poet
+paints Nature, not as she is, but as she seems. He adorns her with beauty
+not her own, and presents her thus adorned to men, to admire and to love.
+It is by interweaving human sympathies and feelings with the objects of
+the material world, that they lose their character of 'mute insensate
+things,' and acquire the power to charm and to soothe us, amidst all the
+cares and anxieties of our life. The intellectual process which here takes
+place is so interesting and important that we shall make no apology for
+treating the subject at some length.
+
+It is sufficiently obvious that an accurate description of nature, or a
+beautiful work of art, is not poetical. On the other hand, in proportion
+as the minuteness of the description is increased, the poetry vanishes.
+The traveller who should give us the exact dimensions of the pyramids, the
+precise height of the terraces, the width and height of the inner
+passages, would give us much more definite ideas of those structures than
+he who should paint to us the effects produced on his own mind by their
+vastness, their antiquity, and the solitude that surrounds them. So in
+descriptions of natural scenery, the geographer who gives us the
+measurement of mountains, and rivers, and plains, is much more accurate
+than he who describes them solely from the picture that exists in his
+fancy. We wish to be rightly understood. We do not mean that vagueness and
+generality are essential to poetical description. As on the one hand,
+mathematical accuracy, by allowing no play to the imagination, produces a
+feeble impression, so on the other the indistinctness arising from
+indefinite expressions is equally unfavorable. But in neither is the
+poetry of the description dependent on the greater or less degree of
+minuteness with which particular objects are spoken of. When Whitbread
+described the Phenix, according to Sheridan's version, 'like a poulterer;
+it was green, and red, and yellow, and blue; he did not let us off for a
+single feather,' he did not fail more egregiously than Thomson in the
+following lines, in which, by the force of language, a flock of geese are
+made highly poetical objects:
+
+ 'Hushed in short suspense
+ The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
+ To throw the lucid moisture trickling off,
+ And wait the approaching sign to strike at once
+ Into the general choir.'
+
+The poet indeed must give us a lively and definite image of the scene or
+object which he undertakes to describe. But how shall this be done? Simply
+by telling us how it appeared to him; introducing those circumstances
+which had the greatest effect on his own imagination. He looks on nature
+neither as a gardener, a geographer, an astronomer, nor a geologist, but
+as a man, susceptible of strong impressions, and able to describe clearly
+to others the objects which affected himself. This he will do in the style
+which the emotion raised within him naturally dictates. His imagery, his
+illustrations, his whole language, will take the hue of his own feelings.
+It is in describing accurately the effect, not the cause, the emotion, not
+the object which produced it, that the poet's fidelity to nature consists.
+Let us illustrate our meaning by two or three examples. In Thomson we find
+the following description of a thunder-storm:
+
+ 'A boding silence reigns
+ Dread through the dun expanse; save the dull sound
+ That from the mountain, previous to the storm,
+ Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood,
+ And shakes the forest leaf without a breath.
+ Prone to the lowest vale, the aërial tribes
+ Descend: the tempest-loving raven scarce
+ Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze
+ The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens
+ Cast a deploring eye, by man forsook,
+ Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast,
+ Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.
+ 'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all,
+ When to the startled eye the sudden glance
+ Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud
+ And following slower in explosion vast,
+ The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
+ At first heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven
+ The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes
+ And rolls its awful burthen on the wind,
+ The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
+ The noise astounds; till over head a sheet
+ Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts
+ And opens wider; shuts, and opens still
+ Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
+ Follows the loosened, aggravated roar,
+ Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
+ Crushed horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.'
+
+MR. IRVING describes a similar scene in the following terms: 'It
+was the latter part of a calm sultry day, that they floated quietly with
+the tide between these stern mountains. There was that perfect quiet which
+prevails over nature in the languor of summer heat; the turning of a
+plank, or the accidental falling of an oar on deck, was echoed from the
+mountain side, and reverberated along the shores. To the left the
+Dunderberg reared its woody precipices, height over height, forest over
+forest, away into the deep summer sky. To the right strutted forth the
+bold promontory of Antony's nose, with a solitary eagle wheeling about it;
+while beyond, mountain succeeded to mountain, until they seemed to lock
+their arms together, and confine this mighty river in their embraces. In
+the midst of his admiration, Dolph remarked a pile of bright snowy clouds
+peering above the western heights. It was succeeded by another and
+another, each seemingly pushing onward its predecessor, and towering with
+dazzling brilliancy in the deep blue atmosphere; and now muttering peals
+of thunder were faintly heard rolling behind the mountains. The river,
+hitherto still and glassy, reflecting pictures of the sky and land, now
+showed a dark ripple at a distance, as the breeze came creeping up it. The
+fish-hawks wheeled and screamed, and sought their nests on the high dry
+trees; the crows flew clamorously to the crevices of the rocks, and all
+nature seemed conscious of the approaching thunder gust. The clouds now
+rolled in volumes over the mountain tops; their summits still bright and
+snowy, but the lower parts of an inky blackness. The rain began to patter
+down in broad and scattered drops; the winds freshened, and curled up the
+waves; at length it seemed as if the bellying clouds were torn open by the
+mountain tops, and complete torrents of rain came rattling down. The
+lightning leaped from cloud to cloud, and streamed quivering against the
+rocks, splitting and rending the stoutest forest trees; the thunder burst
+in tremendous explosions; the peals were echoed from mountain to mountain;
+they clashed upon Dunderberg, and then rolled up the long defile of the
+Highlands, each headland waking a new echo, until old Bull Hill seemed to
+bellow back the storm.'
+
+We think that no one who attentively reads the foregoing extracts can fail
+to see the infinite superiority of the latter over the former, in every
+thing that pertains to a faithful representation of nature. Irving has
+given us the scene just as he saw it, unmixed with any hue or coloring
+with which the mood of his own mind might have invested it. We see the
+objects themselves, disconnected from the associations of the spectator.
+Had there been a thousand persons looking on, each would have heard the
+same sounds, and seen the same sights. There is nothing that is
+extraneous. He has given us an exact copy of his original, and nothing
+more. Thomson, on the contrary, has not described a thunderstorm as he saw
+it, but according to the effect that it produced on his own mind. His
+epithets are rarely descriptive of the qualities that exist in the objects
+to which they are applied. They have reference rather to the emotions
+which their presence produces in himself. Thus, in the first line,
+'boding' is not a quality that can be predicated of silence. To the
+feeling that the silence preceding a storm is wont to excite, the epithet
+is properly enough applied. So with the expression 'dubious dusk.'
+
+In connection with these extracts, we will look at one taken from
+SCOTT'S description of the scenery around Loch Katrine:
+
+ 'Boon nature scattered free and wild,
+ Each plant, or flower, the mountain's child;
+ Here eglantine embalmed the air,
+ Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;
+ The primrose pale, and violet flower,
+ Found in each cleft a narrow bower;
+ Foxglove and night-shade, side by side
+ Emblems of punishment and pride,
+ Grouped their dark hues with every stain
+ The weather-beaten crags retain;
+ With boughs that quaked at every breath,
+ Gray-birch and aspen wept beneath;
+ Aloft the ash and warrior oak
+ Cast anchor in the rifted rock;
+ And higher yet the pine tree hung
+ His scattered trunk, and frequent flung
+ Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high
+ His boughs athwart the narrowed sky.
+ Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,
+ Where glistening streamers waved and danced,
+ The wanderer's eye could barely view
+ The summer heaven's delicious blue.'
+
+The same remarks which we applied to Irving are applicable with some
+little restriction here. With one or two exceptions, the epithets mark
+attributes that exist in the subjects. Every one can see at a glance the
+appropriateness of such terms as _pale_ primrose, _gray_ birch, and
+_narrow_ bower. They are not dependent for their effect upon any fanciful
+train of associations which their names may excite.
+
+If we compare the above extracts together, we arrive at certain results
+which we shall briefly state. We will throw out of view for a moment any
+pleasure which the rhythm may give us, as foreign to our present purpose.
+Each of these writers is describing a scene from nature. Each of them has
+the same object, to interest others by a representation of those sights
+and sounds that interested themselves. Scott accomplishes his purpose by
+presenting as exact a picture of nature as it is possible perhaps for
+words to give. He does not tell us how he is affected by what he sees, and
+looks upon neither directly nor indirectly. He does not search for any
+resemblances that are not palpable, and founded in the nature of things.
+All similes and metaphors which serve to express his own emotions are
+carefully avoided. The whole is picturesque and life-like in the highest
+degree, yet every circumstance is mentioned in the cool, unimpassioned way
+in which we mention any common occurrence.
+
+Thomson accomplishes his purpose by portraying his own feelings; not
+indeed in so many words, but by the use of those expressions, and by those
+transitions of thought, which mark a state of emotion. The epithet
+'boding,' to which we have referred, is an example. It is an indirect
+disclosure of the mood of his own mind. At another time it is not
+improbable that an epithet of a directly opposite meaning would have been
+selected. The reader is affected by it, because by a law of sympathy, we
+are affected by whatever reveals the presence of passion in another. It
+influences us precisely as the tones of the voice of a person in distress
+influence us. Both are expressive of emotion, and we cannot remain
+unaffected by them.
+
+This is the main source of the pleasure we feel in reading Thomson's
+description. It conveys to us but a very indistinct idea of the subject
+matter. Different readers, according to their mental peculiarities, will
+be differently affected by it. He does not paint to the bodily eye, but to
+the eye of the mind; and he will feel most pleasure who puts himself in
+the same position as the poet, and sees with his eyes and hears with his
+ears. Unless he can do this, he will derive but little gratification from
+the perusal.
+
+Less minute than Irving, and more picturesque than Thomson, Scott will
+probably to most readers give more pleasure than either of them. In
+conveying lively impressions of natural objects he is unsurpassed, but he
+is scarcely less successful in inspiring the mind of the reader with the
+same emotions that fill his own breast. There is ever between the thought
+and its expression a perfect harmony. It is only when agitated by passion
+that he uses the _language_ of passion. Hence we never find that timid
+phraseology which so often disgusts us in Thomson; _vox et præterea
+nihil_. No one delights more in the use of figurative language, nor
+employs metaphors that more appropriately convey the sentiment that
+pervades his mind. In the passage we have quoted are the following lines:
+
+ 'Aloft the ash and warrior oak
+ Cast anchor in the rifted rock.'
+
+The poet looking up at the trees firmly rooted in the rifts of the rock,
+defying the tempest and storm, felt an emotion of pleasure which the sight
+of their lofty position, and the apparent danger of their being hurled
+headlong at the first blast of wind, contrasted with the sense of their
+real security, produced. To express this pleasurable emotion, he fastens
+upon the resemblance between a root of the tree and an anchor; a
+resemblance not between the things themselves, but between their uses.
+Neglecting all the points of difference, and confining his attention to
+this single point of similarity, he presents an image which all admit to
+be highly forcible and poetical.
+
+The great merit of all descriptive poetry consists in the unity of feeling
+which pervades it. Unlike the epic, or the drama, it has none of the
+interest which arises from a connected narrative, or the development of
+individual character in reference to a certain end. The poet confines
+himself to the expression of those feelings which are awakened by the
+sight of the beauty and sublimity of nature. Passing, as he necessarily
+must, from one object to another, each fitted to excite in his bosom
+conflicting emotions, his attention is so much diverted, that none of them
+produces upon him its legitimate effect. There is wanting some central
+object of interest to which all others are subordinate. Hence is explained
+the listlessness of which every one is conscious in the continuous perusal
+of the Seasons. We find the greatest pleasure by reading a page here and a
+page there, according to the state of our feelings.
+
+It is never in short poems that the descriptive poets succeed best.
+L'Allegro and Le Penseroso are gems; but all Milton's genius could not
+have made the Paradise Lost readable, were it deprived of its unity as an
+epic, and broken up into a series of detached pictures. The Deserted
+Village of Goldsmith is the longest poem of this class that we now
+remember, having all its parts so pervaded by a common spirit that a
+succession of new objects does not impair the designed effect. Sweet
+Auburn as it was in its palmy days, and as it is in its desolation,
+presents two distinct pictures, yet so closely connected that each
+heightens the effect of the other by the contrast. Nothing can exceed the
+exquisite art with which Goldsmith has seized upon those circumstances
+that tend to make the desired impression, and rejected all others. How
+perfect are each of the following descriptions, and how much would their
+beauty be marred by the transfer of a single circumstance from one to the
+other:
+
+ 'How often have I paused on every charm,
+ The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm;
+ The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
+ The decent church that topped the neighb'ring hill;
+ The hawthorn-bush with seats beneath the shade,
+ For talking age and whispering lovers made.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'The dancing pair that simply sought renown,
+ By holding out to tire each other down;
+ The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,
+ While secret laughter tittered round the place;
+ The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,
+ The matron's glance, that would those looks reprove.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
+ But choked with sedges works its weedy way;
+ Along thy glade, a solitary guest,
+ The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;
+ Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
+ And tires the echoes with unvaried cries;
+ Sunk are thy bowers, in shapeless ruin all,
+ And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall.'
+
+It is by the selection of such objects as have in themselves no common
+bond of union, but which combine to raise a certain emotion, that the
+essential distinction is to be found between the descriptions of the poet
+and the prose-writer. The latter joins objects together as they are joined
+in nature, following a principle of association which is simple and
+obvious. His resemblances are usually such as are cognizable by the
+senses; a likeness in the sensible qualities of things. The poet's
+principle of association is in the effect produced on his imagination.
+Things which have not in themselves a single point of similarity, are
+connected together, because they produce the same emotions of pleasure, or
+pain, or hope, or melancholy. A beautiful illustration of this is found in
+the opening stanzas of Gray's Elegy:
+
+ 'The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
+ The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
+ The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
+ And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
+
+ Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
+ And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
+ Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
+ And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.'
+
+A summer evening in the country is associated in most minds with images of
+mirth and joy. Thus Goldsmith has described it:
+
+ 'Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close,
+ Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;
+ There as I passed with careless steps, and slow,
+ The mingling notes came softened from below;
+ The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung,
+ The sober herd that lowed to meet their young;
+ The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool,
+ The playful children just let loose from school,
+ The watch-dog's voice, that bayed the whisp'ring wind,
+ And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.'
+
+With what consummate skill, if indeed it be not rather the instinct of the
+poet, has Gray avoided all mention of those objects which might awaken
+associations discordant with the mood of his own mind! Each epithet is
+full of a plaintive melancholy. There is not one that does not contribute
+something to the effect; not one that can be omitted; not one that can be
+altered for the better. Yet there is scarcely one that is descriptive of
+any quality actually existing in its subject. The fitness of each is to be
+felt rather than seen.
+
+In the selection of those circumstances and objects which Gray has
+enumerated, he was governed by the effect which each had upon his own
+feelings. He looked upon nature in the reflected light of his own heart.
+He was mournful in view of the destiny of man; and wandering amidst the
+graves of the lowly and obscure, he saw all the external world colored
+with the hue of his own sad thoughts. The melancholy spirit within him
+transformed all things without into its own likeness. His imagination,
+darting hither and thither, and governed in its flight by laws too subtle
+and delicate to be analyzed, reposed itself for a moment amidst the gloom
+of the historical associations that cluster around the curfew, hovered
+over the lowing herd, and followed the ploughman as he homeward plods his
+weary way. Goldsmith, recalling the scenes where he had spent many happy
+hours, looks upon nature under a far different aspect. Every thing to him
+is gay and joyous. He hears not the hollow tones of the curfew, nor the
+drowsy tinklings that lull the distant folds. He sees not the wearied
+ploughman, caring for nought but to forget his toils in the sweet oblivion
+of sleep. He hears but the song of the milk-maid, and the soft response of
+her rustic lover; the watchdog's voice, and the loud laugh of the happy
+idlers. He sees but the children just escaped from school, running and
+leaping, and romping in their innocent glee. Happy himself, he fastens
+upon whatever in nature around him seems to sympathise with him, and
+dwelling fondly upon it, casts away from his thoughts every thing that can
+obstruct the full, free flow of his joyous emotions.
+
+We may remark in passing, what has probably been before remarked by the
+attentive reader, that both Gray and Goldsmith, excited as they are by
+different passions, refer to the 'lowing herd' as raising on the one hand
+a cheerful, and on the other a melancholy feeling. To our thought, the
+associations connected with the return of the herds from the fields at
+sunset are best fitted to awaken that quiet, reflective state of mind
+which is most congenial to the mood of the elegiac poet. To another, these
+associations may be of such a character as to produce a directly opposite
+effect.
+
+The writer of prose who should describe scenes like these, would aim to
+give us a distinct and accurate picture by presenting all their prominent
+features, omitting nothing, and grouping them as Nature herself had
+grouped them. Such descriptions we daily see in all books of voyages and
+travels. Or if the descriptions be of scenes wholly imaginary, their
+essential character is not changed. Although they cease to be real, they
+do not become poetical. The extract which we have made from Irving is not
+poetical. Accurate, vivid, life-like, it is. We cannot read it without a
+feeling of pleasure. We admire the genius of the writer; we wonder at the
+magnificence of the spectacle which, by a few masterly touches, he has
+raised up before us. But there is no more poetry in it than in his
+description of Herr Van Tassel's supper table, covered with all the
+luxuries of Dutch housewifery. It is true, there may be more of beauty and
+sublimity in the scenery of the Hudson, in the gathering clouds and
+muttering thunder, than in the sight of dough-nuts and crullers,
+sweet-cakes and short-cakes, peach pies and pumpkin pies, slices of ham
+and slices of smoked beef; yet the spirit of poetry exists no more in the
+one than in the other. Poetry has its abode in the _heart_ of man; not in
+the winds, in the clouds, in the mountains, or in the vales. It does not
+derive its power from the outward world, but breathes into it its own
+breath of life, investing the earth with a beauty which has no existence
+but in the human soul, and filling the air with sweet harmonies, which are
+unheard save by the inspired ear of the poet.
+
+We have now, we think, sufficiently answered the question, why so many who
+read descriptive poetry with pleasure, look with indifference upon what is
+beautiful or sublime in nature. The poet is to them like one who gives
+sight to the blind. The landscape which formerly lay before their eyes
+unregarded, almost unseen, is now 'beautiful exceedingly.' Nature has not
+changed; they themselves have not changed; yet there _is_ a change. There
+is a glory unseen before, cast over the earth. It is, as it were,
+transfigured before them, and made radiant with celestial light. This is
+the poet's work. With a keener perception of the beautiful and sublime
+than other men; with a greater facility of association, and with the power
+to give to language the hue and intensity of his own feelings, he clothes
+lifeless nature with the attributes of humanity, making it instinct with
+human sentiment and passion. Like Burns, he pours forth his lament over
+the mountain-daisy cut down in its bloom, in a few simple words that find
+a response in the hearts of all men; and henceforth it is embalmed in our
+memories, and shall be as immortal as the star that shines in the far
+depths of the heavens. Like Wordsworth, he wanders upon the banks of his
+native lakes, and mingles his song with the noise of their waters, until
+the faintest whisper of the rippling waves seems but the echo of his
+voice. Wherever he goes fruits, flowers, and herbage spring up in his
+footsteps. A divine Presence goes with him; Nature speaks to him with her
+thousand voices, and he hears, and answers, making sweet music in the joy
+of his heart. Nothing is so inconsiderable as to be without the pale of
+his sympathy; nothing too humble to stir the fountains of love in his
+breast. The solitary flower that blossoms by the way-side, the rivulet far
+away amid the hills, is but the starting point of that wondrous chain of
+thick-coming fancies, that fill his eyes with light, and his ear with
+harmony; as if multitudes of angels were hovering around, and he heard on
+every side the rustling of their wings.
+
+Such are the gifts of the poet. They are God's gifts, and are indeed
+'wonderful in our eyes.'
+
+
+
+
+VICISSITUDES.
+
+
+ Hast thou not been where wild winds, freshly blowing,
+ Brought odorous gladness on each passing gale;
+ Hast thou not been where the pure streamlet flowing,
+ In each soft murmur told a gentle tale:
+
+ As the bright flashing of its gushing water,
+ Glad as the tones of merriment and glee
+ That joyous burst from children in their laughter,
+ Swift dashes onward to the boundless sea?
+
+ Hast thou not been where the enamelled mead
+ Its beauty gave to the enraptured sense,
+ And the crushed lily, from the elastic tread,
+ Yielded its life in breath of sweets intense?
+
+ Hast thou not been in spring-time's early hours,
+ Where the lone bird its short sweet carol gave
+ To the young bursting leaves and budding flowers,
+ Beside some wildly-rushing mountain wave?
+
+ Not such the lay it sings in summer hours,
+ When love beats high within its little breast,
+ And its exulting song it joyous pours,
+ Where thick embowering leaves conceal its nest.
+
+ Hast thou not marked, when autumn's gorgeous glory
+ Fled in the rushing of the hurrying blast,
+ The deep'ning pathos of the moral story
+ Sighed in each cadence, as it onward passed.
+
+ Hast thou not heard the ancient forests, bending
+ To the far sweeping of the mighty wind,
+ Send forth a solemn sound, as though responding
+ To voices deep that secret powers unbind?
+
+ Hast thou not stood where ocean madly raging,
+ Rolled onward as with overmastering shock:
+ 'Till hushed the storm, the chaféd surge assuaging,
+ It gently laved the firm-opposing rock?
+
+ Hast thou not gleaned a lesson to thy reason
+ From winter's fostering power and spring's awakening reign;
+ Summer's brief heat, autumn's maturing season,
+ And learned vicissitudes are not in vain?
+
+ But from the varied page outspread before thee,
+ Garner'd of wisdom for thy fleeting days,
+ Whether the sunshine or the storm be o'er thee,
+ Forward to look with hope, and trust, and praise?
+
+_Newport, Rhode-Island, Dec., 1843._ E. R. G. H.
+
+
+
+
+THE IDLEBERG PAPERS.
+
+A CHRISTMAS YARN.
+
+
+At Christmas every body is or should be happy. The genial influence of the
+season lightens alike the lofty hall and the lowly cottage. It is the same
+at home or abroad, on the land or the billow, in royal purple or in ragged
+poverty; here and every where, to one and to all, it is always 'merrie
+Christmas.' At such a time there is an obligation due from every man to
+society, to be happy, and the more cheerfully it is paid, the better. The
+man who would be found scowling and glowering like a thunder-cloud,
+cherishing his private griefs or animosities at a time when every other
+countenance is glowing with light, and hope, and sunshine, should be
+denied all the charities of humanity, and exiled to Kamschatka, or some
+other inhospitable clime, to growl and fret with the wild beasts, or the
+wilder elements.
+
+How dear is the light of home when glowing with the fires of Christmas!
+What though the elements be wild without, or Jack Frost blow his whistling
+pipe at the door, or fierce winds rumble down the chimney, and tell of
+sweeping gusts and howling storms abroad, if within and around that
+charmed circle is breathed the spirit of kindness and affection! Should
+the titled stranger or the ragged beggar knock, throw wide open the doors
+of thy hospitality; and while prattling infants recount the joys of the
+season, and school-boy striplings pursue their holiday sports, and
+gray-haired men who have traversed the wide world over, tell how in all
+their wanderings they have never passed a Christmas from home; he will
+turn his thoughts with a melancholy pleasure to the distant fireside
+beyond the sea, and to the friends who are gathered there, and wonder
+where the wanderer is spending his Christmas.
+
+With all respect for the ancient and honorable class of 'old bachelors,'
+whose sympathy and good fellowship we most earnestly desire, be it said,
+that if to any it is allowed to be miserable at Christmas, it surely is to
+them. We would not for the world say aught to heighten the sad picture of
+their social desolation, by dwelling on the thousand tender endearments of
+home, the ten thousand cords of love, of which they know nothing. Certain
+it is, that to many of them 'merrie Christmas' brings only pangs of
+remorse; and we have known more than one crusty member of the fraternity,
+who on such occasions would rush incontinently from the scene and the
+sound of merriment, and shut themselves under lock and key, until the
+storm was passed, and people have recovered their lost senses.
+
+Such an one, however, we are proud to say, was _not_ TOM HARDESTY, though
+bachelor he was, in the superlative degree. Every body wondered how he
+managed to preserve his good-humor and vivacity under the frosts of
+three-score winters. At the period of this authentic history, Tom was the
+village grocer; a station he had filled to his own profit and the town's
+convenience until he had become a piece of village furniture, necessary to
+its existence as a corporation. His little store, with its great variety
+of commodities, adapted to every human want, was in itself a perfect
+'curiosity-shop.' Odd-looking boxes, kegs, chests, casks, barrels and
+hogsheads, contained his groceries, drugs and dye-stuffs. A few remnants
+of domestic prints and muslins, together with stray fragments of
+broadcloth, constituted his stock of dry-goods. Then there was a modicum
+of hardware and cutlery; a few spelling-books and new testaments for a
+book store; and sundry jars and bottles filled with fancy-colored powders
+and liquids, for an apothecary shop. His remaining list of commodities was
+made up of hats, caps and bonnets, boots and shoes, tin-pans and
+looking-glasses, slate-pencils and sifters; and as his standing
+advertisement in the village newspaper duly notified the public, 'other
+articles too numerous to mention--call and see for yourselves.' If any
+body desired an article nobody ever heard of before, he could find a large
+lot thereof at Tom Hardesty's; and if any lucky or ingenious wight had
+found or made any thing that nobody else would have as a gracious gift,
+let him call on Mr. Hardesty, and it was the very thing he wanted. In a
+word, his shop was a grand dépôt for every article the ingenuity of man
+could devise, or his necessities require.
+
+What a blessed convenience was Tom Hardesty! How could we have gotten
+along without him? How honest and affable! What long ells and heavy pounds
+he gave! And then his tea! how it inspired the village gossip on long
+winter nights in a chimney corner! All the matrons of the village were
+quite in love with Tom, or his tea; and many an old crone, as she sat
+inhaling cup after cup of the divine beverage, has been known to pause in
+the midst of her inspirations, and exclaim with uplifted hands, 'God bless
+Tom Hardesty!'
+
+And yet Tom Hardesty was a bachelor, and kept 'bachelor's hall.' The only
+members of his mess were an orphan boy of his adoption, who waited in the
+store, and a brindle cat which the master had honored with his own name.
+This point, however, is still wrapt in obscurity, for Tom and 'Tom' were
+both so venerable that nobody could swear whether the cat had been named
+after the master, or the master after the cat. It had been rumored by
+those who should know, that Mr. Hardesty should not be held strictly
+accountable for this sin of celibacy, since he had offered his hand, his
+heart, and a partnership in his worldly goods, to more than one village
+beauty, each of whom had found it impossible to 'love for antiquity's
+sake,' and rejected his matrimonial offers accordingly. Still Tom never
+repined. His daily experience behind the counter had taught him the useful
+lesson, that each applicant does not necessarily always drive a trade, and
+the commodity which one rejects may be eagerly sought by another; and
+acting on the faith of this philosophy, he lived cheerfully on, cherishing
+the hope that even yet some fond heart would beat responsive to his own,
+and promise before the competent authority, to 'love, honor and obey' him,
+Tom Hardesty.
+
+On a memorable Christmas-eve we enter his little counting-room. A cheerful
+fire blazes on the hearth; and at the moment grimalkin is purring on the
+rug. Master John, the adopted, is poring over a picture-book, probably an
+early edition of Peter Parley's Travels, and Mr. Hardesty is standing
+before a broken fragment of looking-glass, diligently brushing his scanty
+locks.
+
+'John!' said Mr. Hardesty, turning from the mirror, and looking full at
+the boy, 'do I look very old to-night?'
+
+The boy turned up his innocent face, gazed steadily on his master from top
+to toe, and answered, 'Sir!'
+
+'Do I look very _old_ to-night, John?'
+
+John scratched his head. 'Not much older than you did this time last
+night, Sir.'
+
+'Humph!' said Mr. Hardesty, appealing to the glass, and renewing his
+efforts with the brush, while John resumed his reading.
+
+'But, John,' resumed Mr. Hardesty, seating himself beside the boy, 'do you
+really think that a middle-aged lady, of right comfortable property, would
+have, _could_ have, any rational objection to be called Mrs. Hardesty?'
+
+'I think not, Sir,' replied John, taking up the cat; 'I'm sure you have
+been very kind to me and old Tom here, and I know you would be so to her.'
+
+'Very true, John,' said Mr. Hardesty, whose feelings were touched by this
+expression of the boy's gratitude; 'but I wish to extend the sphere of my
+usefulness; and I may venture to hope--but don't mention it--that in the
+course of three or four years, or may-be a little longer, there'll be a
+little boy at our house for you to play with; and if it's a girl, John,
+you shall marry her when you get old enough. Eh, John! how would you like
+_that_?' And the old gentleman chuckled himself into a fit of coughing
+that seemed to threaten his longevity, and prevented John's reply to a
+suggestion that had never occurred to him as being within the bounds of
+the most remote possibility.
+
+Having amused himself sufficiently with these flights of his fancy, Mr.
+Hardesty rose from his seat, gave John eighteen-pence for Christmas-money,
+stroked his namesake's back, put on his cloak and cap, and after bidding
+John be a good boy, and not to mention it, and to take care of the fire
+till he came back, left the house on his errand of love.
+
+Christmas eve! Surely the village streets were never so gay before! You
+may know there is a moon, for though the sky is darkened with clouds, and
+the snow is falling as it never fell before, there is a glow of light
+above and around, that would burst on the eye like dim revealings of
+fairy-land, but for the mist that floats through the dim upper air, and
+seems striving to bind the earth as with a mantle.
+
+What a merry, merry Christmas! Gust after gust comes whirling on,
+full-freighted with the virgin snow. There are shouts of revelry that rise
+and fall with the sound of the blast. There are hurried footsteps that
+glide over the crackling snow. There are merry hearts within those
+bounding sleighs, and hands that clasp the hands they love, though wrapped
+in countless furs and muffs. Gay steeds dash on with steaming nostrils, as
+if their toil were sport; and their bells, as they ring cheerily out in
+the sombre night, give promise of marriage-bells to come.
+
+Through all this busy scene Tom Hardesty pressed on, turning neither to
+the right nor left, except when he turned a corner. As the wind dashed the
+driving snow in his face, he drew his cloak more closely around him, and,
+shivering, passed on with cheerful thoughts of love and matrimony.
+Sometimes the boys pelted him with their snowy artillery, or old
+acquaintances inquired after his health, but he glided on like a dim
+shadow, heedless alike of all. By degrees the holiday din of the village
+waxed faint in his ears, and as he approached the suburbs, his heart beat
+fast while his steps were slow with indecision, for he was approaching the
+end of his pilgrimage--the dwelling of Miss Peggy Sidebottom.
+
+While Mr. Hardesty is pausing at the door, stamping the snow from his
+feet, and making the accustomed use of his pocket-handkerchief, we will
+take advantage of his delay to state, briefly, that Miss Sidebottom,
+beside being sole proprietress of the cottage-like mansion aforesaid,
+claimed also among her chattels sundry shares in bank, and certain notes
+of hand, yielding her sufficient income, without calculating the value of
+her personal charms, to make her hand and heart two very desirable items
+of furniture in a bachelor's apartments. Her household consisted of
+herself, and a nephew and niece, christened Dick and Belinda, orphan
+children of a deceased brother. Dick was a wild, rattling scape-grace, as
+ever robbed hen-roost or melon-patch; Belinda was nothing, particularly,
+except a little, quiet, blue-eyed girl, the pride of her aunt, and a
+pattern of propriety to all little girls. That Miss Sidebottom was kind
+and motherly to the two orphans, there is no question; but it was rumored
+that in consideration thereof she enjoyed a comfortable legacy. It is only
+necessary to premise, farther, that Miss Sidebottom had been younger by
+some two-score years than she was that night; that she was one of Mr.
+Hardesty's best customers; and that after long worshipping her across the
+counter, he had suddenly determined to declare his passion with all the
+eloquence he possessed; which was not inconsiderable, as many can bear
+witness.
+
+Mr. Hardesty knocks and is admitted to the hall. Another door is opened,
+and there, in the snuggest corner, and by the snuggest fire conceivable,
+sits Miss Sidebottom. The opposite end of the hearth is decorated by
+Belinda, while a cat is sleeping on the rug between them. It was a picture
+of quiet happiness that touched Mr. Hardesty's heart; and advancing into
+the room, he bows with all the elegance of a Beau Brummel.
+
+Miss Sidebottom turned her eyes upon the new-comer, and as they fell on
+the familiar and smiling countenance of the grocer, she sprang to her
+feet, and exclaimed: 'Why, Mr. Hardesty! I am so glad to see you! Let me
+have your cloak and cap, Sir. Come, be seated; draw near the fire.'
+
+Mr. Hardesty kept bowing all this time with as much nobility as was
+displayed by the famous stick that was too crooked to lie still; and after
+grasping Belinda's hand very affectionately, he seated himself, and drew
+near the fire.
+
+'Dear me! what a night!' said Miss Sidebottom; 'ain't it cold out, Mr.
+Hardesty?'
+
+Mr. Hardesty replied by shivering palpably, and said he had seen colder,
+and he had seen warmer, but it would do. Having said thus much, he
+produced his snuff-box, which he extended to the ladies, and then helped
+himself.
+
+'I am truly glad, Miss Peggy,' continued Tom. 'to see you situated so
+comfortably--I am.' And he smiled tenderly and shifted his chair; but in
+doing so, he infringed on the cat's tail, and the animal, as cats are wont
+to do, squalled vehemently. Mr. Hardesty bounded from his seat.
+
+'Dear me!' exclaimed Miss Sidebotton, 'don't do that!'
+
+'Positively, Madam,' said Tom, 'I am very sorry, indeed--I am!'
+
+'Poor thing!' said Belinda, taking the injured quadruped in her arms;
+'poor thing!--did he hurt its tail?'
+
+''Deed, Madam,' said Mr. Hardesty, stroking the animal's back, 'I wouldn't
+have done that for forty ordinary cats. I may say, Madam, speaking
+metaphorically, that your cat is of the short-horn Durham stock, and
+wasn't made to be trod on.'
+
+'Lor', Sir,' replied Miss Sidebottom, adjusting her cap, 'cats is cats,
+and cattle is cattle--that's my sentiments; but as I was going to say, Mr.
+Hardesty, I was telling Mrs. Jenkins to-night, not an hour ago, that I
+felt a kind of nervous kind of feeling that somebody was coming; and sure
+enough, here comes you. You see, Mrs. Jenkins was here to take tea with me
+to-night, and beside the baby, why her little Jack and Sally and Bill and
+Susan _would_ come, because, they said, pap wasn't at home, and they would
+starve if they staid there. And here, sure enough, come they did, before
+Mrs. Jenkins had fairly pulled off her bonnet; and stay they would, though
+she boxed 'em well; but they didn't mind that, and I told her Christmas
+come but once a year, and as it turned out, the poor things _were_ hungry,
+in yearnest. And you never see children eat so; I do believe they hadn't
+had a good meal for a fortnight. Well, we hadn't got fairly seated after
+supper, when rap! rap! at the door, and there was Jake Crow had come for
+Mrs. Jenkins; for Jenkins had got into a drunken row, and had his head cut
+with a stick. And you never hearn sich a fuss; and Mrs. Jenkins and the
+little brats went home crying all the way; and here me and Belinda have
+been by ourselves ever since. But poor Mrs. Jenkins! I wonder men will get
+drunk and leave their wives and children to starve. _You_ never get drunk,
+Mr. Hardesty, do you?'
+
+'Drunk! Madam, drunk!' said Mr. Hardesty, placing his hand over his heart,
+and shaking his head emphatically. 'No, Madam; I only get what you may
+call intoxicated, and not with liquor neither; and I feel it coming on me
+now--I do indeed!'
+
+'Well, well!' replies Mrs. Sidebottom, holding up her hands in utter
+astonishment, 'I never heard tell of the like of that before. P'raps its
+the cold, Mr. Hardesty.'
+
+'No, Madam,' persisted the old gentleman; 'it's the heat.'
+
+'Dear me! Mr. Hardesty; then I'll open the door.' And Miss Peggy started
+to her feet.
+
+'No, my dear Madam, don't, if you please. It ain't this here fire in the
+hearth, but,' striking his breast passionately, 'it's _here_, Madam.'
+
+'That's just where Mrs. Jenkins is affected sometimes, and she says
+Madeira's the best thing for it; and she has drank nearly all that last
+quart I got of you, Mr. Hardesty, and I don't see as she gets any better.'
+
+'Madeira, indeed!' said old Tom, scornfully. 'Madeira, madam, instead of
+squenching, would only add fuel to the flame that is consuming me. There
+_are_ men as takes to the bottle for it when they despair; but bless your
+soul!' he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper, 'I haven't
+despaired.'
+
+At this eloquent appeal, Mrs. Sidebottom looked at the fire and said
+nothing, until an audible snore from Belinda, who had fallen asleep in her
+chair, aroused her.
+
+'Bless me!' exclaimed Miss Peggy, bouncing to her feet; 'look at the child
+there! Belinda dear, wake up. Poor dear thing! you had better go up stairs
+to bed.' And rubbing her eyes, the child took up a lighted candle, bowed
+politely to Mr. Hardesty, and disappeared behind the stair-door.
+
+Miss Sidebottom resumed her seat and looked again at the fire, and Mr.
+Hardesty looked at Miss Sidebottom. Presently, that amiable lady turned
+her gaze, lighted as it was by an equivocal smile, full upon Tom. In the
+space of about fifteen seconds, after trying in vain to interpret that
+smile to his own satisfaction, Mr. Hardesty quailed, while his heart
+commenced vibrating against his ribs, as though it would burst their
+feeble barrier, and take refuge in his waistcoat-pocket. Miss Sidebottom,
+however, showed no such symptoms of alarm, and her courage rose as Tom's
+fell. By the way, composure in such delicate epochs is like see-sawing;
+one ascends as the other descends, until perchance the weaker party fails
+to recover his equilibrium, and tumbles off the fence. Diffident young
+courtiers should remember this.
+
+Mr. Hardesty was bewildered beyond endurance. How could a man speak more
+plainly? And yet he would try once more.
+
+'Let me tell you, my dear Miss Sidebottom, once for all, I'm----'
+
+There was a noise of some one opening the front door, and as Mr. Hardesty
+turned his head, Dick entered the room.
+
+'Why, Dicky, where have you been this cold night?' asked his aunt.
+
+Dicky replied that he had been snow-balling, of which there were
+sufficient marks on his person. His countenance was flushed and heated,
+and he proceeded to say that he was tired, and wanted to go to bed.
+
+At this Mr. Hardesty rose deliberately from his seat, saying it was time
+to go.
+
+'But, Mr. Hardesty,' urged Miss Peggy, 'it's cold and snowing; stay all
+night there with Dicky,' pointing to a comfortable bed in one corner. 'I
+know you are delicate, and it's snowing hard. I'll go and see. Here
+Dicky,' and she left the room followed by Dick. Mr. Hardesty looked around
+at the comfortable quarters offered him, and determined to remain.
+Scarcely had he come to this decision, when the affectionate aunt and
+nephew returned, the former telling him not to think of going out on such
+a night, and the latter assuring him it was snowing 'like sixty.'
+
+'I'll stay, Madam, and thank'ee too,' said Mr. Hardesty, re-seating
+himself. Miss Peggy bade her guest a very good night, and, threatening to
+catch him for a Christmas gift next morning, disappeared up the stairs and
+locked the door after her. Tom watched her retreating figure until she
+disappeared, and then addressed himself to the boy.
+
+'Been snow-balling to-night, eh, Dicky? Fine sport, Dicky; fine sport.'
+
+'I should say it was, Sir, when your side toes the mark and don't run,'
+said Dick, placing his damp shoes on the hearth. 'Them shoes'll never run
+away with _my_ feet in 'em, certain.'
+
+'Well, Dicky,' continued Mr. Hardesty, stirring the fire, 'you're a brave
+boy.'
+
+'Yes, Sir,' said Dick, 'braver than you think for. Catch me napping when
+there's work to do, and I am to get a pie for it in the bargain, will
+you?' The bare suggestion amused Dick, and as he divested himself of his
+damp clothes, he laughed heartily.
+
+'That's just what I was saying, Dicky, and was going on to add, that
+snow-balling and such like ain't for me now, but the time was when none
+was better at them than I.'
+
+'P'raps not,' said Dick, 'but as I'm rather tired, and don't mind the
+cold, I'll get in and warm the bed, and you can come along when you like;'
+and the light-hearted boy sprang into his nest, and in less than five
+minutes was snoring audibly.
+
+Mr. Hardesty stirred the fire, and as the myriad sparks flew up the
+chimney, he wished he had just so many dollars; he would give them all if
+_she_ would but love him. Growing weary of this delusive sport, he looked
+at his watch, compared it with Miss Sidebottom's yankee clock, and finding
+his own time-piece was just five minutes the faster, concluded that both
+were wrong just two minutes and a half, and he would split the difference.
+He might be mistaken, but if he was he would consult the town clock
+to-morrow.
+
+Mr. Hardesty resumed the poker and stirred the fire until its bright blaze
+threw a broad glare over the chamber; and out of the glowing coals he
+built strange towers and castles, and saw them change by turns into ashes,
+and grow dim like his own recent dreams of love. This being a melancholy
+contemplation, he lent his ear to a solitary cricket that was cheerily
+singing its household song, though the winds were wild without. Presently
+the cricket ceased its chirrup, and Mr. Hardesty growing tired of sitting,
+yawned, stretched himself, and walked to the window.
+
+Outside, the ground was covered with a wild waste of snow, and the heavy
+flakes were still falling. Suddenly it occurred to him that somebody might
+accidentally pass that way and recognize him; so he let fall the curtain
+and walked across the room. Here, lifting his eyes from the floor, a
+looking-glass stared him in the face, and he started back. He turned again
+and walked to the bed-side where Dick was sleeping. The boy, he thought,
+might one day be his nephew, and he revolved in his mind a thousand
+schemes for advancing him in the world and making him a clever fellow.
+
+Mr. Hardesty left the bed-side and looked up at the ceiling. Beyond that,
+he thought, was the adored Miss Sidebottom. What a narrow space sundered
+them! He walked to the fire-place and looked on the mantel for a book. He
+selected an old copy of Burns, and opened at the pathetic ballad of 'John
+Anderson.' Mr. Hardesty sat down and read it once aloud. Then he read it
+to himself over and over again, until he had gotten it by heart. And then
+by degrees the room swam dizzily before him, the fire glowed like a pale
+meteor, his eyes closed heavily, the open book fell from his hand, and Mr.
+Hardesty was asleep.
+
+He slept and dreamed. Smiles like those of sleeping infancy stole over his
+venerable features. In one short moment he was the happiest man alive; his
+love had been crowned with success; and putting forth his hand to grasp
+the dear shadow, he lost his balance and fell from his chair.
+
+Mr. Hardesty looked around him, wondering. He resumed his seat and rubbed
+his eyes. The fire had almost gone out. The wick was long and dim. He
+looked at the clock; it wanted just twenty minutes of midnight.
+
+Mr. Hardesty snuffed the candle and commenced divesting himself of his
+apparel; placed his boots beside Dicky's shoes on the hearth; threw his
+upper garments on the back of a chair, and his nether ditto on the seat
+thereof. But his extremities were cold, he thought, and placing a chair
+bottom upward on the floor, he put his feet to the fire.
+
+For some minutes Mr. Hardesty stared steadily at the ceiling, beyond which
+Miss Sidebottom was sleeping in virgin security; and whether from the
+magnetic effect of his constant gaze, or the slumbrous air that pervaded
+the room, his eyelids soon closed, and he was again soundly asleep. The
+candle burned dimly on; coal after coal was turned to ashes; at last both
+went out, and still Mr. Hardesty slept.
+
+Presently there was a stir in the bed occupied by Dick. The boy rose on
+his pillow and looked cautiously around him. He called Mr. Hardesty, but
+there was no answer. At this Dick put one leg out of bed, and then the
+other, and stood firmly on the floor. Gliding cautiously over the carpet,
+he stooped over the sleeper, whose deep breathing assured him that all was
+safe. Then stepping softly to the chair on which Mr. Hardesty's clothes
+were lying, he selected that gentleman's nether garment, then went to the
+hearth and lifted the boots, and slipping on his own shoes, glided
+cautiously out of the room with his booty. Returning in a few minutes he
+again stooped over the sleeper, and then stole to bed, where, after
+laughing immoderately yet quietly, he was soon as fast asleep as Mr.
+Hardesty himself.
+
+When Mr. Hardesty awoke he found himself still reclining on the back of
+the chair. Not a little vexed with himself for lying there all night, he
+rose to his feet, and looking around, found that Dick had risen before
+him, and the bed was empty. 'Why didn't he wake me, I wonder?' said Mr.
+Hardesty.
+
+Mr. Hardesty walked to the window, lifted the curtain, and looked out. The
+mists and clouds had cleared away, and left the sky all bright and blue.
+The sun had just risen, and was shedding his early splendor on the myriad
+snow-drops as brightly as if to atone for the darkness and gloom of
+yesterday. It was a cheerful and beautiful view; but Mr. Hardesty heard
+the sound of shuffling footsteps overhead; so he turned shivering from the
+window to dress himself for the day. 'It'll never do to be caught in this
+fix,' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+His first search was for his boots, but these had been taken out, as he
+supposed, to be polished. He would put on his breeches and wait for his
+boots. He cast his eye on the pile of clothes, but the breeches were not
+there. Then he looked on the floor, and in all the corners of the room,
+and then on the bed and under the bed--but in vain. 'What the d----l has
+become of my breeches!' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+It occurred to him at length that by some mysterious power of locomotion
+the garment had gotten into the drawer of a bureau that stood in one
+corner. He pulled at this drawer most lustily, but it was locked, and Miss
+Sidebottom had the key. To add to his discomfiture, he again heard the
+sound of footsteps overhead. He had but a moment to spare, and looking
+around for a place of retreat, his eye fell on a closet-door that opened
+beneath the stairs. Putting on hastily the remnant of his apparel, he
+presented altogether an appearance the like of which the writer has never
+seen, and will not attempt to describe, and managed to effect his retreat
+into the closet just as Miss Sidebottom and Belinda entered the room from
+above.
+
+Mr. Hardesty applied his eye to the key-hole, but saw nothing save the
+form of either lady as it flitted from time to time across the limited
+range of his vision. Presently a conversation began between the two, of
+which, however, he could hear nothing except a confused murmur, and
+occasionally a most uproarious fit of laughter. Before long the merry
+tones of the elder lady were changed to those of anger. Miss Sidebottom
+was evidently scolding one of the servants, and then came reiterated
+sounds of castigation, interspersed with tongue-lashings, by far the most
+terrible of the two. Mr. Hardesty resigned himself to his fate, and was
+willing to endure a confinement that revealed to him the evil spirit that
+reigned within a form of so much loveliness.
+
+After a while came the indescribable sounds of breakfast; the rattling of
+knives and forks, and cups and saucers, suggestive to Mr. Hardesty's mind
+of coffee, hot biscuits, and butter. Presently the table was cleared away,
+and he caught a glimpse through his key-hole of the two ladies, dressed in
+their cloaks and bonnets. In a moment they departed, leaving Mr. Hardesty
+sole proprietor.
+
+Each moment of this time was one of intense agony to Mr. Hardesty. Exposed
+to hunger and thirst, and cold and insult, what had he done to deserve
+such misfortunes? And that was Christmas, too; what a merry day to all the
+world without; and in what a contemptible plight was he! What would little
+Master John think of his absence; and how much would be sold at his little
+store before night? These reflections only enhanced the agony of his
+imprisonment; so wrapping himself tightly in the folds of his cloak, he
+crouched down in a corner of the closet, and soon fell fast asleep.
+
+Mr. Hardesty slept on until night-fall. So soon as he realized his
+situation, he determined to be a prisoner no longer, but to emerge from
+his confinement, whatever might be the danger of an exposure. Fortunately
+for him, the room was deserted. The ladies had not yet returned from their
+visit. Mr. Hardesty approached the window and found it quite dark without.
+He had little time left for deliberation, for he heard the sound of a key
+turning in the street-door lock, and recognized the well-known voice of
+Miss Sidebottom; so hoisting the window, he crawled rapidly through it,
+and leaped on the ground.
+
+Mr. Hardesty breathed once more like a freeman; and muttering deep
+anathemas against the inhospitable house and all its inmates, he stole
+quietly along, with his bootless feet buried at each step in the snow.
+Leaving the more frequented streets, and worming his way through bypaths
+and dark alleys; now turning a corner, under the direful apprehension of
+meeting some acquaintance, and now darting this way or that to avoid a
+random snow-ball, he pursued his painful way until he reached home, where
+he knocked and was admitted by Master John.
+
+The grocer bolted in, rushed into his counting-room, and throwing off his
+cloak, stared wildly at the bewildered boy. 'What do you think of that,
+John?' pointing to his denuded extremities. 'How does that become your old
+master, Sir?'
+
+Master John, frightened partly at the anomalous appearance of the grocer,
+and partly at the sternness of his voice and manner, started back to the
+remotest corner of the room, but said nothing.
+
+'What's the matter now, you little fool?' said his master. 'Are you afraid
+of old Tom Hardesty? If you are, you needn't be; nobody need be afraid of
+such an old coward as I am--darned if they need!' And feeling that he was
+growing melancholy, he determined to subdue the propensity, and to that
+end commenced cutting the complicated figure entitled a pigeon-wing. This
+exhilarating sport soon restored the grocer's good humor, and he laughed
+heartily and made such a racket altogether, that the boy gradually
+approached him to inquire what it all meant, how he had spent his
+Christmas, what had become of his breeches, and all about it.
+
+'Here, John,' said Mr. Hardesty, seating himself by the fire, 'sit here
+and I'll tell you all about it. But what an old fool I am! Here's
+twenty-four blessed hours gone, and the d----l a bit or a drop have I had
+since last night at supper. Is this my house or not, John? for I've forgot
+every thing except one, and wouldn't swear I ain't dreaming, and haven't
+been all day.'
+
+The boy gave him every assurance that he was at home.
+
+'Well, John,' pursued the master, 'I think the last time I was here--it
+may be a year, or it may be more--I'll be hanged if I know--but I rather
+think there was a lot of prime cheese, and a few barrels of crackers. You
+haven't sold 'em all, John?'
+
+John smiled, and answered negatively.
+
+'I rather think, too, there were several casks of best three-year-old
+whiskey, prime lot; any of _that_ left, John?'
+
+John pointed, in reply, to a row of casks in one corner that answered the
+description.
+
+'No! stop, Sir!' said Mr. Hardesty, soliloquizing; 'I think she said
+Madeira was good for it. Yes, John, I'll take a little of the Madeira, if
+you've any on hand.'
+
+John opened a cupboard door, and producing a black quart-bottle, assured
+Mr. Hardesty it was nearly full.
+
+'That'll do, Sir,' said the grocer. 'Set the table; never mind the cloth.
+Crackers and cheese and old Madeira, and 'away with melancholy.''
+
+In a few minutes the table was spread according to directions, after which
+Mr. Hardesty seated himself near it and did ample justice to the simple
+fare.
+
+'You see, John,' said the old gentleman, when his appetite was somewhat
+assuaged, 'it's all on account of that old, ugly, and infernal Peggy
+Sidebottom. Here's hoping she may--may never drown her sorrows in the
+flowing bowl!'
+
+The grocer drank this toast with infinite gusto and replenished his glass.
+
+'Well, Sir, as I was about saying, I went there last night to spend an
+hour in a little sociable chat, and was about taking leave----' At this
+point the speaker was interrupted by several violent raps at the door.
+
+'Who's that?' inquired Mr. Hardesty, draining his glass.
+
+'It's me,' said a voice from without.
+
+'What do you want?' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+'Nothin'; what do _you_ want?'
+
+'Who the d----l are you?' said the grocer, in a voice of thunder.
+
+'Dick!' replied the voice.
+
+'Dick what?'
+
+'Dick Sidebottom!'
+
+'What do you want here?' said the grocer, rising and pacing the floor.
+'John, where's my cow-hide? Clear yourself, you little rascal, or
+I'll----'
+
+'But I've got your breeches and your boots, Sir,' said Dick.
+
+'Oh! you _have_, have you?'--and Mr. Hardesty threw aside the cow-hide,
+and opened the door. Dick marched boldly in, deposited his plunder on a
+chair, and then looked Mr. Hardesty full in the face with a glance of
+perfect innocence. The owner of the recovered booty picked them up,
+examined them closely to satisfy himself of their identity, and without
+saying a word, put them on in their appropriate places. This done, he
+surveyed himself with a smile of approbation, and felt that he was indeed
+Mr. Hardesty once more. After helping Dick to a highly sweetened draught
+from the contents of the black bottle, he begged of him a detailed account
+of the affair of the lost boots and breeches. This Dick proceeded to give;
+by telling, in his peculiar and highly figurative manner, how his aunt had
+first suggested the feat to him; how he had risen while Mr. Hardesty was
+asleep, secured the booty, and hid it in an adjoining hay-loft; how his
+aunt had promised him a Christmas pie, and though often requested thereto,
+had failed to comply; how she had inflicted personal chastisement on him
+for some trivial offence; and how, on reflecting what a kind-hearted old
+gentleman Mr. Hardesty was, and what a crabbed old thing Aunt Peggy was,
+he had repented of his theft, and determined to make restitution at the
+earliest opportunity; 'and there they are on you,' said Dick, in
+conclusion, 'and that's all about it.'
+
+Mr. Hardesty listened with due attention to this detail, and then sat for
+some time in silence.
+
+'And you can swear to all this in a court of justice, can you?'
+
+'Certainly, Sir.'
+
+'And you'll do it when called on?'
+
+Dick bowed his head in assent.
+
+'Good!' said Mr. Hardesty, grasping the boy's hand. 'Take a little more of
+this,' he continued, filling Dick's glass. 'Your aunt shall suffer for
+this yet, if there's any law or justice in the land.'
+
+'Ain't there no law,' inquired Dick, pausing in his draught, 'for suing an
+old lady for 'sault and batterhim?'
+
+'No, Dicky, I fear not in your case; but if I get any damages, I'll give
+you half.'
+
+Dick drained the contents of his glass, and shaking hands most cordially
+with Mr. Hardesty and Master John, bade them good night. It is scarcely
+necessary to add, that the last surviving male heir of the Sidebottoms was
+gloriously drunk in less than an hour, and made such a demonstration of
+that fact to his sober and discreet aunt, that she caused his head to be
+soused repeatedly in cold water, and then flogged him into sobriety.
+
+It is not to be supposed that the disappearance of the village grocer from
+his usual post for a whole day together, and particularly on Christmas,
+that busiest of all days, failed to excite a degree of general curiosity
+and inquisitiveness as to the cause of his absence; but to the many
+inquiries of his friends touching that subject, he only replied by shaking
+his head and saying that time would show. Enough had leaked out, however,
+to satisfy the public that the affair was shrouded in a mystery that was
+worth the trouble of penetrating; so that when on the morning of the first
+of January immediately succeeding the year that had just closed, Mr.
+Thomas Hardesty and Miss Margaret Sidebottom were summoned each by three
+lusty cheers from the town-crier to appear before his worship the police
+judge of Idleberg, the populace rushed to the scene of judicial conflict,
+until the humble and contracted audience-chamber was crowded to
+overflowing.
+
+The witnesses summoned in the case were Mrs. Jenkins, Jake Crow, and
+Master Dick Sidebottom. In due time the defendant came into court, leaning
+on the arm of her next friend and privy counsellor, Mrs. Jenkins, who as
+usual was attended by a bevy of young Jenkinses. Before embarking in this
+trying embassy, the ladies, by the way, had gone to the Madeira bottle;
+the one complaining of a pain in the breast, and the other of general
+nervousness. Mr. Hardesty was unattended, and so were his remaining
+witnesses.
+
+The warrant gravely charged the defendant with stealing or causing to be
+stolen from the plaintiff, on the night of the twenty-fourth of December
+last past, a pair of boots and a pair of breeches, whose respective values
+were duly set forth. The reading of this document created quite a
+sensation throughout the court-room. Mrs. Jenkins was called and sworn.
+She deposed that on the night specified in the warrant, she had taken tea
+at the defendant's house; that she was suddenly called home, missing
+thereby a great deal of anticipated pleasure; that the defendant passed
+the next day, being Christmas-day, at her (witness's) house; and witness
+did not at any time see defendant steal or cause to be stolen from
+plaintiff the said boots and breeches, nor did she believe Miss Sidebottom
+to be capable of such an act; 'and particular,' she said in conclusion,
+'from such a pitiful old scamp as Tom Hardesty;' and glancing around
+triumphantly at the audience, and scornfully at the plaintiff, she waited
+for the court's cross-questions.
+
+'Is that all you know about the case, Madam?' inquired his worship,
+smiling.
+
+That was all.
+
+'You can retire. Call Jake Crow.'
+
+Mr. Crow stood in no need of being called, as he marched up to the judge
+immediately, and deposed that on the last Christmas-eve night, he had
+called at defendant's house for Mrs. Jenkins, as old Jenkins had been
+knocked on the head and carried home drunk. (At this Mrs. Jenkins looked
+like a carnation pink, and commenced fanning herself violently with her
+pocket-handkerchief.) Witness, however, did not enter the house, and knew
+nothing whatever of the matter in dispute.'
+
+'You can retire, Mr. Crow. Call Richard Sidebottom.'
+
+Dick had managed, with his usual restlessness, to retire some time before
+this from the crowded room, and was breathing the pure air and playing his
+boyish pranks in a distant part of the town. The officer who was
+despatched for the young gentlemen returned presently, lugging him by the
+coat-collar. After being introduced to the court by the usual solemnities,
+Dick proceeded to give in detail the events of the memorable night, as
+already known to the reader. He also gave an interesting account of the
+defendant's oft-repeated cruelties to himself personally; how on Christmas
+night he had restored the stolen articles to plaintiff, and how the
+rightful proprietor was wearing the same in court.
+
+A general hurrah and stamping of feet succeeded the delivery of this
+testimony; at which the judge frowned, and the constable cried 'Order!'
+with all his lungs.
+
+'Mr. Hardesty,' said the judge, when order was restored, 'do you feel
+disposed to prosecute this suit? I fear I must dismiss the warrant, on the
+ground that the court can furnish no relief in the case. What say you?'
+
+Mr. Hardesty arose. 'May it please your worship, the time was, and I care
+not who knows it, when I entertained for the defendant in this cause
+feelings of the most profound respect and admiration. And I had been led
+to hope that my passion was not altogether disregarded; that Miss
+Sidebottom would one day become Mrs. Hardesty. And this, Sir, as detailed
+to you by the last witness, her own nephew, is the treatment I have
+received!' The speaker paused and applied his pocket handkerchief to his
+eyes. The audience was touched. 'It ain't the temporary loss of my
+breeches; it ain't the long weary hours I spent shivering in that closet;
+it ain't the wading home bare-footed in the snow; it ain't the finger of
+scorn some gentlemen may p'int at me now, that wounds my heart; but it's
+feeling and knowing that the woman I loved better than my own life; the
+woman I would have lived for, or died for, to make her happy; that that
+very woman----' He could say no more; his feelings overpowered him, and he
+sat down.
+
+Miss Sidebottom's sympathies were evidently touched throughout this
+harangue. Until now, she had been rocking to and fro in her seat, and when
+Mr. Hardesty concluded, she rushed through the crowd, threw herself on his
+neck, and kissed him passionately.
+
+'Clear the room!' bawled his worship, starting to his feet. 'Clerk,' he
+continued, addressing that official personage, who was standing near,
+'write me a license to unite Thomas Hardesty and Margaret Sidebottom in
+the holy bands of matrimony. I know they are of age, and don't need any
+guardeens.'
+
+The judge sat down, convulsed by his own wit, while the clerk proceeded to
+his task. The loving pair looked up and smiled through their tears. 'I
+loved you, Tom, all the time; I did indeed. It was all in fun, dear
+man--indeed it was!' Tom Hardesty threw his arms around her neck, and
+pressed her head to his bosom.
+
+'Come!' said his worship, after reading the license, 'none of your
+hysterics here, but stand up and be married.' And married they were; and
+the bride, in consideration of her cruelty, paid the costs of the suit and
+the marriage fees; and off they marched homeward, amid the deafening
+huzzas of the multitude that was gathered in the street.
+
+Happy New-Year! that sealed Tom Hardesty's happiness! Many a changing
+season has come and gone since then, and nobody knows but they are the
+happiest couple in Idleberg. Mr. Hardesty's first domestic advice to his
+bride was to decline Mrs. Jenkins's farther acquaintance, which she did
+most readily. The old gentleman has long since despaired of having an heir
+direct, but has promised John, who is prospering behind his old master's
+counter, that he and Belinda shall marry before long. Mr. Richard
+Sidebottom is one of the 'reformed drunkards,' and eschews Madeira
+especially. He is now an attorney, _in embryo_, and gives ample promise of
+carrying into his profession all the acuteness and cunning which
+distinguished his exploits on the memorable night that opened this chapter
+in the biography of Mr. Tom Hardesty.
+
+
+
+
+WINTER EVENING.
+
+
+ The fire is burning cheerly bright, the room is snug and warm,
+ We keep afar the wintry night, and drive away the storm;
+ And when without the wanderer pines, and all is dark and chill,
+ We sit securely by the fire, and sparkling glasses fill.
+
+ And ever as the hollow wind howls through the moaning trees,
+ Strange feelings on the boding heart with sudden chillness seize:
+ But brightly blazes then the hearth, and freely flows the wine;
+ And laugh of glee, and song of mirth, then wreathe their merry twine.
+
+ We think not how the dashing sleet beats on the crusted pane,
+ We care not though the drifting snow whirls o'er the heath amain;
+ But haply, while our hearts are bright, far struggling through the
+ waste,
+ Some traveller seeks our window's light, with long and fruitless haste.
+
+ Hark his halloo! we leave the fire, and hurry forth to save:
+ A short half hour, and he had found beneath the snow a grave.
+ Pile on the wood!--feed high the flame!--bring out our choicest store!
+ The traveller's heart grows warm again; his spirit droops no more.
+
+ J. G. P.
+
+
+
+
+SONG OF THE NEW YEAR.
+
+BY MRS. R. S. NICHOLS.
+
+
+ I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,
+ An heir of the monarch Earth's children call TIME;
+ With years yet unborn, I have stood in the hall
+ That was reared by our sire, awaiting his call:
+ Last eve, as I lay on his bosom at rest,
+ I saw slowly rise a white cloud in the west;
+ Now through the blue ether, through regions of space,
+ It floated up softly, with fairy-like grace,
+ And paused 'neath the light of the white-shining stars,
+ Whose rays pierced its centre, like clear silver bars;
+ The winds revelled round it, unchecked in their mirth,
+ As it hung, like a banner, 'mid heaven and earth.
+
+ The soft fleecy folds of the clouds swept aside,
+ The winds ceased their revels, and mournfully sighed;
+ A car slowly rolled down the pathway of Time,
+ A bell slowly tolled a funereal chime:
+ A sound in the air, and a wail on the breeze,
+ Swift as wave follows wave on tempest-tossed seas;
+ Thin shadows swept by in that funeral train,
+ As glide o'er old battle-grounds ghosts of the slain.
+ I saw the dim spectres of long-buried years--
+ The Seasons close followed, in mourning and tears.
+
+ Arrayed in his armor, death-darts in his hand,
+ The grim King of Terrors strode on with the band,
+ While cold, stark and ghastly, there lay on his bier
+ The death-stricken form of the hoary OLD YEAR!
+ How bent was his figure, how furrowed his brow,
+ How weary he looked from his pilgrimage now!
+ The phantoms of Passion, of Hope and Despair,
+ With dark, waving plumage, encircled him there;
+ The Months stood around, and the bright dancing Hours
+ On spirit-wings floated, like birds among flowers.
+
+ A voice sweet as music now smote on my ear:
+ 'Go forth in thy beauty, thou unspotted Year!
+ The old Year hath died 'mid rejoicings and mirth,
+ That rocked the stern heart of the rugged old Earth!
+ The midnight is passing; away to thy car!
+ Thou'lt sail by the lustre of morning's bright star;
+ Away!' And I rose from the bosom of Time,
+ And fled through the gates of that shadowy clime;
+ My car sped along on the wings of the wind,
+ While Winter, old man! tottered slowly behind.
+
+ The sky's eastern portals impeded my flight,
+ When Morning rose up from the arms of the Night;
+ The dawn faintly glowed, and I saw the old Earth,
+ And sailed in my kingdom, a monarch at birth!
+ 'Then give me wild music, the dance and the song,
+ For ever!' I shouted, while whirling along:
+ 'I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,
+ A breath of the monarch Earth's children call TIME!'
+
+_Cincinnati, December, 1843._
+
+
+
+
+ON COLOUR.
+
+ Full angel-like the birdis sang their hours[1]
+ Within their curtains green, within their bowers
+ Apparelled with white and red, with bloomys sweet.
+ Enamell'd was the field with all coloùrs:
+ The pearlit drops shook as in silver showers,
+ While all in balm did branche and leavis fleit.[2]
+ Depart fra' Phoebus did Aurora greit;
+ Her chrystal tears I saw hing on the flowers
+ Which he, for love, all drank up with his heat.
+
+ DUNBAR.
+
+ [1] Heures, prayers.
+ [2] Float.
+
+ 1. The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
+
+ 2. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me
+ beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul.
+
+ A PSALM OF DAVID.
+
+
+As I walk over the surface of this fair Earth, an erring and a wayward
+being, at times dejected by the trials of a solitary and an almost
+abortive life, or sustained or elevated by its prosperous incidents; I
+sometimes think that no one other blessing of existence hath ever
+comforted my heart and restored my soul so much, as the pleasures and
+delights of COLOUR. It is my wealth, my joy, my faculty, my fountain!
+
+The recreative pleasure that others find in Music, although this is not
+denied is less to me than to them, a restorative and a balm. Music excites,
+arouses me; melts me into weakness, or animates me into passionate
+exertion; but it is in the green pasture and beside the still waters, in
+bowers apparelled with white and red; it is in the tints with which autumn
+is bedecked, and Day expires; that I feel I shall not want, and that GOD
+restoreth my soul! And it is among huge and solitary mountain masses of
+grey castellated rock, in the crevices of which the stinted pine, and the
+cedar with its brown and tattered trunk, struggle out a hard and scanty
+existence and are yet covered with never-fading verdure--mountains to
+which the Saviour of mankind might have retired to meditate and pray--that
+I feel that the Lord is my Shepherd, and shall bring me to the green
+pastures, and lead me beside the still waters; my Rock! my fortress! and
+my high tower!
+
+Sometimes my heart takes a fancy altogether for _brown_ hues; and as you
+cannot at all times command these in the country, I seat myself down
+quietly in front of a precious Cuyp with which GOD hath endowed me, and
+that (except the sky and water) is composed entirely of them in every
+gradation and shade; and when I rise up from the contemplation of it, I
+feel that it is in brown hues that GOD restoreth my soul.
+
+Sometimes I dwell upon the silvery trunk of the birch-tree, or upon the
+darker hue of the beech. Sometimes my soul drinks the full beauties of the
+umbrageous chestnut; or revels in the golden berries, and the graceful
+branches that seem overladen with them, of the mountain-ash. As I grow old
+I wave often in the grey pendulous mosses of the South, or stand in
+thought under the gigantick branches of the live oak, with all its leaves
+of laurel, and its heroick gesture. GOOD GOD! I say, when I think that we
+might all have been born, ate, drank, smoked, grown up, built, propagated,
+and died, as thoroughly and effectually as we now do, and all these
+precious objects of our sight and joy been made for us--out of the one
+desolate colour of an old pipe!
+
+And WATER--that element of Life, that upon the plaintain-leaf looks so
+like a molten mass of diamond that you can hardly persuade yourself it is
+aught else, might as well have been created of a mere drab quaker-colour;
+or not even as bright as a bit of Quartz Rock! and yet have satisfied our
+thirst as well as if it had gushed forth from the limpid sources of the
+Croton; or been drawn from the transparent body of Lake George; or from
+those mountain streams of sparkling chrystal that, in alternate shade and
+gleams of light of tropical brilliancy, bound and gush and dance their way
+downward from rock to rock to the sound of their own musick, and make
+themselves into rivers of joy as they descend along the _Grand Etang_ of
+the Island of Grenada!
+
+And WINE, that GOD hath sent to make glad the heart of man, and
+hath blessed it in the cup; and which might perhaps have had the same
+hilarious effect, though it were of the dingy colour of the ashes of the
+grate by which I sit; but which, for our more perfect happiness, He hath
+made to outvie the Topaz and the Ruby, in its lustre and its varied hue!
+
+There are many of us who have this one quality, the love of colour, in
+common with the magnificent DAVID, whose precious inspiration I have
+quoted at the head of my Essay, and who in a thousand passages interweaves
+it like a golden thread amid his works; but as in the minds of many
+others, it may be a blessing only half appreciated, I have thought that a
+few words upon this subject might fall not unfruitfully upon the heart,
+perchance of some one young Reader of this article, just opening to the
+knowledge of this peculiar work of the great Master of mankind, COLOUR.
+
+Even Music, although itself an occupation revealed to us as of the Angels
+of Light, is, except perhaps as they enjoy it--with whom poetry and
+modulated sound adapted to the thought are inseparably one--even music is
+less refined, less gentle, perfect, unobtrusive. For the enjoyment of
+Colour involves no possible interruption of another's tastes; no outbreak
+upon the quiet stillness of the day; no intrusion on 'the ear of night;'
+nor yet any expression, that by pouring abroad the sensations, might
+diminish the deep earnestness of the soul; which, all sight, all ear,
+becomes the Recipient. The enjoyment of colour is the Spirit within us
+listening to the language of GOD! to the mute expression of His
+unspeakable Love! COLOUR--the conception He hath chosen for His bow of
+promise in the Heavens! by which He decorates the Earth, and tells of
+Himself in the ocean, and in the sky, and by which He restoreth the Soul
+of man!
+
+And in that state of celestial existence which attends the redeemed Soul
+disenthralled from 'the body of this death,' is it to be doubted, that
+among the joys that 'the eye hath never seen, nor the heart conceived,'
+there exist colours beautiful beyond all earthly wealth of imagination;
+beyond the poet's fancy and the painter's dream? There where the pure gold
+of which the city is constructed, is transparent as glass, and each gate
+is one pearl, and the very foundations of the walls are of jasper, and
+chalcedony, sapphire, emerald, ruby, amethyst and topaz; and the glory of
+GOD is the light that lightens it!
+
+But it is not to another world that the joys of colour are postponed, nor
+even to another climate that we need look for the precious satisfaction
+that they impart. We have not the carpets of flowers of rainbow tints,
+that spread themselves over whole prairies of Texas and Mexico, but what a
+gem upon the bosom of Earth when it is unexpectedly found among us is the
+blue campanula! And the small white lily of the valley, sheltered and
+concealed in its green leaves like a hidden tear of Joy, and almost as
+rare! And the bright and graceful lobelia cardinalis that loves the
+neighbourhood of the still waters. And the fringed gentian of a tint so
+cerulean that our true poet derives it from the firmament; as his own
+spirit, if left to approach its kindred element, might claim affinity with
+the overshadowing expanse of celestial life![3]
+
+ [3] THIS allusion is to BYRANT'S lines 'To the Fringed
+ Gentian,' a poem so replete with truth and beauty, that we
+ cannot resist the inclination to quote it here.
+
+ ED. KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+ Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
+ And coloured with the heaven's own blue.
+ That openest, when the quiet light
+ Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
+
+ Thou comest not when violets lean
+ O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
+ Or columbines, in purple dressed,
+ Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.
+
+ Thou waitest late, and com'st alone,
+ When woods are bare and birds are flown,
+ And frosts and shortening days portend
+ The aged year is near his end.
+
+ Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
+ Look through its fringes to the sky,
+ Blue--blue--as if that sky let fall
+ A flower from its cerulean wall.
+
+ I would that thus, when I shall see
+ The hour of death draw near to me,
+ Hope, blossoming within my heart,
+ May look to heaven as I depart.
+
+I speak not to thee of the gorgeous sunsets and of those piles of massy
+clouds of living and ever-varying colours on which the Day pillows himself
+to rest in a luxurious repose; but open thine heart upon the Eastern bank
+of the Hudson at the grey of morning, and look with the Sun upon the
+opposite shore; and as the mists arise and are dispelled from before thee,
+there shall come change after change of colour neutral and calm and slowly
+warming into beauty, until a violet haze shall rest upon the hill-tops and
+the cliffs that might outvie the golden haze of Italy, and that shall
+raise thy thoughts in silent thankfulness, and educate thee to enjoy the
+untold treasuries of colour that glow in upper Heaven; and hope shall
+spring forth renewed within thee; and sorrow shall fade from thy widowed,
+or thy childless heart; the peace which passeth understanding shall come
+over thee; and GOD even thine own GOD shall bless thee; and to thine eyes,
+now opened to the wonders of His goodness, all the ends of the Earth shall
+_shew forth_ His praise!
+
+ JOHN WATERS.
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS
+
+SUGGESTED BY GLIDDON'S LECTURES ON THE ANTIQUITIES OF EGYPT.
+
+MISS H. J. WOODMAN
+
+
+ Sublime hath been thy conquest o'er the past,
+ Stemming Oblivion's torrent by thy might,
+ Reading symbolic records long o'ercast
+ By the deep shadows of unbroken night;
+ Tracing with reverent finger names of kings
+ That long had slumbered with forgotten things.
+
+ The mists that deeply veiled historic rays,
+ Thou art dispelling with resistless hand;
+ And dynasties that flourished ere the days
+ When ABRAHAM forsook the promised land,
+ No longer noteless, nameless, boldly claim
+ Their lofty tablet in the arch of fame.
+
+ Thy curious finger with a magic key
+ Unlocked the store of ages, and the light,
+ Flooding the pass of time, sublime and free,
+ Decks ruined temples in its vesture bright:
+ These are the relics of _thy_ grandeur flown,
+ Land of the Pharaohs and their prostrate throne.
+
+ Ere the white stranger's land had trodden been
+ By foot of pilgrim, Egypt sat supreme,
+ Queen of the nations, and her realm within
+ Wealth, learning, power convened--a full, deep stream!
+ The bulwarks of her throne were safely reared
+ In hearts by which her greatness was revered.
+
+ And now, with Science for his trusty guide,
+ The stranger comes to read her mystic lore,
+ Tread her deserted cities, stand beside
+ Her sculptured temples, eloquent once more;
+ Not with man's voice, but with the nobler speech
+ Of days beyond our spirit's utmost reach.
+
+ And those proud monuments of youthful time,
+ The pyramids, whose lofty sides have borne
+ The storms of centuries in that fierce clime,
+ And seeming still to smile in speechless scorn,
+ When bow the everlasting hills with age,
+ Then shall they vanish from the world's bright page.
+
+ A mournful ruin to thy utmost bound,
+ A type of glory long since passed away,
+ The statue voiceless whence the thrilling sound
+ Of gushing music hailed the rising day;
+ Thus art thou now, oh Egypt! but the flame
+ Of new-born Science gilds thine ancient name.
+
+ And from the dust shalt thou arise once more,
+ Not by thine own degenerate sons upreared,
+ But strangers who have sought thy verdant shore
+ Shall hail thy fallen greatness, still revered;
+ Until among the kingdoms of the earth
+ Thou shalt appear renewed--a second birth!
+
+
+
+
+THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+HARRY HARSON.
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
+
+Notwithstanding his having made what most persons would have considered a
+hearty meal at Harry Harson's, Mr. Kornicker had nevertheless such perfect
+reliance on his own peculiar gastronomic abilities, that he did not in the
+least shrink from again testing them. Leaving Michael Rust's presence with
+an alacrity which bordered upon haste, he descended into the refectory
+with somewhat of a jaunty air, humming a tune, and keeping time to it by
+an occasional flourish of the fingers. Having seated himself, his first
+act was to shut his eyes, thrust his feet at full length under the table;
+plunge both hands to the very bottom of his breeches-pockets, where they
+grasped spasmodically two cents and a small key, and laugh silently for
+more than a minute, occasionally breaking in upon his merriment to gossip
+to himself in the most profound and mysterious manner.
+
+'A queer dog! a very queer dog! d----d queer, old Michael is! Well, that's
+_his_ business, not mine.'
+
+As soon as this idea had fully impressed itself upon him, he sat up,
+became grave, and looked about in search of the waiter. In doing so, he
+encountered the eyes of a short fat man at a table near him, who at the
+first glance seemed to be reading a newspaper, but at the second, seemed
+to be reconnoitering him over it. Mr. Kornicker observing this, not only
+returned his glance, but added a wink to it by way of interest. The man
+thereupon laid down his paper, and nodded.
+
+Mr. Kornicker nodded in reply; and said he hoped he was well, and that his
+wife and small children were equally fortunate.
+
+The face of the stranger was a round, jolly face, with two little eyes
+that twinkled and glistened between their fat lids, as if they were very
+devils for fun; and his whole appearance was cozy and comfortable. His
+chin was double; his stomach round and plump, with an air of
+respectability; and he occasionally passed his hand over it, as if to say:
+'Ah ha! beat that who can!' But notwithstanding his merry look, at this
+last remark his face grew long; and with a melancholy shake of his head,
+he pointed to his hat which hung on a peg above him, and was swathed in a
+broad band of crape, terminating in two stiff skirts projecting from it
+like a rudder, and giving it the appearance of a corpulent butterfly in
+mourning, at roost on the wall.
+
+'Ah!' said Mr. Kornicker, looking at the hat, 'that's it?'
+
+'Yes,' replied the stranger, with a deep sigh, 'that's it.'
+
+'Father?' inquired Mr. Kornicker, nodding significantly toward the hat.
+
+'No--wife,' replied the other.
+
+'Dead?' inquired Mr. Kornicker.
+
+'Dead as a hammer.'
+
+'Was it long or short? consumption or fits?' asked Mr. Kornicker, drawing
+up his feet and turning so as to face the stranger, by way of evincing the
+interest which he felt in his melancholy situation.
+
+The man shook his head, and was so affected that he was troubled with a
+temporary cold in his head; which, having alleviated by the aid of his
+handkerchief, he said: 'Poor woman! She undertook to present me with a
+fine boy, last week, and it proved too much for her. It exhausted her
+animal natur', and she decamped on a sudden. She was a very fine woman--a
+very fine woman. I always _said_ she was.'
+
+'And the child?' inquired Kornicker; 'I hope it's well.'
+
+'Quite well, I thank you. It went along with her. They are both better
+off; saints in heaven, both of 'em; out of this wale of tears.'
+
+Mr. Kornicker told him to cheer up. He said that every man had a crook in
+his lot. Some men had big crooks, and some men had little crooks; and
+although this crook made rather a bad elbow in his lot, that perhaps all
+the rest was square and straight, and he could build on it to advantage,
+especially if it was twenty-five feet by a hundred, which was the ordinary
+width and length of 'lots in general.'
+
+Having delivered himself of this rather confused allegory, Mr. Kornicker,
+by way of farther consolation, drew out his snuff-box, and stretching out
+as far as was possible without falling from his chair, tendered it to the
+stranger, who in return leaning so far forward as slightly to raise his
+person from the chair, gently inserted his fingers in the box, and helped
+himself to a pinch, at the same time remarking, that it 'was a great
+comfort, in his trying situation, to find friends who sympathized with his
+misfortunes. That he _had_ found it so; and that Mr. Kornicker was a man
+whose feelings did credit to human natur'.'
+
+Kornicker disclaimed being any thing above the ordinary run of men, or
+that his feelings were more than every other man possessed, or ought to
+possess. But the stranger was vehement in his assertions to the contrary;
+so much so, that he rose from his seat, and drawing a chair to the
+opposite side of Kornicker's table, proposed that they should breakfast
+together.
+
+Kornicker shook his head:
+
+'It's against the agreement,' said he; 'it can't be done.'
+
+'But it _can_, Sir--it _shall_, Sir! A man of your sympathies is not to be
+met with every day, and must be breakfasted with, whether he will or
+not--agreement or no agreement. Don't agreement me!' said the stranger,
+lifting up his chair and setting it down opposite Kornicker, with great
+emphasis. 'What's the natur' of this agreement?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker assumed a very grave and legal expression of countenance,
+and without replying, asked:
+
+'What's your name?'
+
+'Ezra Scrake.'
+
+'I, Edward Kornicker, forbid you, Ezra Scrake, from breakfasting with me,
+telling you that it is contrary to a certain agreement, referred to but
+not set forth; and I now repeat the request, that you forthwith retire to
+another table, and that I be permitted to take my meal by myself.' He
+threw himself back in his chair, and looked Mr. Scrake full in the face.
+
+'And I, Ezra Scrake, say that I _won't_ leave this table, and that I
+_will_ breakfast with a fellow whose benevolence might warm the witals of
+a tiger.'
+
+'Very well, Sir,' said Kornicker, relaxing from his former severe
+expression; 'I've done my duty. Old Rust can't blame me. The breach of
+contract is not on my part. I'm acting under compulsion. Just recollect
+that I desired you to leave me, in case it gets me into hot water, and
+that you refused; that's all. Now old fellow, what'll you take? Only
+recollect, that each man rides his own pony.'
+
+The stranger nodded, and said that of course he would 'foot his own bill.'
+
+These preliminaries being settled, the boy, who had been standing at their
+elbow in a state of ecstatic delight at the proceedings of Mr. Kornicker,
+with whom he had become familiar, and whom he regarded as a gentleman of
+great legal acumen, and in all other respects as rather a 'tall boy,' was
+desired by the stranger to hand him the bill of fare, and not to keep him
+waiting all day. Having been gratified in this respect, Mr. Scrake
+commenced at the top and deliberately whispered his way to the bottom of
+the list.
+
+'Beef-steak; shall I say for two?' asked he, looking up at Kornicker.
+
+'Yes, but always under protest, as to our breakfasting together,' said Mr.
+Kornicker, winking at him. 'Don't forget that.'
+
+'Of course. Now, my son, what trimmings have you got?' said he to the boy.
+
+''Taters.'
+
+'Are they kidneys, blue-noses, or fox?--and will they bu'st open white and
+mealy?'
+
+'They'm prime,' replied the boy.
+
+'Bring one for me; or, stop--are they extra?'
+
+'We throws them in with the steak, gratis.'
+
+'Then bring a dishful, with coffee, bread, and whatever else adds to the
+breakfast, without adding to the bill.'
+
+The boy, having no other interest in the establishment than that of
+securing his own wages and meals, was highly delighted at this considerate
+order of Mr. Scrake, and forthwith disappeared to obey it.
+
+In the meanwhile Mr. Scrake, after having deliberately re-perused the bill
+of fare, and not observing any thing else which could be got for nothing,
+laid it down, and looking at Mr. Kornicker, who was gazing abstractedly at
+the table-cloth, said that he hoped he (Mr. Scrake) was not going to be
+impertinent; and as Mr. Kornicker made no other reply than that of looking
+at him, as if he considered it a matter of some doubt whether he was or
+was not, he elucidated the meaning of his remark, by inquiring who Michael
+Rust was.
+
+'The old gentlemen that caters for me,' replied Kornicker, carelessly.
+
+'And does he make you eat alone?'
+
+'If I dine double, he'll stop the prog, that's all.'
+
+'A sing'lar bargain--quite sing'lar; very sing'lar, in fact. Does he keep
+a tight eye over you?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker did not exactly know what kind of an eye a tight eye was,
+but he replied: 'Sometimes he does, sometimes he don't. He's nigh enough
+to do it. His office is overhead.'
+
+'Lawyer, I suppose?--_must_ be,' said Mr. Scrake, drumming carelessly on
+the table.
+
+'You're out, old fellow. I'm with him, and should know something of him;
+and he isn't.'
+
+'Ah!' said the stranger, leaning back and yawning, and then sharpening his
+knife on the fork. 'What is he then?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker raised his finger gently to his nose, winked so violently at
+Mr. Scrake that he caused that gentleman to stop short in his performance
+to look at him; after which he shut both eyes, and gave vent to a violent
+inward convulsion of laughter.
+
+'What _is_ he?' repeated Kornicker, in a tone of high surprise; then
+sinking his voice, and leaning over the table, he whispered confidentially
+in Mr. Scrake's ear: 'He's hell.'
+
+'No! he isn't though, is he?' said Mr. Scrake, dropping his knife and
+fork, and sinking back in his chair.
+
+'Yes he is,' repeated Mr. Kornicker; 'and if you was a certain gentleman
+that I know, you'd find it out. _He_ will some day, I rather think.'
+
+'Are _you_ that individual?' inquired Mr. Scrake, with an air of deep
+interest.
+
+'No, I ain't, but I suspect some one else is. But come,' said he, 'there's
+the breakfast, so let's be at it, and drop all other discussion.'
+
+This remark found an answering echo in the stomach of Mr. Scrake, who
+resumed the sharpening of his knife, as the breakfast entered the room,
+and did not desist until the steak was on the table, when he immediately
+assaulted it.
+
+'Shall I help you? What part will you take?'
+
+'Any part,' replied Kornicker, carelessly.
+
+'Well, it's sing'lar; I never could carve. I'll help you as I would help
+myself,' said Mr. Scrake, in his ignorance depositing on Mr. Kornicker's
+plate an exceedingly tough piece of dry meat, and upon his own a cut which
+was remarkably tender and juicy.
+
+'Do you always help yourself as you have helped me?' said Mr. Kornicker,
+snuffing with great deliberation, and eyeing his portion with no very
+contented eye.
+
+'Always, always.'
+
+'Then you do yourself d----d great injustice.'
+
+'Ha! ha! good--very good; sheer ignorance on my part, upon my soul. But
+you were telling me about this man, this Rust,' said Mr. Scrake, mashing
+his potatoes, and entombing a lump of butter in the heart of a small
+pyramid of them. 'You said he was hell, or the devil, or something of that
+sort. What then? Eh?'
+
+Kornicker, though not at all pleased with the ignorance of his companion,
+in the particular branch in which it had just displayed itself, was not of
+a sulky disposition, and was easily won into a communicative mood,
+particularly as Mr. Scrake begged him, with tears in his eyes, to tell him
+which was the best part of a beef-steak, so that he might avoid in future
+the mortification of being guilty of a similar error.
+
+As the coffee went down, and the beef-steak followed, Mr. Scrake seemed to
+relax, and to forget that his hat hung over his head, commemorative of the
+recent retirement of Mrs. Scrake from this 'wale of tears,' and became
+quite jocular on the subject of the fair sex, congratulating Kornicker
+upon his looks; calling him a lucky dog, and telling him that if _he_ were
+him, he'd 'make up to some charming young woman with a fortune, and be off
+with her.' He then went into a detail of his own juvenile indiscretions,
+relating many incidents of his life; some of which were amusing, some
+ridiculous, some tragic, some pathetic, and not a few quite indecent. It
+was wonderful what a devil that fat-cheeked, little-eyed, round-stomached
+fellow had been. Who could resist the influence of such a man? Not poor
+Kornicker; it gradually had its effect upon him, for he in turn grew
+communicative; talked freely of Rust, and of every man, woman and child of
+his acquaintance. He grew merry over the rare doings which had taken place
+in Rust's den. He then descanted upon the peculiarities of the old man;
+his fierce fits of passion, his cold, shrewd, caustic manners, his coming
+in, and his going out; how long he was absent; how profoundly secret he
+kept himself, his doings, his whereabouts, and his mode of life. 'And,'
+said he, in conclusion, 'I know nothing of him. He's a queer dog, a
+wonderfully queer one. It would take a long time to fathom him, I can tell
+you. I've been with him for a long time; and am his confidential adviser,
+his lawyer, and all that sort of thing; and yet I've never done but two
+things for him.'
+
+'You don't say so!' exclaimed Mr. Scrake, laying down his knife and fork;
+and looking at him with his mouth open; 'and pray what _were_ those
+things?'
+
+'I sued one man,' (being a lawyer you know,) said he, nodding in an
+explanatory way at Mr. Scrake, 'and carried a letter to another.'
+
+'Ah! and who were those fortunate individuals?'
+
+'Poh! I suppose there's no secret about it. The man sued, was one Enoch
+Grosket. The other was one Henry Harson; a jolly old boy he _was_ too. I
+breakfasted with him; a prime fellow; keeps a d----d ugly cur, though.'
+
+'Enoch Grosket, Henry Harson!' said the stranger, musing; 'I've heard of
+them, I think. Who are they?'
+
+'It is more than I can tell,' replied Kornicker. 'That's the mystery of my
+situation. I know nothing about any thing I'm doing, or of him, or his
+acquaintances.'
+
+'Why, you must know what you sued the man for,' said Mr. Scrake,
+earnestly; 'you must know _that_, surely.'
+
+'Yes, but it's a height of knowledge which don't carry much information
+with it,' replied Mr. Kornicker. 'I sued him on a promissory note. What he
+made it for, or how Rust got it, or any thing more about him, or it, or
+Harson, or Rust, I know as little as you.'
+
+The stranger drew himself up, and looking at him gravely, said in a
+serious and even stern tone: 'Do you mean to say that you are entirely
+ignorant of every thing respecting this Rust; his family, his business,
+his acquaintances, his associates, his habits, his plans and
+operations?'--in short, that you know nothing more than you have mentioned
+to me?'
+
+The other nodded.
+
+'Waiter, my bill,' said he in a peremptory tone.
+
+The boy brought him a slip of paper, on which was written the amount.
+
+He paid it without a word; walked across the room, took down his hat, put
+it on his head, and turning to Kornicker, said in a tone of solemn
+earnestness: 'Young man, you're in a bad way, a _very_ bad way. Had I
+known with what people you were in the habit of associating before I sat
+down at that table, Ezra Scrake's legs and yours would never have been
+under the same mahogany. A man in the employ of another and know nothing
+of him! It's enormous! He might be a murderer, a thief; a man-slaughterer;
+a Burker, an arsoner, or any thing that is bad. Young man, in spite of the
+injury you've done me, I pity you; nay, I forgive you.'
+
+Mr. Kornicker, was merely waiting for an opportunity to suggest to him
+that his company had not only been unsought, but actually forced upon him,
+and even under his solemn protest. But before he could do so, Mr. Scrake
+was in the street; whereupon, on ascertaining that he was out of the
+hearing of Mr. Kornicker, he muttered to himself: 'It was no go. Waited
+for him two hours; then spent an hour in pumping a dry well. Enoch
+Grosket, has sent me on a fool's errand. Michael Rust knows too much to
+trust that addle-headed fool.'
+
+Having given vent to these observations, he deliberately buttoned up his
+coat, and walked off.
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTIETH.
+
+In a dark room into which even in the day-time the light struggled in such
+scanty streams that a kind of twilight was the nearest approach that it
+ever made to broad day, but which was now only lighted by a single candle,
+that flared and dripped in the currents of air, as they eddied and whirled
+about, seeking an escape, sat Tim Craig, and his comrade Bill Jones, the
+men with Rust's interview with whom the reader is already acquainted. They
+were sitting cheek by jowl on two wooden benches in front of a fire, which
+they from time to time nourished with sticks from a heap of wood on the
+hearth. The fire however would not burn, but kept smouldering and smoking,
+now and then springing up into a fitful blaze, which threw a spectral air
+over the room, peopling its dim recesses with all sorts of fantastic
+forms, and then expired, leaving it more gloomy than ever. The appearance
+of the men, their subdued, whispering voices and startled looks, showed
+that at that particular time they were not altogether in a frame of mind
+to resist the gloomy influence of the place. The dark, lonely room, with
+its large shadowy corners and gaping seams, through which the wind sighed
+and wailed, and the pattering of the rain as it swept heavily against the
+side of the house and on the roof, all tended to add to the melancholy and
+sombre tone of their feelings. Bill drew his bench to the fire, looked
+suspiciously about him, and then, as if half ashamed of having done so,
+said:
+
+'It's a h-ll of a night! I don't know how it is, but I'm not in trim
+to-night. Blow me, if the sight of that old fellow don't make one's blood
+cold. I can't get warm; and this bloody fire keeps sputtering and smoking,
+as if to spite one.'
+
+Tim Craig, to whom this remark was addressed, turned and looked him
+steadily in the face, without speaking; and then his eyes wandered about
+the room, as if he were fearful of being watched or overheard, in what he
+was going to say.
+
+'Bill,' said he in a low voice, his thin lips quivering; but whether from
+anger or any other emotion, was a matter of much doubt; 'd----d if I know
+which way to leap! Enoch pulls one way and Rust another. Either of them
+could send us to kingdom come. Ugh! how cold it is! Something comes over
+me to-night--I can't tell what. I don't half like the job. Bill,'
+continued he after a pause, drawing nearer his comrade and lowering his
+voice, 'I'm haunted to-night. You know that fellow, the man up town, the
+cartman----' He hesitated, and leaned his mouth close to the ear of the
+other, while in the dim light his face seemed ghastly; 'the--the man, last
+year----'
+
+Jones looked at him significantly; and then drew his finger across his
+throat. 'Do you mean that fellow?'
+
+'Yes,' replied Craig in a husky tone, and scarcely able to articulate, for
+the choking in his throat. 'He's been _here_ to-night. Three times I've
+caught him looking over my shoulder! GOD! There he is again! Light! light!
+light!' shouted he, springing up; 'make the fire burn, I say--make it
+burn! Heap on wood! heap it on! Do _anything_--but keep HIM off!'
+
+'Why, Tim, you seem to be took bad,' exclaimed his companion, at the same
+time getting on his knees, and setting assiduously to work to blow the
+fire. 'Come, this is worse than ever. We've got to work to-night; and it
+wont do to go into your fantastics.'
+
+He paused in his remarks to apply his breath to the fire, and with such
+success, that in a few minutes a bright blaze was dancing up the chimney,
+lighting the whole room, and dispelling at once that shadowy appearance
+which its great size and dilapidated state had tended to give it.
+
+'There now, that's as comfortable a fire as you can want; and arter all,
+what you was just talking of was all fancy,' said he, resuming his seat.
+'Dead men stay where you put 'em.'
+
+Craig had been pacing furiously up and down the room, as if to out-walk
+some demon that _would_ keep at his side; but he stopped short, and going
+up to his comrade, placed his hand on his shoulder and said: 'Bill Jones,
+that's a lie! Whoever says so, lies! Dead men _don't_ stay where you put
+'em. I've had that man walking with me for hours together. I've had him at
+the same table with me, when I ate; I've had him in bed with me--ay, all
+night long; and to-night he's been here with his face almost touching
+mine. Blast him! if I could but get him by the throat, I'd throttle him!'
+
+'Come, come, Tom, none of this,' said Jones, with more gentleness than his
+appearance indicated. 'I'm sorry for you; you must feel bad enough, or you
+wouldn't go on so. I've know'd you since we were boys together; and I know
+it's not a little matter that works you up, like you are now. Come, sit
+down.' He led him to a seat, and kneeling at his feet, took his hand in
+both of his. 'Don't give in so, my old feller. Don't you know, when we
+were boys, how we all looked up to you; and although I could have doubled
+you up, with my big limbs, yet you always had the mastery over me. Ha! ha!
+Tim, don't you remember the old schoolmaster, too? Hallo! what now?'
+
+Craig leaned his head upon Jones' shoulder and sobbed aloud. Don't talk of
+those days, Bill; it'll drive me mad. Oh! if I was a boy again! But no,
+no; I'm a fool,' exclaimed he, springing up, apparently swallowing his
+emotion at one fierce gulp, and in an instant becoming as hardened as
+ever. 'Am I crazy, to-night, or _what_ ails me, that I've become as
+white-livered as a girl? Where's the grog? Give us a sup; and we'll see
+what's to be done.'
+
+'There, now you talk right,' said Jones, putting his hand in his
+coat-pocket and drawing out a small bottle, cased in leather; 'that'll
+wake you up; and now to business. You hav'n't told me what's to be did,
+and who you'll go with, Grosket, or Rust.'
+
+'Rust,' said Craig, abruptly; 'he's our man. He can bleed; Enoch can't.
+_He_ never fails in what he wants to do; Enoch _does_; but they are both
+devils incarnate. I'd rather fight against ten other men than either of
+them; but rather against Enoch than Mike Rust.'
+
+'Well, what is it? He told you all about it. I couldn't hear what he
+said.'
+
+'He's been on the prowl for two days: God knows what he's arter; but he
+wants us to break in a house and steal a girl.'
+
+'The profligate willain!' exclaimed Mr. Jones, with an air of great
+horror; 'I'll tell his father of him!'
+
+'It's only a child.'
+
+'Oh! that alters the case,' said Mr. Jones, 'Then I'll tell his wife.
+Well?'
+
+'We are to go to the house, get the girl at all hazards, rob the house if
+we choose, and bring _her_ here. What he wants of her, who she is, is more
+than I know. 'You are to get her, and ask no questions,' that's what he
+said.'
+
+'Who's in the house?'
+
+'Only an old man and a woman.'
+
+'The man?--is he used up, or what?'
+
+'He's a bull-dog,' was the laconic reply.
+
+'We'll want _them_ then,' said Jones, pointing to a closet which was
+partly open, showing several pairs of pistols on a shelf.
+
+'I suppose so. Bring 'em out, and look at the locks; not the
+flintlocks--it's a wet night; get the others. We must have no trifling.'
+
+Jones made no other reply than to take out a pair of pistols, which he
+carried to the light, and examined their locks.
+
+'Are they loaded?' inquired Craig.
+
+Jones nodded: 'Two bullets in each! Suppose they twig us?--are we to fight
+or run?'
+
+''You had better die than fail.' He said that,' replied Craig, in a low
+tone; 'and when I saw his look I thought so too. D--n him! I'm afraid of
+him. It'll be no baby-work if they discover us.'
+
+The other robber made no reply, but continued to examine the pistols,
+carefully rubbing the barrels, to remove any trace of rust, and working
+the hammers backward and forward; after which he put two fresh caps on the
+cones. 'All right! I'm ready as soon as it's time. When do you go?'
+
+'Not till an hour after midnight. That's the time when folks sleep
+soundest. You could cut a man's throat then without waking him. Don't let
+the fire get down,' said he, turning an apprehensive eye toward the
+fire-place. 'It's cold, and we've three hours to be here yet.'
+
+Jones, with the same good-natured alacrity which he had before displayed,
+threw several sticks on the fire, and then turning to his comrade, said:
+
+'Suppose we rattle the dice till midnight?'
+
+Craig shook his head.
+
+'What say you to the paste-board?'
+
+'No cards for me,' replied the other, seating himself and leaning his
+cheeks between his hands, with his elbows on his knees, and his eyes
+fastened on the fire. 'I want to be on the move. God! How I wish it was
+time! This cursed room is enough to suffocate one. Curse me, but it smells
+of coffins and dead men, and is as cold as a church-vault. It goes to a
+fellow's very bones.'
+
+There was something so unusual in the mood of his comrade, that Jones at
+last started up and said:
+
+'Blast me, Tim, but you must stop this. You're making me as wild and
+frightened as yourself. Talk of your beaks, and courts, and prisons, and
+bullets, and pistols, as much as you like; but d--n it, leave your dead
+men, and coffins, and vaults, and all them 'ere to themselves, will you!
+Curse me, if you ain't enough to make a sneak of any man. So just stop,
+will you? If you can't talk of something better, don't talk at all.'
+
+Craig took him at his word; and drawing his bench closer to the fire,
+maintained his position, without moving or speaking for more than an hour.
+
+Jones, in the mean while, for want of employment, again examined the
+pistols; drew out the loads, and reloaded them; then going to the closet,
+he brought out two very dangerous-looking knives, and after trying the
+points on his finger, proceeded to oil them. This over, he betook himself
+to whistling, at the same time, keeping time to his music by drumming his
+heel heavily on the floor. This, however, could not last forever; and
+finally, wrapping a heavy coat around his shoulders, he stretched himself
+at full length in front of the fire, and was soon sound asleep.
+
+Not so his companion. In silence, without stirring, and scarcely
+breathing, yet wide awake, with ears alive to every sound, and distorting
+every sigh of the wind into the voice of a human being, he sat with white
+lips and a shaking hand until the faint chime of a clock, which reached
+him even above the noise of the storm, told him that the hour was come.
+
+'Wake up!' said he, touching Jones with his foot. 'It's time to be off.'
+
+Jones, with instinctive quickness, obeyed the call by springing to his
+feet, apparently as wide awake as if he had not closed his eyes during the
+night.
+
+'All right!' said he, looking hastily about the room. 'Hey! but what's all
+this noise?'
+
+'It's a horrible night; all hell seems abroad,' said Craig. 'But come; get
+ready, and let's be off.'
+
+'Will we want any of _them_?' asked Jones, pointing to an upper shelf in
+the closet, on which was lying a number of uncouth-looking instruments,
+the nature of which was best known to themselves.
+
+'Take the small crow; we may want _that_, but nothing more.'
+
+'The bag, too?' inquired Bill.
+
+'No; it's a girl we've to steal; d--n it, I wish it wasn't!'
+
+While he was speaking, he had thrust his arms into a shaggy great-coat,
+and was tying a thick woollen wrapper over his mouth, so that the last
+remark was nearly lost in it. He then put on an oil-skin cap, not unlike
+what is called by sailors a 'sou'-wester,' and stood watching the
+proceedings of his comrade, which were by no means as expeditious as his
+own; for that gentleman proceeded very leisurely to encase his feet in a
+pair of thick woollen stockings, and a pair of shoes more capable of
+resisting the wet than those which he then wore. After this, he put an
+oil-cloth jacket over his other one, and surmounted the whole by a coat
+similar to that worn by Craig.
+
+'One would suppose you was a baby, from your tenderness to yourself,' said
+Craig, impatiently. 'You ain't sugar, are you? Do you expect the rain to
+melt you?'
+
+'I'm a sweet fellow, I know that,' replied the other, carefully buttoning
+his coat to the chin. 'I may be sugar for all I know, shouldn't be
+surprised if I was. I've been told so afore this; let me tell you _that_,
+my old feller. You ain't in kidney to-night. Take another pull at little
+Job,' said he, handing him the bottle, 'and we'll be off.'
+
+Whatever Craig's contempt of the rain might be, it did not seem to extend
+to other liquids; for he took the bottle, and applying it to his lips, did
+not remove it until the bottom of it was not a little inclined toward the
+ceiling; perhaps its elevation might even have increased, had not Jones
+reminded him that it being late at night, the vessel could not be
+replenished, and that there was a 'small child' to be helped after him,
+who hated above all things sucking at the neck of a dry bottle.
+
+Craig permitted the bottle to be taken from his hand, and stood with his
+eyes fixed on the floor in deep thought; nor did he arouse himself until
+Jones took him by the arm, and said:
+
+'Come on; all's ready.'
+
+Craig started at the words. 'The pistols and the glim?'
+
+'I've got 'em.'
+
+'And the crow-bar?'
+
+'All snug _here_,' said Jones, touching the pocket of his great-coat.
+
+'Good! Follow me.' Craig strode across the room, and went out.
+
+It was a dreadful night. The rain spouted furiously from the
+water-conductors, and sped boiling and foaming through the streets. The
+wind too caught it up as it fell, and swept it in long sheets through the
+streets; and as the two men battled their way along, it seemed actually to
+hiss around them, like the long lash of a whip. The tempest had a rare
+frolic that night, and right merrily did it howl over the house-tops, and
+through the narrow streets; and fast and furiously did the water bubble
+and boil, as it dashed on like mad to the deep river, to take refuge in
+her bosom from its tormentor the hurricane.
+
+Not a thing was stirring; not a beast. Not a man, except the two felons. A
+right glorious night it was for rapine and midnight murder. The house-dog
+had slunk in his straw, and the watchman was dozing away, under some shed,
+or stoop, or in some dark door-way. There was nothing to stand in the way
+of these enterprising men, save the fierce storm, and what cared they for
+that? It was the very night for them. If it came to blows, or if a life
+was to be taken, the death-cry would be lost in the howling of the wind;
+it was the night of all nights for _them_; and so thought Craig and his
+comrade, as they toiled along, with their heads bent down to keep the rain
+out of their faces.
+
+'Is it far?' at last inquired Jones; 'we've come a mile.'
+
+'Half a mile more,' replied Craig; and that was all that passed between
+them, until they stood in front of Harson's house.
+
+'This is it,' said Craig.
+
+He lifted the latch of the gate opening into the door-yard, and approached
+the house.
+
+'Where are we to begin?' inquired Jones.
+
+Craig pointed to a small window on a level with, or rather sunk somewhat
+below, the surface of the ground, with a kind of area around it. '_There_;
+there are iron gratings, but they are set in the wood, which is all
+rotten. Quick! try them with the crow-bar; they'll give.'
+
+Jones, with an alacrity and adroitness which showed a long experience in
+such matters, after feeling his way to the place, and passing his hand
+over the bars to discover their exact situation, inserted his crow-bar
+between the stone-work and the wood, and at the very first application
+forced the whole out. A wooden shutter which opened from within, being
+merely secured by a wooden button, gave way before a strong pressure of
+his hand, and left the entrance open.
+
+'Go in quick!--don't keep a fellow in the rain all night,' said Craig, in
+a sharp whisper. 'It's only three feet to the floor. Get in, will you?'
+
+'Shut up! Cuss ye!' exclaimed Jones, savagely; 'let me take my own way.'
+
+As he spoke, he inserted his feet, and gradually let himself down until he
+touched the floor. In a moment Craig was at his side, and closed the
+shutter.
+
+'Now, quick! a light!' whispered he. In another minute, the dark lantern
+was lighted, and Craig, taking it up and throwing back the slide, turned
+it carefully around the place. It was a cellar, filled with empty barrels
+and boxes; and seemed to be a sort of receptacle for rubbish of all
+descriptions. At one end was a door leading to the upper part of the
+house. It was partly open. Without a word, Craig went to it and ascended
+the stairs, which were shut off from the kitchen by another door.
+
+Craig opened this, and crossed the room with a quick yet stealthy step,
+but with the air of one perfectly familiar with the precincts. Passing
+through the entry, he went into Harson's sitting-room; from there into the
+outer room, communicating with the street.
+
+'We'll open the street door, Bill,' said he, 'in case we have to bolt
+quick. There,' said he, as he drew back two bolts, and turned the key,
+don't forget the road. Leave all the doors open. That'll do. We'll get the
+girl first, and then we'll see what's to be done. First door at the head
+of the stairs. Quiet, quiet; there's a dog in the next room.'
+
+Stealing up the stairs, they opened the door, and the full light of the
+lamp fell in the child's room. They could hear her low, regular breathing
+as she slept. Craig handed the light to his companion.
+
+'I'll take her,' whispered he. 'Bring the light so that I can see. There,
+that will do.' He bent over her. As he did so, he accidentally stirred the
+bed-clothes, and the child opened her eyes; and before he could prevent
+it, a single wild cry escaped her as she caught sight of the wild faces
+which were bending over her.
+
+'Christ! how she yelps!' exclaimed Craig, in a fierce whisper. He clapped
+his hand over her mouth. 'By G-d! there goes the dog too! we must be off.
+My chicken,' said he, in a low tone, 'if you understand plain English, you
+know what I mean when I say if you whisper loud enough to wake a cat,
+you'll get a bullet through your head. Hist! Bill, was that a door
+creaking? I can't hear for the d----d dog!' Both stopped and listened.
+
+'It was only the door below,' said Jones. 'Quick! quick!'
+
+Craig caught the child out of bed, wrapped a blanket about her to stifle
+her cries, in case she should make any, and moved to the door.
+
+'Turn the light on the door; I can't see. There, that will do. Now then,
+it's open, and the game's ours.'
+
+'_Not quite_!' said a stern voice; and the next instant Craig received a
+blow from a fist which sent him reeling back into the room.
+
+'Watch! watch! murder! thieves!' bellowed Harson from without, while from
+the din, at least forty pug-dogs seemed to be barking in all parts of the
+entry.
+
+'Shoot him! shoot him down!' shouted Craig, springing to the door. 'By
+G-d! the door's shut, and he's holding it from the outside!' exclaimed he,
+pulling it with all his force. 'He's as strong as a bull. Quick! shoot
+through the panel! He must stand behind the knob. Fire!'
+
+Instead of obeying him, Bill Jones seized the child. 'Hark ye, old
+fellow,' said he; 'shut up, or I'll dash this girl's brains out. If I
+don't, d--n me!'
+
+This appeal was heard, and operated upon Harson; but in a different manner
+from what they expected, for he relaxed his hold of the door so suddenly,
+that Craig fell backward, and bursting into the room, with a single blow
+prostrated the burglar, who was bending over the child, and dashed the
+light to the ground. His advantage was only momentary; for in a minute
+Craig flung himself upon him. But the old man's blood was up. In his young
+days he had been a powerful wrestler; and even now the robber found him no
+easy conquest, for he said, in a husky tone: 'This won't do, Bill. Drop
+the girl and come here. This blasted old fool will keep us all night.'
+
+Instead of obeying him, Jones stole to the head of the stairs and
+listened. In an instant he sprang back.
+
+'We must be off, Tim! Some one is coming. Quick! Let loose the man.'
+
+But there were two to that bargain; for Harson had heard the words as well
+as the robber, and he held him with a grip like a vice.
+
+'Let go your hold and we'll be off,' said Craig, in a husky voice.
+
+'Never! You shall taste what you are so ready to give!' said Harson,
+fiercely.
+
+'Bill, there's no time to lose!' exclaimed Craig, in a stern tone. 'Shoot
+him, and have done with it! There, now; I'll hold him.'
+
+The report of a pistol followed; but as it did so, a deep groan came from
+Craig. 'You've done for me, Bill. The old fellow dodged. Run! run!--my
+rope's out.'
+
+'Can't I help you, Tim?' exclaimed Jones.
+
+'No, no; go! Get off; I'll not blow on you.'
+
+Thus adjured, the robber paused no longer. But escape was now no easy
+matter; for at the door he was saluted by a loud voice:
+
+'Hallo! Harry; is this you?'
+
+'No, no, a thief! Grab him, Frank!'
+
+The next instant Jones was in the grip of a powerful man, but he was a
+giant himself, and desperate. He flung himself with all his force upon his
+adversary, and both went to the floor together; Jones' hand on the other's
+throat.
+
+There is something fearful in the grapple of a desperate man, even when
+feeble in frame; and in the case of Jones, who knew that every thing
+depended on his efforts, and whose fierce spirit was backed by muscles of
+iron, the conflict was one of such fury that the very walls of the old
+house shook. From step to step, from the landing to the hall, they fought;
+tugging and tearing at each other like two dogs, while Harry Harson in
+vain hung about them; the darkness and the rapidity of their motions
+preventing him from distinguishing friend from foe.
+
+'By G-d! he's an ox for strength,' at last said Frank; 'if you'd do any
+thing, Harry, go to the door and sing out for the watch. I'll hold him.'
+
+It might be that in order to utter these words the Doctor relaxed his
+grip, or it might be that the knowledge of the increased risk that he
+would run gave additional strength to the robber, for he made a single
+desperate effort, tore himself from the iron grasp that held him down,
+rose to his knee, and striking the Doctor a blow in the face that for a
+moment bewildered him, sprang to his feet, dashed Harson from the door,
+bounded across the room between the hall and the street-door, and darted
+into the street at full speed.
+
+'D--n me, Harry, he's off!' said the Doctor, assuming a sitting posture on
+the floor. 'He deserves to escape, for he fought like a devil for it. D--n
+him, he's a brave fellow! There's no use in chasing him, I suppose; you
+and I ain't cut out for running. If that last crack had hit me on the
+nose, it would have smashed it. Come, let's see after the other fellow;
+perhaps he's playing possum, and may be off. If you don't stop the barking
+of that d----d dog of yours, I'll kill him.' Groping their way back to the
+upper floor, from which they caught sight of Spite, rapidly retreating as
+they advanced, they found the house-keeper standing in the room which they
+had just left, arrayed in a particularly large white night-gown and
+wearing a particularly high cap, with a particularly fierce white ribbon
+on the top of it, and bearing in her hand a dim rush-light.
+
+'Quick! Martha; more lights, and some brandy!' said Harson, pushing past
+her. 'Thank God! _you're_ not hurt, Annie! Come, Doctor, this poor devil
+is human,' said he, pointing to Craig, who lay on the floor apparently
+dead. 'Look to him; he breathes. I hear him.'
+
+It needed no second appeal; for before he had finished, the Doctor had
+turned the robber over, opened his vest, and displayed a wound in his
+breast. He thrust his finger in it, and then looking up at Harry, shook
+his head.
+
+'He's a case; _must_ go!'
+
+'Poor fellow! God only knows what may have driven him to this. Help me to
+put him on the bed.'
+
+Taking him in their arms, they placed him on the bed; and there they sat
+and watched him until the dawn of day. The bright sunshine came cheerily
+in at the window; the storm had passed, and the sky looked clear and blue,
+as if it had never been unruffled. And at that hour, and in that room,
+with the golden sunbeams streaming in, lay Tim Craig, his head pressed
+heavily back upon the pillow, bound round with a cloth dabbled in blood.
+His face was blackened and bruised, and his shirt and the bed-clothes
+stained with blood. His breath was short and heavy, and at times, gasping;
+his mouth half open, and his dull eye fixed with a heavy leaden stare at
+the ceiling. His race was nearly run. He seemed utterly unconscious of the
+presence of any one, until the door opened, and Harson, who had gone out,
+came in.
+
+He went to the bed, and leaned over the burglar. As he did so, his shadow
+falling across the man's face, attracted his attention, and he turned his
+heavy eye, and asked, in a husky voice:
+
+'Will I go? What does he say?'
+
+Harson shook his head. 'It's almost over with you, my poor fellow; God
+help you!'
+
+The man turned his head away and looked at the wall.
+
+'Do you understand me?' said Harson, anxiously bending over him.
+
+'Yes, yes,' replied the man in the same mumbling tone; 'yes, I'm come for;
+my time's up. I was a strong man yesterday; and now! now----! It's very
+strange! very strange!' He muttered a few inarticulate words, and then
+resumed his old position, looking at the wall, with no sound escaping him
+except the low panting of his breath. Suddenly he said, in a louder tone:
+
+'It's all very strange _here_.' He pointed to his head. 'Were you ever at
+sea? Yes; well, well--did you ever see a ship toss and swing to and
+fro--to and fro--to and fro, and yet keep straight on? Well, my brain
+reels and swims in that way. There are dim strange things; men, beasts,
+birds, and ghosts hovering about it; but I see straight on, and they are
+on all sides of the path; yes, I see it straight, straight, straight and
+plain. I'm going on it. They can't make me swerve; but it's awful to have
+such company about me on such a journey. Come close to me!'
+
+Harson drew his chair close to the bed and sat down. 'I've sent for a
+clergyman,' said he, in a low tone; 'He'll be here presently. You must
+endeavor to chase away these thoughts; they are only dreams.'
+
+Craig's thin lips contracted into a smile which was horrible, as without
+moving his eyes from their fixed position, he whispered: 'No, no; he won't
+do it--he'll not do it. No; I won't blow on you, Bill. Ha! how hot that
+bullet was! Lift me up! _He's_ there! Yes, lift me up, so that I may be
+above him; up! up! Ha! ha! that'll do. Bill, do you recollect the old
+school-master? There! Up! up!'
+
+Harson put his arm under him, and raised him. As he did so, Craig's head
+fell against his shoulder, dabbling it with blood. The next instant he
+stretched himself out at full length, gave a shudder; a long rattling
+breath followed; and he fell back on the pillow--dead.
+
+
+
+
+LINES TO DEATH.
+
+ How vain is human strength to flee,
+ Thou mighty ONE! from thee!
+
+
+ Thou hid'st the scenes that lie the grave beyond--
+ Thou hast the secrets of the world unseen;
+ Where the loved ones, the beautiful, the fond,
+ And all who tossed on life's wild sea have been,
+ Have gone in silence at thy dreadful call,
+ Great conqueror of all!
+
+ Empires are crumbled at thy dread command,
+ And nations rise and nourish but to fall;
+ Even earth is thine; and thou e'er long shalt stand,
+ And mark its wealth, and power, and beauty, all
+ Fade and depart as sunbeams in the heaven
+ Vanish and die at even!
+
+ The midnight storm, the tempest raging high,
+ The sweeping pestilence, and fell disease,
+ Rude winter's blast, and balmy summer's sigh,
+ Earth, and the sea whose murmurs never cease,
+ All are but agents of thy sovereign will,
+ Thy bidding to fulfil.
+
+ Couldst thou to man's earth-fettered soul reveal
+ The bliss thou bringest to the pure in heart,
+ Would sudden horror o'er his spirit steal,
+ When called at last with low-born joys to part?
+ Would he not rather sigh for that bless'd shore,
+ Where death is known no more?
+
+ Stern Power! though others shudder at thy tread,
+ And vainly seek thy arrow to evade,
+ Before thy stroke I fain would bow my head,
+ Nor grieve to see my transient pleasures fade:
+ In thy embrace my sorrows all shall cease,
+ For in the grave is peace!
+
+ H. C.
+
+
+
+
+SKETCHES OF EAST-FLORIDA.
+
+NUMBER FOUR.
+
+ST. AUGUSTINE: THE LAST LOOK.
+
+
+Our schooner was 'up' for Charleston by the first fair wind; but the
+captain was fastidious, and the only fair wind was directly aft. A point
+or two off would not do, unless it had been blowing for a day or two and
+was likely to continue till the captain could land his passengers in
+Charleston. Running in on the Georgia coast was always very delightful to
+the passengers, but not at all so to Captain S----. We had taken berths in
+the schooner about the middle of April, and when the first week in May had
+passed by, we began to think it would be difficult to find the precise
+article of air which the captain desired. During this time it seemed to
+have become coquettish, giving us all kinds of northerly, all varieties of
+east, and a preponderance of westerly wind, finishing off with a sirocco
+from the south-west, ('a Boston east wind boiled,' and the only unpleasant
+summer wind on the coast,) after which it stopped short; the sand and the
+orange blossoms settled again, and every thing hung perpendicular. The
+next morning a puff came up from the south in a very blustering manner, as
+though it had an immense capital to back it, but proved very short-winded.
+Our little craft thinking to beat us, shook its sails out right and left,
+and dashed out of the harbor, rounding the point in a handsome manner; but
+before reaching the bar it slacked away, till 'small by degrees and
+beautifully less,' it came to a dead stand; and the same evening we dashed
+back again with a no'th-east-by-east behind us, to the great delight of
+promenaders on the sea-wall and the public in general. Ladies rode through
+the streets at a hard-gallop; little niggers crept under balconies; and an
+individual who shall be nameless performed a feat with a certain Di.
+Vernon of that ilk, which resulted in a bill the next morning of some odd
+dollars for extra motion, and a severe lesson upon the moralities of
+fast-riding. The mid-day weather at this time was decidedly summerish, the
+temperature having the _feel_ of about seventy in our latitude, but
+ranging there from eighty to ninety degrees.
+
+We were beginning the summer custom of gathering every morning to meet the
+'doctor' (sea-breeze) on the square, only a short walk below, which I
+prolonged on the sea-wall to the little schooner, examined the labels on
+the berths, crushed an orange at the corner shop, and lounged up to the
+nine-pin alley to close up the 'unfinished business.' After bowling, if it
+was too warm to invent any thing that would not be forgotten before
+dinner, the old routine was the order of the day; and back-gammon or
+flirtation had it, according as we were nearer the Florida House or the
+one 'round the corner.' The thirty or forty others who had helped make the
+winter pleasant, had been gone for weeks, and our little parties for
+bathing or riding, or any other trifling matter which might be better than
+a cigar on the piazza, had that snug kind of personality which is so much
+more pleasant than safe, that I half-wished the thirty or forty had gone
+much sooner than they did.
+
+I was sitting on the piazza one morning with a number of un-appropriated
+blank hours before me, a little embarrassed whether to tease the big bear
+in the yard or lean over and give up to it, with the old dog who was
+snapping at flies on the floor, when it struck me as something very fresh,
+that as the wind was still two points off, I could make one more sally
+into the country. Before the thought had time to cool, my horse was
+brought to the door, and looking about for a companion, I asked Miss
+H----, who hesitated and declined; but I found one in Lieut. T----, who
+was that morning going over to Picolata. The distance is eighteen miles,
+through an unbroken pine-barren, (one opening only, at Fort Searle, twelve
+miles out,) and an under-growth of palmettos of just sufficient height for
+Indians to hide in. For a long time the travel over all that portion of
+the territory lying south of a line fifty miles north of us, was with an
+escort of fifteen or twenty men, who moved at a slow rate, a hundred yards
+apart, so as not to present to the Indians more than one or two shots at a
+time from any one point.
+
+Notwithstanding the precaution of a strong escort every day, out or in, on
+the Picolata road, there had been more downright murdering there than in
+any other part of the territory, some having been shot down almost in
+sight of Augustine. This was not escort-day, but if it had been, our
+horses were not disposed to be six hours in the sun, in going so short a
+distance. The little grey steed that I had been using for some weeks was
+not by any means a lady's article, but he had been alongside of them in
+many a ride on the beach, and so learned the trick of combining the
+playful and gallant in a very pretty manner. His ambition was to be always
+up to the mark, and a head more if his companion would allow it; but at
+the least indication of rivalry his head went down, and nothing less than
+iron muscles could keep him from his twelve-mile gait. If not well-matched
+it was his delight to dash ahead for a hundred yards, and then stop and
+look back, or perhaps return, make a short sweep around his companion, jog
+on sociably for a little, and then repeat the manoeuvre; and in doing this
+my arms were only sufficient to guide him a little in case he attempted
+the barren, and keep him clear of the saw-palmetto. T----'s animal
+belonged at Picolata. The quarter-master at the barracks had sent him up
+to be taken over, and as we mounted at the Florida House, I could not help
+smiling as I recognized the same fellow that the quarter-master had
+politely sent me for a similar purpose some time previous. He was
+long-bodied and very long-limbed, and having been brought up in camp, his
+motion had all the stiffness of the marching step. His point, any two
+points being given, was to make the straight line between them in the
+shortest possible time, in an unbroken trot; but there was no danger of
+his breaking it; he was not capable of a gallop; his limbs couldn't be
+brought to it.
+
+We passed out of town at an easy pace, talking over the last night's ball;
+and while crossing the bridge the lieutenant called my attention to his
+saddle, a cast-iron frame thinly covered with leather, leaving large
+rib-spaces on the back, which he commended as being delightfully cool.
+'But, my dear fellow,' said I, 'why didn't you get a blanket?' He replied
+that after getting accustomed to it, it was much easier than the padded
+saddle. 'Do you know,' said I, 'that that horse is a trotter?' 'I'm used
+to trotters,' said he. 'You ease up a little in the stirrups?' 'No;
+contrary to rules.'
+
+We now entered the barren, and the moment the horses dipped their hoofs in
+the sand, the old 'forker,' seeing the problem to be solved, took the bit
+in his teeth and started for Picolata. At the first dash the forker went
+ahead. He had laid his course, as they say at sea, and no up-helm or
+down-helm had the slightest effect upon him. His mind was made up; no
+wavering, no playfulness, no scarishness, no looking to the right or left.
+Picolata was the point; 'no two ways' to Picolata; he was on the right
+way, and he was the horse to do it in double-quick time. The little grey
+had evidently thought it was too hot for any thing in his line; but as
+soon as he noticed any thing like game in his companion, his head went
+down as usual; and after a little hard running, we brushed by the old
+fellow, made the requisite heading, wheeled, passing the forker on the
+larboard quarter, and made the circuit, to his great satisfaction. 'Here
+we go!' said I, as we passed him again; and this time the grey kept 'head
+on' for some miles, till at length I succeeded in stopping him, and looked
+back. The forker was coming in a bee-line, T---- bobbing up and down 'with
+a short uneasy motion,' endeavoring to make a seat of his jacket which he
+had stripped off; and as he came nearer I noticed that he was trying to
+look very cool and comfortable. We waited till they came up, but there was
+no stopping; the forker went by without winking or noticing the grey in
+the slightest manner.
+
+Easing up on the reins till we came abreast, 'How are you now?' said I.
+'Oh, this is nothing' said T----, turning round a very little with a
+highly-charged expression of face; 'a little rough; yes, a little--little
+rough; but you observe my seat, Sir--West Point?' 'O yes,' said I; 'very
+fine--and cool, I suspect.' But there was not much chance of intelligible
+conversation. T---- kept on talking, but his remarks, meant for the
+quarter-master, were so barbarously broken, that I could only guess
+occasionally at some exclamations, which for point and emphasis were
+highly military. Our rate of travel was not, you observe, from five to
+ten, or from eight to twelve miles an hour, but exactly ten. That was the
+forker's motion, from which there was no deviation. If he was struck, his
+heels went up suddenly and very high, but it was no impediment. He
+evidently took the blow as a military order for a rear motion; nothing
+more, and no occasion for malice. Now, if any body wishes to know about
+the face of the country; how bounded, what products, etc., between
+Augustine and Picolata, I am unable to give the slightest information from
+any notes taken that morning. My perceptions were all _in medias res_; and
+I only remember seeing a wild turkey that we scared up, and an alligator
+that made for the water while we were a quarter of a mile distant, and
+splashed in in a great fright some time after we had passed him.
+
+In little more than an hour we entered the opening at Fort Searle so
+suddenly, that I heard the orderly report, as he marched up to the
+commanding officer: 'Two gentlemen from Augustine, Sir.' 'Very well,' said
+the officer; and he turned to receive the lieutenant, but T---- was past
+all dignities. Stretching himself on a bench he ordered brandy-and-water,
+and as that was not quite the thing, added a little cherry bounce, and
+finished with old Jamaica, and presently went round a corner with a
+tumbler of the latter; but whether for external or internal application, I
+am unable to say. Without stopping long enough to get stiff, we mounted
+again, and after a few closing flourishes from the little grey entered the
+city of Picolata, consisting of one house, and were greeted with the
+chattering of ten thousand black-birds all in full chorus. A boat coming
+up very opportunely, we took passage in her that night, and next morning
+were at Pilatka.
+
+A few miles south of that place, there is a small plantation on the river
+that had been deserted and the house burned down by the Indians during the
+first winter of the war. Some weeks previous, while at Pilatka, Colonel
+---- had politely offered me a sergeant and nine men to visit the place,
+but shortly after reaching it they complained of the musquitoes and rode
+back to the camp, leaving me with the guide and Gen. W---- to finish the
+survey. I now found a young physician who was waiting an escort for Tampa
+Bay, and we went out alone; and after studying trails for a long time, and
+taking directions by the compass, we came in sight of the hammock when
+some miles distant, and entering by a winding road that was arched over so
+as to be almost dark as night, we emerged, after a quarter of a mile, in a
+little round spot in the wilderness, which for quiet beauty was beyond any
+thing I had ever before seen. There were some forty acres in the circle,
+and yet it looked not unlike a dollar in a tumbler, so high and dense was
+the forest. The magnolias, a hundred feet in air, were in full blossom,
+their white tops making an unbroken wreath over the area, while the lower
+branches of the live-oaks were loaded with the long moss, hanging like
+curtains, motionless in the bright light, and not a single bird on the
+tree-tops to break the perfect charm of the place. Beautiful, very
+beautiful! but how strangely still! A squirrel chattering, or the rat-tat
+of a woodpecker, would have been something; but there was not a single
+voice out; not so much as the hum of a musquito, though it was the hottest
+of summer days.
+
+Why didn't the oaks speak, or the magnolias? If they had, shaken their
+white heads, and raising their trailing garments, had all burst out in
+some grand anthem, I should only have thought it quite in character; and
+if personally addressed, it would have seemed entirely a matter of course.
+I should have replied civilly, begged pardon for intruding in so informal
+a manner, and backed out as soon as possible; and perhaps the click of a
+rifle would have produced the same effect. We rode around the little gem,
+and found the charred timbers where the house stood, and a few orange
+trees that the Indians had left; but the cool spring was so hid in the
+high grass, that we were forced back with parched lips to the flat water
+at Pilatka, which place we reached in time for a late dinner; and just as
+the evening set in I took passage again for Picolata.
+
+All the boats running on the river were in the government service, and
+ours at this time was loaded fore and aft with a company of dragoons,
+bound to Black Creek. As we left the dock, another large boat came out in
+a pompous manner, and gave us chase; and as the day had been intensely
+hot, a large line of clouds rolled over the bluff at the same time,
+probably from the gulf _en route_ to the Atlantic, and moving slowly
+across the river, gathered their black folds around the pine-tops,
+shutting all up, river and forest, every thing but our chimneys, in utter
+darkness. And now began a scene which combined little and great in a
+manner quite fantastic. Boatmen swearing and yelling to each other as the
+boats came near collision, and that infernal scream sounding off through
+the pine barrens like some spirit newly damned; horses prancing and
+threshing on the bows; men growling at cards, and over head thunder and
+lightning leading off the storm in a very brilliant and point-blank
+manner; all which was quite rousing and melo-dramatic. While I was
+noticing the pilot's manner of steering by flashes, a gentleman came up,
+whom I recognised as a resident of St. Augustine; and as he had a horse at
+Picolata, we agreed to go over together that night, as the darkness was
+rather favorable, and the road being sandy, we could ride rapidly without
+being heard.
+
+It was late in the evening when we reached Picolata; and with a good deal
+of uproar, men shouting, steam puffing, and half a dozen blacks
+gesticulating on shore, we each made a fortunate leap to the dock; and
+walking up to the camp in a blaze of pitch-pine, we ordered our horses,
+and at eleven o'clock entered the pine woods for St. Augustine. 'I
+wouldn't go over to-night,' said the man as he brought up my horse; 'the
+rascals have been seen about here within a day or two; for God's sake,
+Sir, _don't_ go over to-night!' But this only gave a keener zest to the
+ride. I had carried with me every where a double-barrelled gun, but I had
+found it an awkward companion, and having been all day in the saddle I
+concluded to leave it to be sent over, and mean time trust to my friend's
+pistols.
+
+The rain had ceased, and the wind had gone down, but the night was still
+so dark that we could only guess at the road by the strip of light over
+head, and now and then a flash, which would light up the avenue for a long
+distance ahead, and then leave it still darker than before. As we entered
+the barren at an easy trot, I was pleased to notice that the darkness or
+the storm had tamed my little grey into a very sober humor, and his
+companion also was in a very moralizing way. There was no starting at the
+lightning, no attempt at running, but with a noiseless tread they stepped
+daintily in the sand, pointing their ears hither and yon, and as it seemed
+to me, affecting a little scarishness, though what they could hear when
+the forest was so breathless, it was difficult to imagine; but every
+little while they would both leap some fifteen feet across the road,
+(which couldn't be affectation) shiver a little, and then pick their way
+carefully as before. We could see nothing, hear nothing; but horses are
+keen snuffers, and they might smell when we couldn't; but what was
+singular, the vaulting was done from the same side of the road.
+
+We were still keeping up a little small-talk, when some miles in the
+forest, both horses, without any jump or start of any kind, stopped
+suddenly; and looking ahead, we saw something moving stealthily toward us.
+My companion cocked a pistol and challenged; but we only heard a little
+grumbling, and I counted him a dead man; but before we had time to guess
+about it, something brushed by, and by a flash of light we saw a glitter
+of buttons, and a man on horseback. Whoever or whatever he was, we saw him
+but a moment, and he was soon out of hearing. With a remark or two upon
+the fool-hardiness of the man, we quickened our pace, and went on at a
+dashing rate, abreast and Indian fashion, just as it happened; now one
+leading and now the other, according to the wind of our horses; and in
+this manner we were passing the most dangerous part of the road, when
+there was a sudden whizzing about our ears, and the report of half a dozen
+rifles. The little grey reared and plunged and I landed--where, I don't
+know; but the next that I remember, I was standing alone in the pine
+barren. I had been running for a long time; how far I couldn't tell, being
+conscious only of dodging often from one tree to another. On looking about
+I remarked that the clouds had opened a little, and that there was nothing
+to be seen or heard in any direction. Presently I heard a yell, and
+looking around, a strapping Indian, with his rifle drawn to his eye, fired
+as I faced him, and the ball parted a lock of my hair in a manner very
+embarrassing. I levelled upon the rascal, but missed fire; the rain had
+wet the powder in the tube. The fellow took no pains to hide himself, but
+was very coolly loading again, and had got his ball ready, when I once
+more started off at full speed.
+
+It was a sharp race, and a warm one. After running a mile or more, there
+was a small stream to be crossed; and with a few well-balanced steps on a
+half-decayed log that lay at the edge of the water, I reached the opposite
+bank just as my pursuer stepped on at the other end. Hearing a strange
+kind of shock, I turned and saw the big six-footed animal astride the log,
+twisting and writhing about in great agony. He had slipped and fallen in
+such a manner as to pain him almost beyond endurance. I stood on the bank
+and laughed at him; and--shall I confess it?--I tried half a dozen more
+caps at the fellow, with a most savage deliberateness; to all which he
+paid not the slightest attention; but as his strength came gradually back,
+I took to my heels again, and fortunately reached the highway....
+
+The last ten miles of our ride that night were passed over in a very
+headlong manner: we stopped only once, as we heard the cry of some hounds
+on the south side, and then on again, keeping our horses just within their
+speed, till at the worst place on the road, we gave up the reins and let
+them go. In less than two hours from Picolata, we snuffed the salt air
+again; and reaching the open country, walked our horses leisurely into St.
+Augustine.
+
+As we entered the city my companion left me; and as I drew rein on the
+square, I noticed that the schooner was still at the dock, and all about
+the city was quiet and undisturbed. The storm had gone by, its skirts
+hanging on the eastern horizon, and forming a back-ground to the light of
+the light-house, while the city and bay were bright in the starlight; and
+if stars shine any brighter in the small hours, they were doing their best
+then. All looked pleasant and quite at home, even to the sentry at the
+corner; and there was nothing, you would say, to make one sad; but as I
+turned the corner I drew a breath of such yawning profundity that the old
+dog at the Florida House started up and growled impromptu. That dog had
+held a stout nigger all night in the yard, not long before; but
+fortunately he knew me, and after smelling, to make sure that all was
+right, he followed me into an out-house, when I rolled Bob out of a
+cradle, and giving a general order in a low voice for a warm bath in the
+morning, found my quarters and went to bed.
+
+At sunrise the next morning I was half awake, grasping at the skirts of a
+pleasant dream, when Bob came in, blew about the room for awhile, and
+cried out 'Massa, did you order um wom bath?' 'No; clear out! Eh? warm
+bath? Yes; warm bath, to be sure.' And Bob went out, and came in directly
+with two wenches and a warm bath. 'How's the wind Bob?' 'De wind?' 'Yes;
+where's the wind' 'Dun know, Sah.' 'Well, go out in the balcony and see
+where it comes from.' Bob shouted through the open window, 'De wind come
+from de Souf.'
+
+I made but one spring, and the blacks vanished. Going below, I found the
+house in commotion. The schooner was to sail at nine o'clock, and the
+signal would be the report of a two-pounder which the captain carried on
+his quarter-deck. At eight o'clock I had been all over town from the fort
+to the powder house; looked in at the church, where were some fifteen or
+twenty kneeling, silent and devotional; and was seated at breakfast, when
+we heard the captain's gun, an hour before the time. 'My God!' said I, 'I
+can't go without seeing Mrs. J---- and kind Mrs. G----; and then there's
+the pretty Di. Vernon!' (I had bade them good-by a dozen times.) I rushed
+into the street, and seeing half-a-dozen ladies not far off, gave them a
+touch-and-go shake; rushed up a wrong street, then back again, and finally
+came out on the square and saw the little schooner's sails bellied out
+full; passengers waving their handkerchiefs, and the people all around
+crying out to me to hurry, or I should lose my chance. But I _didn't_
+hurry. The idea of hurry, after we had waited six weeks! That captain too,
+had he been asleep all this time, and just awaked? No; I did not hurry,
+but walked leisurely across the square, looking over my shoulder
+occasionally to see if ---- was any where in sight, for she had promised
+to be at the dock; and passing over the long wharf in the same stubborn
+way, I stepped on board the schooner with a stiffer upper lip than I ever
+remember to have had in that climate. The moment that my feet touched the
+deck, the ropes slipped and away flew the schooner; but in all this 'heat,
+haste and hunger,' from a half-swallowed breakfast, and consignments of
+pacquets and kind wishes that were left behind, the sentiment of my last
+look was burnt to a cinder.
+
+
+
+
+THOUGHTS FROM BULWER.
+
+BY MRS. M. T. W. CHANDLER.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ It cannot be that earth was given for our abiding place,
+ Or that for nought we're darkly doomed the storms of life to face;
+ It cannot be our being's cast from 'neath the ocean wave
+ Of vast Eternity, to sink _again_ within its grave.
+ Else tell me why the aspiring thoughts, the glorious hopes of man,
+ Which spring up from his 'heart of hearts,' brook not earth's narrow span;
+ Oh! tell me why unsatisfied forever here they roam,
+ And seem to claim in higher spheres a refuge and a home.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Why is it that the rainbow and the tints of evening clouds
+ Dispel the mists in which the world our spirits still enshrouds?
+ The chord they strike!--oh, tell me not that it can be of earth--
+ The golden heart-string that they touch is _not_ of mortal birth:
+ The very buds and blossoms, and the balmy summer air,
+ Awake within us shadows vague of things more bright and fair;
+ 'Tis almost like _remembrance_--oh! would that I could tell
+ The meaning of that hidden charm my spirit knows so well!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ A simple tone can rouse it; a smile, or even a sigh
+ Can make the ghost-like shadows flit before my dreaming eye;
+ 'Tis one of life's deep mysteries; in vain we seek to trace
+ The hidden spell's dark origin that chains our feeble race:
+ But, oh! may we not fancy, may we not sweetly think,
+ 'Tis between us and another world a dim mysterious link?
+ May we not hope that secret chord from God to man was given,
+ To shadow forth within his soul pure images of heaven?
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ The very stars which pierce the veil far o'er this world of sin,
+ And seem to give faint visions of a paradise within,
+ In all their hallowed loveliness, their vague and mystic lore,
+ Oh! do they not seem beckoning to a purer, holier shore?
+ And tell me why the well-loved eyes which here upon us beam
+ Gleam radiantly o'er our path, then vanish like a dream;
+ My MOTHER! oh! my Mother! shall they find belief in me,
+ Who tell me there's no happy land where I shall meet with thee?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ I _know_ there is a heaven which is peopled not with shades,
+ Where the buds and flowers ne'er wither, and the rainbow never fades:
+ Where the mourners cease from mourning, and in smiles of joy are drest,
+ Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest:
+ Oh! there is gladness in the thought; 'tis deep, deep joy to me
+ To feel that those I love so well I there again shall see;
+ To know that though around them now my very heart-strings twine,
+ They'll be forever with me there--forever more be mine!
+
+
+
+
+SONNET: TO THE OLD YEAR.
+
+
+ Good-by, Old Year! we wait to greet the New,
+ And hope within its circling hours to see
+ More of content and less of misery.
+ Yet, haply, all life's toilsome journey through,
+ No happier scenes than thine will meet our view;
+ If so, we humbly bow to Heaven's decree,
+ With hearts, though wounded, still as firm and true
+ As when we first knelt to the DEITY.
+ Many will weep, Old Year! while thou dost lay
+ Thine aged head within the voiceless tomb.
+ _We_ weep, yet on the clouds of grief doth play
+ The bow of promise, lighting up their gloom.
+ Not so with many hearts that crushed and bleeding lie,
+ Whose only thought of gladness is like thee to die!
+
+_Brooklyn, Dec., 1843._ HANS VON SPIEGEL.
+
+
+
+THE MAIL ROBBER.
+
+NUMBER SIX.
+
+
+LETTER TO THE EDITOR FROM HIS ENGLISH CORRESPONDENT.
+
+Sir: My friends abroad complain that my last letter reached them in small
+type, most pernicious to English eyes, and half hidden among the rubbish
+of your editorial remarks, literary notices, and chit-chat with your
+million butterfly correspondents. Unless I am better served in future, I
+shall be compelled to transfer my patronage to the post-office, dangerous
+as it is, and liable to the occasional interference of American citizens.
+I have conferred with an attorney, who tells me that there is just ground
+for an action for breach of trust, in the unfaithful performance of the
+duty you have undertaken. It remains with yourself to avert any such
+consequence, by attending more strictly in future to the proper conveyance
+of my correspondence.
+
+During the last week I have received a note from the gentleman who stole
+the letters. This I enclose to you; and as I do not know where to address
+him, I will simply reply to him, through the Magazine, that although I
+have the highest respect for his talents, I would see him several miles on
+his way to the devil, before I would comply with his polite request.
+
+ Truly yours, etc.,
+ ---- ----.
+
+
+THE MAIL ROBBER'S NOTE.
+
+My Dear Friend: You will be surprised that I have found out your address,
+and indeed it required some sagacity. But now that I have, you will pardon
+me for broaching a matter in which we are mutually concerned. You must be
+aware how horribly I have been used by the Editor of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+and all through the share I have unfortunately had in your troublesome
+correspondence. He still persists in refusing to pay me a proper
+remuneration for my services, for which hitherto, I am sorry to say, I
+have received only insult and vexation. I have been advised by my lawyer
+to institute a suit at law against the miscreant, and matters are now in
+progress toward that desirable result.
+
+In the mean time I have thought proper to apply to your sense of justice
+for a partial compensation of the trouble you have caused me. My character
+has been assailed, my tranquillity disturbed, and my valuable time taken
+up, without a penny of remuneration. Now, Sir, if you think fit to
+transmit to the address of 'M. R.,' through the post-office, a hundred
+dollars ($100), I will overlook what is past, and resign solely to
+yourself what interest I possess in your epistolary intercourse through
+the pages of that infamous Magazine. With sentiments of esteem,
+
+ Yours, as before,
+ M. R.
+
+
+'So shaken as we are, so wan with care,' we begin to wish that we had
+never undertaken the publication of these letters. Between two impending
+law-suits how shall we muster courage to keep on the even tenor of our
+way? Even our staunch friend, the anonymous Public, torments us with
+frequent accusatory epistles, charging us with dulness, impiety, and
+irreverence for American institutions. All these we must lay on the back
+of our Englishman, whose compatriots we confess are apt to assume a
+latitude of style hardly tolerated among us. In the mean time, gentle
+Public, respected Cockney, and worthy Mail-Robber, we cry you mercy all
+round!
+
+ ED. KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+LETTER SIXTH.
+
+TO CHARLES KEMBLE, ESQUIRE, LONDON.
+
+
+ Good Cassio, Charles, Mercutio, Benedick,
+ (Of all your names I scarce know which to pick,)
+ Colossal relic of the nobler time
+ When great JOHN PHILIP trod the scene sublime;
+ Ay, true Colossus, for like that which strode
+ From shore to shore, while seas beneath him flowed,
+ You seem to stand between two generations,
+ High o'er the tide of Time and its mutations;
+ Be not alarmed; this comes not from a dun,
+ Nor any scheming, transatlantic BUNN,
+ Tempting with golden hopes your waning years,
+ Like 'certain stars shot madly from their spheres,'
+ Like MATHEWS or old DOWTON, to expose
+ The shank all shrunken from its youthful hose;
+ So boldly read, howe'er it make you sigh,
+ Nor manager nor creditor am I;
+ Yet in some sort you are indeed my debtor,
+ And owe me for my pains at least a letter.
+
+ Not long ago, conversing at the Club
+ Which Londoners with 'GARRICK'S' title dub,
+ We both confessed, and each with equal grief,
+ That poor Melpomene was past relief;
+ So many symptoms of her dotage shows
+ This nineteenth century of steam and prose.
+ Nor in herself, said you, entirely lies
+ Th' incurable complaint whereof she dies;
+ 'Tis not alone that play-wrights are too poor
+ For gods or men or columns to endure;[4]
+ Nor that all players in a mould are cast,
+ Every new Roscius aping still the last;
+ Nor yet that Taste's too delicate excess
+ Demands perfection and despises less;
+ But mere indifference, that worst disease,
+ From bard and actor take all power to please.
+ How strive to please? when all their friends that were,
+ To empty benches empty sounds prefer;
+ And seek, like bees attracted by a gong,
+ The fairy-land of tip-toe and of song;
+ Whether a voice of more than earthly strain
+ Be newly sent by Danube or the Seine,
+ Or some aërial, thistle-downy thing
+ Float from La Scala on a zephyr's wing.
+ Say, might a SIDDONS, conjured from the tomb,
+ Again the scene of her renown illume?
+ Could her high art, (ay, even at half price,)
+ The crowd from 'La Sonnambula' entice?
+ No; dance and song, the Drama's deadly plagues,
+ RUBINI'S notes, and ELLSLER'S heav'nly legs,
+ Would nightly still bring amateurs in flocks,
+ To watch the bravos of the royal box.
+
+ [4] By the word 'columnæ,' Horace (though BENTLEY knew it not)
+ evidently meant the columns of the Roman newspapers.
+
+ While thus, between our filberts and our wine,
+ We mourned with sighs your mistress's decline,
+ You half indulged the fond imagination,
+ That what seemed death was but her _emigration_.
+ Perhaps, quoth you, and 'twas a bold 'perhaps,'
+ Ere many years of exile shall elapse,
+ The wand'ring maid may find in foreign lands
+ More loving hearts and hospitable hands.
+ Perchance her feet, with furry buskins graced,
+ May shuddering walk the cold Canadian waste,
+ And rest contented with a bleak repose
+ In shrubless climes of never-thawing snows.
+ Yes, in those woods that gird the northern lakes,
+ Pathless as yet, and wild with shaggy brakes,
+ Or in the rank savannahs of the south,
+ Or sea-like prairies near Missouri's mouth,
+ Fate may conduct her to some sacred spot,
+ Where to resume her sceptre and to--squat.
+ Some happier settlement and simpler race,
+ Where, though her worship lack its ancient grace,
+ New days may dawn, like those of royal BESS,
+ And every stream a Stratford shall possess;
+ Where, though in marshes resonant with frogs,
+ And rudely housed in temples built of logs,
+ The nymph, regenerate in her classic robe,
+ May see revived the 'Fortune' and the 'Globe.'
+
+ Such was the dream your fancy dared to mould
+ Of what yourself had witnessed here of old;
+ When with your twins--your FANNY and your fame--
+ Among our cousins of the west you came;
+ But you mistook a momentary fashion
+ For a deep-seated and enduring passion:
+ Now to your own a friend's experience add,
+ And judge what grounds your glorious vision had.
+ Beyond that Cape which mortals christen Cod,
+ Where drifted sand-heaps choke the scanty sod,
+ Round the rough shore a crooked city clings,
+ Sworn foe to queens, it seems, as well as kings.
+ On three steep hills it soars, as Rome on seven,
+ To claim a near relationship with heaven.
+ Fit home for saints! the very name it bears
+ A kind of sacred origin declares;
+ Ta'en, as I find by hunting records o'er,
+ From one BOTOLFO, canonized of yore,[5]
+ Whom bards have left nor epitaph nor verse on,
+ Though in his day, sans doubt, a decent person:
+ This town, in olden times of stake and flame,
+ A famous nest of Puritans became;
+ Sad, rigid souls, who hated as they ought
+ The carnal arms wherewith the Devil fought;
+ Dancing and dicing, music, and whate'er
+ Spreads for humanity the hell-born snare.
+ Stage-plays especially their hearts abhorred,
+ Holding the Muses hateful to the Lord,
+ Save when old STERNHOLD and his brother bard
+ Oped their hoarse throats and strained an anthem hard.
+
+ [5] The name of Boston, in Lincolnshire, is said to be derived
+ from ST. BOTOLPH--quasi BOTOLPH'S town.
+
+ From that angelic race of perfect men,
+ (Sure seraphs never trod the world 'till then,)
+ Descends the race to whom the sway is given
+ Of the world's morals by confiding Heaven.
+ These of each virtue know the market price,
+ And shrewdly count the cost of every vice;
+ So, to their prudent adage faithful still,
+ Are honest more from policy than will.
+ As if with heaven a bargain they had made
+ To practise goodness and to be well paid.
+ They too, devoutly as their fathers did,
+ Sin, sack, and sugar equally forbid;
+ Holding each hour unpardonably spent
+ Which on the ledger leaves no monument;
+ While oft they read, with small but pious wit,
+ Th' inscription o'er the play-house portals writ,
+ In a bad sense--'_The entrance to the Pit._'
+
+ Among this godly tribe it was my fate
+ To view a triumph they enjoyed of late,
+ Which, lest the chroniclers who come hereafter
+ Omit, and cheat our children of their laughter,
+ I, a DAGUERRE-like sketcher of the time,
+ Will faintly shadow as I can in rhyme.
+
+ Once these Botolphians, when their boards you trod,
+ Received you almost as a demi-god;
+ Rushed to the teeming rows in frantic swarms,
+ And rained applauses not in showers but storms.
+ But should you now their fickle welcome ask,
+ Faint shouts would greet the veteran of the mask;
+ And ah! what anguish would it be to search
+ For your old play-house in a bastard church!
+ To find the dome wherein your hour you strutted,
+ Altered and maimed and circumcised and gutted;
+ Become in truth, all metaphor to drop,
+ A mongrel thing--half chapel and half shop.
+ Long had the augur and the priest foretold
+ The sad reverse they doomed it to behold;
+ Long had the school-boy, as he passed it by,
+ And maiden viewed it with presaging eye;
+ Oft had the wealthy deacon with a frown
+ Glared on the pile he longed to batter down,
+ And reckoned oft, with sanctimonious air,
+ What rents 'twould fetch if purified with prayer;[6]
+ While through the green-room whispered rumors went,
+ That heaven and earth were on its ruin bent.
+
+ [6] At the late opening of the 'Tremont Temple' in Boston, the
+ new proprietors chanted what they called a 'Purification
+ Hymn,' of which we give one stanza:
+
+ 'Satan has here held empire long--
+ A blighting curse, a cruel reign;
+ By mimic scenes, and mirth and song
+ Alluring souls to endless pain!'
+
+ Too just a fear! The vision long foreseen
+ Has come at last; behold the fallen queen!
+ The queen of passion, stripped of all her pride,
+ Discrowned, indignant from her temple glide.
+ With draggling robe, slip-shod, her buskin loose,
+ She flies a barren people's cold abuse;
+ Summons her sister, who forbears to smile,
+ And leaves to rats the desecrated pile,
+ Which dogs and nags already had begun,
+ Unless by blows and hunger driv'n, to shun:
+ For well-bred curs and steeds genteel contemn
+ A stage which Taste had sunk too low for them;
+ Whereon the town had seen, without remorse,
+ A herd of bisons and a hairless horse!
+
+ Behind the two chief mourners of the band
+ A sad procession followed, hand in hand;
+ Heroes un-heroed, most unknightly knights,
+ Wand-broken fairies, disenchanted sprites;
+ Dukes no more ducal, even on the bill,
+ Milk-livered murd'rers too ill-fed to kill;
+ Mild-looking demons that a babe might daunt,
+ Witches and ghosts most naturally gaunt;
+ Lovers made pale by keener pangs than love's,
+ Unspangled princesses with greasy gloves;
+ Wits very witless--grave comedians mute,
+ And silent sons of violin and flute.
+
+ After these down-look'd leaders of the show,
+ Who creep like Trajan's Dacians, wan and slow,
+ Comes a long train of underlings that bear
+ Imperial robes that kings no more may wear;
+ With truncheons, helmets, thunder-bolts and casks
+ Of snow and lightning--bucklers, foils and masks.
+ As tow'rd the steep of Capitolian Jove
+ When chiefs victorious through the rabble strove,
+ With all their conquests in their trophies told,
+ And every battle mark'd with plundered gold;
+ When the whole glory of the war rolled by,
+ And gaping Rome seemed all one mighty eye,
+ Behind the living captives came the dead,
+ Poor noseless gods, and some without a head,
+ With pictures, ivory images and plumes,
+ And priceless tapestry from palace-looms;
+ Ev'n such, although Night's alchymy no more
+ The crinkling tinsel turns to precious ore,
+ Appears the pomp of this discarded race,
+ As heaped with spoil they quit their ancient place,
+ Bearing their Lares with them as they go--
+ Two dusty statues and a bust or so;
+ With mail which once a Harry Fifth had on,
+ Triumphal cars with all the triumph gone;
+ Goblets of tin mixed up with Yorick's bones,
+ Bags made of togas--barrows formed of thrones,
+ Whereon the majesty of Denmark sat;
+ Fie! Juliet's petticoats in Wolsey's hat!
+ Swords hacked at Bosworth, fasces, guns and spears
+ Rusted with blood before, and now with tears.
+
+ Enough of this: kind prompter, touch the bell!
+ Children of mirth and midnight, fare ye well!
+ The vision melts away, the motley crowd
+ Is veiled by Prospero in a passing cloud;
+ Like his dissolving pageantry they fade,
+ The vap'ry stuff whereof our dreams are made;
+ No more malignant winter to beguile,
+ Nor start the virgin's tear, the judge's smile;
+ Save when some annalist, like me, recalls
+ The ancient fame of those degraded walls;
+ Or till an age less hateful to the Muse
+ To their old shape restore the anxious pews.
+
+ T. W. P.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER FROM JAMES JESSAMINE.
+
+TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+SIR: It has not been until after much reflection on my own part, and I
+must say, very civil encouragement on that of my friend MR. JOHN WATERS,
+whose acquaintance I have chanced upon some months back, that I have
+determined to venture, either in the form of an advértisement extra, or
+possibly by your very polite admission of this self-introductory letter
+into your fashionable pages, to submit to the view of the more refined and
+intellectual part of the society of the Atlantic cities and particularly
+to that of New York, the peculiar claim that I conceive myself to possess
+upon their consideration and regard.
+
+I have been hitherto deterred from taking this decisive step, as well by
+the very disturbed and almost turbulent state, which, since my arrival in
+this country, appears to have characterized its monetary concerns--alas!
+my dear Sir, those horrid yet necessary evils and grievances of life!--as
+by some expectations I had cause to entertain soon after I set foot upon
+your hospitable shores, of the immediate death of a maiden aunt in
+Cornwall, upon which incident, and her continued celibacy, depend very
+much all my present reversionary hopes.
+
+The health of the old lady being however at my latest intelligence
+unexpectedly reinstated; the cotton crops coming forward as I understand
+to good markets, and the wonderful discovery having been made of
+converting western pork into sallad oil; the Tories being put down, and
+the banks having entered into what some time ago seemed the _paulo post
+futurum_ of specie payments; I desire to share in the general tide of
+prosperity; I launch myself upon it at its flood, discard all reserve, and
+shall descend at once without farther preface into the midst of what I
+have to say.
+
+I came out then some time ago _ostensibly_ to kill a trout or two in some
+of your delicious streams; and indeed I may without presumption say en
+passant that few professors of the Rod excel me either in the niceties of
+my throw, the cool self-possession with which I take my fish, or the
+indomitable perseverance and perfect tact with which I drown and then land
+him with a single hair. I say _ostensibly_, for I have now no desire to
+conceal from you the ulterior objects that I had in view of either making
+a book to replenish my purse, or of establishing myself for life in this
+your rising land of freedom and big crops.
+
+I have had 'good luck to your fishing' sung to me more than once by most
+sweet voices, and have realized it to my heart's content in the way of
+trout; but this is all. Since I arrived in America there have been no less
+than three travelling historians upon the ground, with whose energy of
+conception, art of fabrication, facility of combination, capacity of
+bitterness and established name, I could not enter the lists. And as for
+matrimonial projects, foreigners seem to me to have no longer any hope of
+success in consequence of the entire pre-occupation of this walk of life
+by a regularly drilled and educated corps of young Americans, bred up
+avowedly with no other pursuit; who talk, think, dream of nothing else
+than fortune by marriage; and with a shrewdness and intelligence of
+calculation that entirely distance the foreigner, (but which seem
+wonderfully after the nuptials to forsake them _in stocks of another
+description_,) know at a glance the value, expectations, hopes, and
+dependencies of each young marriageable lady even before she comes out; so
+that instead of being able to accomplish a purpose of this kind, I find it
+quite as much as I can do to avoid falling in love beyond repeal with the
+refinement, gentleness, grace, and untold sweetness that distinguish the
+portionless beauties of New-York.
+
+Indeed this class to which I have adverted of licensed fortune-hunters is
+so numerous; the fortunes themselves except to the initiated are so
+uncertain; and the entire want of that most useful profession, _les
+courtiers de mariage_, is so grievous to all incidental visitors, that I
+have often thought how admirable the arrangement would be, if the young
+ladies were at once to adopt as a fashionable decoration some tasteful
+head ornament, on which should be inscribed, in distinct but graceful
+characters, some one of such legends as the following, which should
+indicate the incontestible possessions of the wearer:
+
+ $30,000 State of New-York Fives.
+
+ My face is my fortune.
+
+ $200,000 Indiana State Bonds.
+
+ 2 lots on Broadway, 4 in the Bowery and 1 on Union-Square.
+
+ Nothing but truth, discretion, intelligence and grace.
+
+ $60,000 Alabama Sterling Bonds.
+
+ The Tongues, and what you see.
+
+ $27,000 on indefeasible Bond and Mortgage.
+
+ A House and Shop in _Maiden-Lane_ with fixtures, and a careful
+ tenant at 1400 a year on lease three years unexpired.
+
+ Musick--four pianos done up since this time last year.
+
+ 30,000 Pine trees and three saw-mills in Saint Lawrence county:
+ N. B., well situated!
+
+ A large Manufacturing Establishment with unbounded
+ Water-privileges, in Ulster.
+
+ Life and Trust--40 shares daily recovering.
+
+
+The young gentlemen might wear appended to the third button-hole of the
+left breast, epigrammatical notices of 'THE EXPECTATIONS' in which they so
+generally abound, as follows:
+
+ Uncle Asa has the phthisick, I am his heir.
+
+ As I STAND, less my tailor's bill of $1800.
+
+ Plenty of LOTS, covered partly with water, partly with
+ parchment.
+
+ In full and successful business, owing only four times our
+ capital, due us five times, chiefly in Mississippi. Expect to
+ retire in two years and enjoy life.
+
+ Two-and-six-pence in my pocket, with great but indefinable
+ hopes.
+
+ A _promising_ young member of the Bar. Three suits;--[Symbol:
+ pointing hand] one of them in court. Grant me my fourth!
+
+A young lady, whose nice tact and discriminating judgment are only
+rivalled by her sweetness of disposition and exquisite personal
+attractions, has divided the world of beaux into three generick classes:
+
+ 1. The Rich who are afraid of us;
+
+ 2. The Poor whom we are afraid of;
+
+ 3. The Detrimentalists.
+
+The plan I propose would aid manifestly in the due classification of all
+assistants at a ball. It is not to be thought that the sex is governed by
+any mercenary motive; but in the present organization of society a certain
+degree of attention to the mode in which matrimonial establishments are to
+be sustained is absolutely imperative.
+
+Conceive then Mr. Editor how this explicit course would remove the
+ordinary impediments on both sides. One single _tour de Valse_ and the
+whole affair might be adjusted! The gentleman forsakes the lady's eyes and
+fixes his own upon her tiara; she hers upon his eloquent button-hole.
+During the slow movement they have deciphered the mottoes, have
+ascertained, (no small desideratum in a crowded ball-room!) each the exact
+value of his or her partner; they have arrived in thought, as far as mere
+expediency goes, each at a decision; and are ready for question and answer
+at the close of the accelerated step.
+
+By the way, as the waltz is now conducted, the employment of the eyes
+during the slow sentimental movement seems frequently to the lady a matter
+of some degree of embarrassment; and the method I propose would
+effectually remove any thing of the sort. There could be no want of an
+object on which to rest them; no looking with a fixed gaze over the
+partner's shoulder; no consulting of the cornice; no care-fraught
+expression; no reluctant or displeased look, as if the lady would have
+fain declined; no indeterminate thoughts, no indefinite sensations; no
+languishment; and above all never more the portentous, the ominous look
+which often in that entrancing dance exhibits to us the mysticism of the
+Sybil, without one ray of her inspiration.
+
+No; then would the lady look, read, decide, and dance the while. 'This
+might do!'--then would she sparkle. 'Ah this would never do!'--then would
+she become placid, tranquil, and complete her tour with contentment; for
+as I think some one else has before me wisely observed, _the end of doubt
+is the beginning of repose_. Then would the faces of the ladies generally
+become vastly more attractive than at present during the enjoyment of the
+waltz; for singular as may seem the remark, although I have assisted at
+several New-York balls, I have met two countenances only throughout the
+whole galaxy of beauty that, in dancing the Waltz, have indicated either
+joy or undisturbed gratification: the one, is that of a little sylph-like
+beam of pleasure, who might well carry upon her beautiful hair,
+'unincumbered lots,' as her wedding-portion; who gains our hearts while
+she laughs at us; and who, because I chance to be within half a score of
+her father's years, threatens to call me her _vieux chéri_--while the name
+of the other, if I dared write it, would recall the most tasteful and
+fashionable costumes of France, with the sweetest poetry of Scotland.
+
+But alas my master! I have gone prattling on without saying a word of my
+own pretensions until my letter has gained such a length that I am forced
+to defer them to another number, while I subscribe myself, dear Mr. Editor
+of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+
+ Your most faithful servant,
+ JAMES JESSAMINE.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE'S ELYSIUM.
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF MATTHISSON BY WILLIAM PITT PALMER.
+
+
+ GROVE! embathed in peace celestial,
+ As in dew the rose's bowers,
+ Where Hesperia's golden fruitage
+ Ripens amid silver flowers;
+ Where a rosy-colored ether
+ Ever cloudless bends above,
+ Through whose calm abysses never
+ Breathed the sigh of slighted love.
+
+ PSYCHE, with a strange emotion,
+ Half enraptured, half dismayed,
+ Just escaped her earthly vesture,
+ Trembling greets thy glimmering shade:
+ Where, O joy! no misty mantle
+ Veils her primal purity;
+ And her immaterial pinions,
+ Like an angel's, wander free.
+
+ Ha! e'en now o'er paths of roses,
+ Glorious shape of light, she sweeps,
+ Tow'rd the shadow-peopled valley
+ Where the sacred Lethe sleeps;
+ Thither drawn by magic suasion,
+ As by gentle spirits led,
+ Fain she sees the silver billows,
+ And their flowery shores outspread.
+
+ Kneeling low with sweet foreboding
+ Griefs oblivious draught to taste,
+ Softly shines her trembling image
+ In that faithful mirror traced;
+ As from ocean's tranquil waters
+ Fair the cloudless moon outbeams,
+ Or from crystal stream reflected
+ Hesper's golden cresset gleams.
+
+ Not in vain she quaffs of Lethe;
+ For, anon, within the stream
+ Sinks the night-part of her being,
+ Like the phantom of a dream;
+ And from out the vale of shadows
+ Bright she soars on fearless wing,
+ To the hills whose golden blossoms
+ Smile in everlasting spring.
+
+ What an awe-inspiring silence!
+ Softer calm than zephyr breathes
+ Murmurs in the laurel foliage
+ And the amaranthine wreaths:
+ Thus in sacred stillness rested
+ Air and wave--in such repose
+ Slumbered nature, when from ocean
+ ANADYOMENE rose.
+
+ What an unaccustomed glory!
+ Earth! though fair Aurora be,
+ Never from her vernal features
+ Shone such magic light for thee:
+ Lo! the ivy's glossy tendrils
+ Bathed in purple lustre gleam,
+ And the flowers that crown each fountain
+ With a starry splendor beam!
+
+ Thus in silvan wilds the dawning,
+ When the modest Cynthia spied
+ From the skies her sleeping lover,
+ And descended to his side;
+ While the fields were bathed in brightness,
+ And in magic tones expressed,
+ Heavenly greetings murmured sweetly--
+ Hail, ENDYMION the blest!
+
+
+
+
+GANGUERNET: OR, 'A CAPITAL JOKE.'
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY JOHN HUNTER.
+
+
+Mine is called Ganguernet: I say mine, for you have all had yours; every
+one, at least once in his life-time, has met with one of those little fat,
+ruddy, burly men, with straight close-cropped hair, low forehead, grey
+eyes, broad nose, puffed-up cheeks, the neck between the shoulders, the
+shoulders in the stomach, the stomach upon the legs; a sort of a Punch
+figure, rolling, bawling, laughing, hallooing; one of those fellows who
+come stealthily behind you, clap their hands on your head, and cry out
+suddenly: 'Who's this?' Who pull away your chair at the moment you are
+going to sit down; who snatch from you your handkerchief just when you
+wish to use it; and who, on these occasions, when you look at them with an
+angry air, answer you with a broad grin, and a stare of imperturbable
+assurance: '_A capital joke!_'
+
+You have had yours; and mine is named Ganguernet. My first acquaintance
+with him was at Rheims. He was a complete adept in his profession, and as
+a regular joke-player, master of all the tricks of his trade. Well skilled
+was he in the art of attaching a piece of meat to the bell-rope of a
+porter's lodge, so that all the wandering dogs about town would snap at
+the tempting bait, and awaken the mystified domestics ten times a night.
+Very expert was he also at cutting tradesmen's signs in two pieces, and
+substituting one for another. On one occasion he took the sign of a
+hair-dresser, cut it in two, and added the latter part to that of one of
+my neighbours; so that it read as follows: _Monsieur Roblot lets out
+carriages and false toupées, after the Paris fashion_.
+
+But if M. Ganguernet was not the most agreeable companion in the city,
+still less so was he in the country, where indeed his presence, to me at
+least, was always a perfect nuisance. He knew how to scatter the hair,
+adroitly clipped from a brush, between the sheets of a friend, so that the
+victim, before he had been a quarter of an hour in bed, would become
+furious with the itching. He would pierce the partition between two
+sleeping apartments, so as to pass through it a piece of twine which he
+had cunningly fastened to your bed-clothes, and then, when he found that
+you were asleep, he would gently pull the string, until the covering was
+all drawn down to your feet. You awake half-frozen, for Ganguernet always
+chooses a cold damp night for this trick, draw up the covering, wrap
+yourself carefully up, and very innocently resume your slumbers; then
+Ganguernet, gently pulling his cord, again strips you naked; again you are
+benumbed with cold; and when you begin to utter imprecations in the dark,
+his detestable voice is heard bawling through the hole: 'What a capital
+joke!'
+
+Did Ganguernet chance to fall in with one of those simple-minded
+individuals, whose countenances invite mystification, he would steal from
+him during his sleep his coat and pantaloons, whose dimensions with needle
+and thread he would contrive greatly to diminish. He would then awaken his
+victim, begging him to dress himself as soon as possible, and join a
+hunting-party. The unsuspecting subject of the joke, thus suddenly roused,
+would try to put on his pantaloons, but could not get into them. 'Good
+Heavens!' exclaims Ganguernet, with affected astonishment; 'why, what is
+the matter, my dear Sir?--you are terribly swollen!' 'Am I?' 'You are
+indeed, prodigiously!' 'Do you really mean it?' 'I may be mistaken, but
+come dress yourself, and let us go down, and see what the others say.'
+
+'But I cannot get on my clothes.'
+
+'Ah! that's it, you are so puffed up. It must be a thundering attack of
+the dropsy!'
+
+And this would continue, the poor fellow, pale and trembling, in vain
+endeavoring to get on his clothes, until the tormentor, with a hideous
+chuckle, would come out with his famous sentence: 'Ha! ha! a capital
+joke!'
+
+There was one of his tricks which appeared to me to be truly abominable.
+He played it upon a person reputed to be a brave man, but who was
+nevertheless horribly frightened. One night, after getting snugly into
+bed, this gentleman felt something cold and slimy along side of him, he
+touched it with his foot; it seemed a round elongated body; he placed his
+hand upon it; it was a serpent coiled upon itself! In an ecstacy of
+terror, he leaped from the bed with a cry of disgust and horror, when
+Ganguernet made his appearance, shaking his fat sides and roaring out:
+'What a capital joke!' It was an eel-skin filled with water, that had
+caused the panic. The enraged gentleman would have broken the head of the
+joker, but Ganguernet throwing a pitcher of water over the sans-culotte
+sufferer, made his escape, yelling out at the top of his voice: 'A capital
+joke!--a capital joke!' The master of the house and his guests came
+running in at the outcry, and with much difficulty succeeded in pacifying
+the mystified individual; assuring him that Ganguernet, though fond of
+fun, was in the main a charming good fellow, a pleasant boon companion,
+and one without whom, especially in the country, it was impossible to
+drive away ennui.
+
+Our readers may perhaps think with us, that, on the contrary, this man was
+one of those insufferable beings who are constantly intruding upon the
+pleasures and comforts of others; like a dog in a game of nine-pins,
+overturning with his paws all the arrangements of your joys and sorrows;
+more insupportable, and more difficult to get rid of than the dog, they
+lie in ambush to pounce upon you, and disconcert by a word or a trick the
+feelings you may enjoy, or the projects you intend.
+
+Among characters of this description, there are some whom their
+common-place attempts at wit consign to contempt. These performers confine
+themselves to vulgar and stale jokes. To thrust the head through the paper
+window-pane of a cobbler, and ask him the address of a minister of
+finances, or an archbishop; to stretch a cord across a staircase, so as to
+cause those who descend to take, in the words of a punster, a _voyage sur
+la rein_, or 'a voyage upon the Rhine;' to wake up a notary in the middle
+of the night, and send him in great haste to draw up a will for a client,
+whom he finds in good health; these and a thousand other silly pranks of
+the same nature, are the stock in trade of a jester; and no one knew them
+better than did Ganguernet.
+
+He had, moreover, invented some original tricks, which had given him a
+colossal reputation among the admirers of this branch of the fine arts.
+The only truly witty one I ever knew him to perpetrate, took place at a
+country-house where a large party of us were assembled. Among the guests,
+Ganguernet had singled out a lady of some thirty years, rather fantastic
+in her manners and appearance, who was doatingly fond of Parisian
+elegance, and who preferred the pale face of a well-looking youth of
+rather shallow intellect, to the coarse, purple visage of Ganguernet. Our
+humourist endeavored in vain to render this youth ridiculous in the eyes
+of the lady, who regarded his simplicity as a poetical absence of mind,
+and his credulity as an indication of sincerity and honest good faith. One
+evening, after a brisk defence of the pale-faced youth on the part of the
+lady, which was listened to by Ganguernet with a patience and a peculiar
+expression of the eye which boded no good, we had all retired to our
+apartments. In about half an hour, the house resounded with loud outcries
+of 'fire! fire!' which seemed to proceed from the hall upon the
+ground-floor. Every one hastened thither, men and women half-dressed, or
+half-undressed, which ever you please. They entered pell-mell, candlestick
+in hand, and there found Ganguernet stretched upon a sofa. To the
+reiterated questions that were put him as to the cause of the clamor, he
+answered not a word; but taking the pale-faced young man by the hand in a
+very solemn manner, and leading him up to the fine lady, gravely said to
+her: 'I have the honor, Madam, of presenting to you the most poetic genius
+of the company in a cotton night-cap.' We all burst into a shout of
+laughter, but the lady never forgave Ganguernet, nor the cotton night-cap.
+
+All the jokes which Ganguernet played, however, were not prompted by
+vengeance; a spirit of fun merely being the grand principle of most of his
+tricks. Before we come to the occurrence which showed this man to me in
+his true colors, I must relate a few more of the humorous pranks in which
+he took the greatest pride. Opposite his residence at Rennes there dwelt a
+worthy pair of venerable citizens, who were the sole occupants of a small
+house, which was their only possession. Once a week this honest couple
+were in the habit of dining, and having a little game of piquet with a
+relation, who resided at some distance from their abode. On these
+occasions they were usually regaled with curds and whey, which they
+moistened with sparkling cider; and not unfrequently a bowl of punch
+concluded the repast; so that the worthy pair commonly returned home about
+eleven o'clock, singing and staggering along in a state of happy
+elevation.
+
+On a certain fatal Sunday evening, these good folks returned to their
+abode, both of them pretty much, 'how came you so.' They arrived at the
+door of their next neighbour, which they recognized, and then proceeded on
+ten paces farther, which was just the distance to their own door. The
+husband, after fumbling in his pocket for the key of the street-door,
+pulled it out, and sought the key-hole; but no key-hole was to be found.
+'What has become of the key-hole?' cried he. 'You have drank too much
+cider, Monsieur Larquet,' said his wife; 'you are looking for the
+key-hole, and we are still before the wall of neighbour Bompart.'
+
+'That is true,' replied Monsieur Larquet; 'we must go a few paces
+farther.' They walked on; but this time they went too far, for as they had
+before recognized the door of their right-hand neighbor, they now found
+themselves in front of that of their neighbor on the left hand. Their own
+door ought to be between these two doors. They return, groping along the
+wall until they come to a door, which to their consternation they again
+find to be that of their right-hand neighbor! The honest couple become
+alarmed about the soundness of their wits, and begin to suspect that they
+must certainly both be tipsy. They recommence their inspections from the
+door of their neighbor on the right, and again come to the door of their
+neighbor on the left. They constantly find these two doors, but not a
+vestige of their own: their door has disappeared--vanished! Who could have
+taken away their door? Terror seizes them; they ask each other if they
+have become demented; and dreading the ridicule which would be cast upon
+honest citizens who could not find their own street-door, they grope about
+for more than an hour, feeling, poking, inspecting, measuring; but alas!
+there is no door; there is nothing but a wall, an unknown wall, an
+implacable wall, a desperate wall! At length, terror completely overpowers
+them; they utter loud cries, and call lustily for assistance. The
+neighbors are attracted by the noise, and after some time, it is
+ascertained that the door of the distracted couple has been carefully
+bricked up, and plastered over; and when all are trying to discover who
+could have played such a pitiful trick upon these honest people,
+Ganguernet, who from an opposite window, in company with some kindred
+spirits, had been enjoying the tribulation and despair of Monsieur and
+Madame Larquet, Ganguernet shouts out his everlasting refrain: 'A capital
+joke!' But, answered the neighbors, these poor folks will take their death
+of cold.
+
+'Bah!' replies he; 'a capital joke!'
+
+The incensed neighbors petitioned the king's attorney to moderate Monsieur
+Ganguernet's strong inclination to play his mischievous pranks; and the
+magistrate sent our hero to prison for some days, in spite of his skilful
+defence, which consisted in incessantly repeating: 'A capital joke!--what
+a capital joke, Mr. Magistrate!'
+
+Notwithstanding his excessive vanity, Ganguernet did not, however, make
+boast of all his exploits; and there was one, the authorship of which he
+constantly denied, possibly in consequence of a threat that was held out
+of cutting off the author's ears, should he be detected. The trick in
+question was prompted by the contempt in which he was held in a certain
+aristocratic circle; and the subject was no less a personage than an
+ancient dame of high birth, and great pretensions, who mingled in the most
+fashionable society of Rennes.
+
+Among other customs of the old school, which this lady retained, were the
+following: First, that of never mixing in the society of those of plebeian
+descent, such as Ganguernet: and secondly; that of always being carried in
+a sedan-chair by porters, when she went abroad. One evening she went to a
+ball, given by the first president of the court of assizes, a ball at
+which Ganguernet was also present. She left about midnight, carried as
+usual in her sedan-chair through a pelting shower of rain. At the moment
+she got under one of those loop-holes in the eaves-gutters, through which
+the rain pours down into the street in long dashing cascades, two or three
+shrill whistles were heard on the right and left hand. Immediately four
+men in masks made their appearance, at sight of whom the porters,
+abandoning their charge, took to their heels; but at the moment when the
+noble dame believed herself on the point of being assassinated, a terrible
+dash of cold water upon her head took away her breath, and almost deprived
+her of consciousness. The top of the chair had disappeared as if by magic,
+and the gutter poured its contents directly into the vehicle, the occupant
+of which in vain attempted to force open the door. She beat and thumped
+against it with fury, mounted the seat, and like an incarnate fiend,
+invoked the divine wrath upon the vile miscreants, who were giving her
+such a cruel shower-bath; and who only replied to her invectives by
+profound bows, and the most humble salutations. The worst part of this
+wicked trick was, that the lady wore hair-powder, and the mystifiers
+carried umbrellas.
+
+My acquaintance with Ganguernet continued about ten years. In the low and
+vulgar circles of society which he was fond of frequenting, he was held up
+as the most jovial, the best-natured, and the most amusing fellow in the
+world; although there were some, whose sense of propriety and moral
+feelings were not entirely destroyed, who held him in merited contempt.
+For my own part, I always had a dread of the man. That odious smile,
+forever hanging on those large red lips, singularly annoyed me; that
+imperturbable gayety, exhibited on all occasions of life, troubled me like
+the constant presence of a hideous phantom; that phrase, which he appended
+like a moral to every thing he did, that detested phrase, 'A capital
+joke,' sounded in my ears as doleful and sombre as the Trappists' motto,
+'_Brother, we must die_!'
+
+There was a fatality about the man; and it was destined that a life should
+be sacrificed to his mad propensity for mischief. A day came, on which his
+famous words, 'A capital joke!' was to be pronounced over a tomb.
+
+On the eve of my departure from Rennes, some friends invited me to join a
+hunting-party, of which I learned that Ganguernet was to make one. This
+name took from me in advance half the pleasure I had anticipated. I
+however repaired early in the morning to the house of one of our friends,
+Ernest de B----. On my arrival I found Ganguernet there with some others
+of the party. Ernest had just finished a letter, which he sealed,
+directed, and placed upon the chimney-piece. Ganguernet, in his usual
+inquisitive and impertinent manner, took it up, and read the direction.
+'Ah ha!' said he; 'so you correspond with your pretty cousin, do you?'
+
+'Yes,' said Ernest, with an air of indifference; 'I have informed her that
+we intend visiting her chateau this evening, at about seven o'clock, to
+take dinner there. There are fifteen of us I think, and we shall run some
+risk of having but poor fare, if she does not get timely notice.'
+
+Ernest rang for a servant, and gave him the letter, without any of us
+noticing that Ganguernet disappeared for a moment with him. We set off on
+our expedition. While engaged in the chase, it so happened that Ganguernet
+and myself took one side of the plain on which we were hunting, while the
+rest of the party pursued their sport on the other.
+
+'We shall have some fun this evening,' said he to me.
+
+'How so?' replied I.
+
+'Would you believe it? I have given a louis to the servant that he should
+not carry the letter to its address.'
+
+'And have you taken it?'
+
+'No, pardieu! I told him we were going to have a little joke this evening,
+and that he must carry the letter to the lady's husband. He is sitting
+this moment as president of the court of assizes, and when he finds that
+he is going to have fifteen stout fellows, with keen appetites, at his
+house this evening, he will be in a devil of a rage. He is as miserly as
+Harpagon; and the idea of our laying his kitchen and wine-cellar under
+contribution will put him in such a humor, that he will have no scruple in
+condemning a dozen innocent men, so that he may reach his country-house in
+time to prevent the pillage.'
+
+'If this is the case,' said I to Ganguernet, 'it seems to me to be a very
+malicious jest.'
+
+'Bah! a capital joke! And the best of it will be when we all arrive at the
+chateau. The others, ravenous with hunger and thirst, will expect to find
+there an excellent supper. But there will be nothing--absolutely nothing!'
+
+'And do you think, Sir,' replied I, 'that this will be any pleasanter to
+me than to the rest of the party? And you yourself, will you not be one of
+the principal dupes of your frolic?'
+
+'Let me alone for that! Look you here; I've got a cold fowl and a bottle
+of Bordeaux in my game-bag, and you shall have half.'
+
+'I thank you,' said I, 'but I had rather find Ernest, and notify him of
+your trick.'
+
+'Ah! good heavens! my dear Sir,' said Ganguernet, 'you cannot take a
+joke.'
+
+I left him, and apprising our friends of the affair, inquired where I
+could find Ernest. I was told that he had gone in the direction of the
+chateau of his cousin, toward which I proceeded, intending to give Madame
+de L---- notice of the trick of Ganguernet. At a turn of the road I
+perceived Ernest at a distance, going toward the chateau. I increased my
+speed in order to overtake him, and made so much haste that I arrived
+almost at the same moment with him, so that he had just passed the gate as
+I reached it. As I was about entering, the gate was violently pulled to,
+and immediately I heard the report of a pistol, and then a voice cried
+out: 'Villain! since I have missed you, defend yourself!'
+
+I hastily sprang to a grating in the wall, about the height of my head,
+which opened into the court-yard, and there witnessed a frightful
+spectacle. The husband, sword in hand, was attacking Ernest with desperate
+fury. 'Ah! you love her and she loves you!' cried he, in a voice hoarse
+with passion; 'you love her, do you? and she loves you! Your turn first,
+and then hers!'
+
+The letter from Ernest to his cousin, conveyed by the malicious
+interference of Ganguernet to her husband, had apprised him of a secret
+which had remained hidden for more than four years; and before redressing
+the wrongs of society as a magistrate, the president of the court had
+hastened to avenge his own as a husband.
+
+In vain I cried, in vain I called by name the two cousins. Monsieur de
+L---- with blind fury drove Ernest from one corner of the court to
+another. Suddenly a window opened, and Madame de L----, pale, with
+dishevelled hair, and terror painted on her countenance, appeared.
+
+'Leonie!' cried Ernest, 'withdraw!'
+
+'No! let her remain!' exclaimed Monsieur de L----, 'she is a prisoner; you
+need not fear that she will come to separate us.' And he again rushed upon
+his cousin with such fury that the fire flew from their swords.
+
+'It is I--it is _I_ who deserve death!' cried Madame de L----; 'kill
+_me_!'
+
+I added my cries to theirs. I shouted, I shook the grating. I tried to
+scale the wall, when suddenly, urged on by despair, bewildered,
+distracted, Madame de L---- threw herself from the window and fell between
+her lover and her husband. The latter, completely beside himself with
+passion, directed his sword toward her. But Ernest turned it aside, and in
+his turn casting off all restraint, exclaimed with vehemence: 'Madman!
+would you kill her? Well, then--defend yourself!' And immediately he
+commenced a violent assault upon his antagonist.
+
+I could do nothing to separate them; neither could Madame de L----. The
+unfortunate woman had broken a limb in the fall, and lay groaning upon the
+pavement. It was a dreadful combat. Nothing can express the violent terror
+which seized me. Already the blood of the two cousins began to flow, which
+only served to increase their rage. I had succeeded with some difficulty
+in climbing to the top of the wall, and was about to leap into the court,
+when I perceived some of our friends approaching. Ganguernet was at their
+head; he drew near, calling to me:
+
+'Halloo! what's this? Why, you bawl like a man getting flayed; we heard
+you a quarter of a league off. What the devil is the matter?'
+
+At the sight of this detested wretch, I rushed upon him, seized him by the
+throat, and forcing him violently against the grating, I cried to him in
+my turn: 'Look there, miserable jester!--'a capital joke!' is it not?--a
+'capital joke!''
+
+Monsieur de L----, pierced through the heart by a plunge of his
+antagonist's sword, was lying by the side of his wife.
+
+Ernest has left France to die in a foreign land. Madame de L---- committed
+suicide the day after this horrible duel.
+
+'A CAPITAL JOKE!'
+
+
+
+
+APOSTROPHE TO AN OLD HAT.
+
+BY JOHN G. SAXE.
+
+
+ COME forth, Old Hat! I'll pluck thee from the ditch,
+ Where thou hadst well nigh found a grave, 'unwept,
+ Unhonor'd and unsung.' I'll rescue thee
+ A moment longer from oblivion,
+ Albeit thou art old, bereaved of rim,
+ And like a prince dethroned, no more canst boast
+ A crown!
+ Would thou couldst talk! I'd e'en consent
+ That thou shouldst steal my prating grandame's tongue,
+ And so procure her silence and thy history.
+
+ Time-worn, adust, degraded as thou art,
+ Thine ancient quality doth still appear;
+ And this fine web, malgré thy present mien,
+ (A batter'd cylinder of dingy brown,)
+ Proclaims that once, some dozen years ago,
+ Thou wert a good and fashionable hat.
+
+ Perchance thou first wert perch'd right jauntily
+ A-top some dandy's poll; a most convenient block
+ To keep thee in good shape, and serve beside
+ One purpose more--to advertise thy brethren.
+
+ Mayhap a lawyer, in thy pristine years
+ And his, with thy possession much enhanced
+ His meagre sum of personal estate;
+ And, in phrase professional, call'd thee 'chattel'--
+ A vile distinction for a beaver hat!
+ A lawyer's hat!--alack! what teeming store-house oft
+ Of mischiefs dire; ill-boding parchment; 'writs,'
+ With hieroglyphics mystical inscribed;
+ Invention curious of graceless men,
+ And in sad mock'ry named 'the grace of God!'
+ What mighty 'suits at law,' begot and born
+ Within thy strait enclosure, yet survive
+ Thy tenth successor! And what mighty 'suits
+ In chancery,' (so named from CHANCE, who sits
+ Alternate there and in the legal courts,)
+ Still flourish, endless as the heap of words
+ Which mark the spot where Justice lies entomb'd!
+
+ Perhaps at first thou wert allow'd to crown
+ The 'honorable' head of some grave senator;
+ Or judge astute; or member of 'the other
+ House;' pregnant perforce with weighty matters;
+ 'Petitions' humbly praying to abolish
+ Slavery and 'hard times.' 'Bills' to promote
+ The better culture of morality
+ And morus multicaulis! Mayhap a brief
+ And formal letter to a brother member,
+ In courteous phrase requesting leave to shoot him.
+ 'Notes,' 'Resolutions,' 'Speeches' of vast length,
+ And just adapted to produce what thou
+ Hast wanted many a year--a decent _nap_.
+
+ Perchance an editor, by some mysterious accident
+ Made passing rich with five-and-forty shillings,
+ First bore thee off in triumph; 'tis pity then
+ Thou canst not speak; else should we hear
+ Of much before unpublished; of countless 'bills'
+ Unpaid; of libels prudently suppress'd;
+ Of 'Stanzas' much, of 'Lines' innumerable;
+ And love-sick 'Songs' to goddesses mundane,
+ All wickedly committed to the Persian's god!
+
+ Thou mayst have crown'd a parson, and couldst tell,
+ If thou hadst power of verbal utterance,
+ Of 'the divinity that stirred within thee'
+ In shape of sermons; faithful or smooth-tongued,
+ As he who wrote them chanced to covet most
+ The smile of God or man. A lover's hat
+ Thou surely wert, (since all men love,
+ Who have a head,) and oft no doubt hast given
+ To scented billet-doux and amorous rhymes
+ Thy friendly guardianship; secure from aught
+ Save lifting winds and porter's curious eye.
+
+ At second-hand 'tis ten to one thou wert
+ A Jew's possession, got in honest barter;
+ Next, John the ostler's; last of all, past doubt
+ A vagrant's hat; the equitable purchase
+ Of an ill-sung song. Till quite worn out
+ With rain, and wind, and sleet, and other 'ills
+ Thy race is heir to,' the beggar cast thee
+ From his plebeian pate--and here thou liest.
+
+_St. Alban's, Vermont._
+
+
+
+
+THE COUNTRY.
+
+
+There is something very pleasant in the country, particularly about
+Thanksgiving-time, when families gather together from north, south, east
+and west, around the huge roast turkey, and many pairs of jaws masticate
+vigorously in gratitude for blessings received. At this season of the year
+the bird which was fortunate enough to excite the enthusiasm of
+Brillat-Savarin, and to be the theme of many chapters in his immortal
+'Physiologie,' is the emblem of our republic. A bald eagle indeed! Who
+ever heard of a roast eagle? But a turkey:
+
+ 'The state of a fat turkey, the decorum
+ He marches in with, all the train and circumstance!
+ 'Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter!
+ And then his sauce with oranges and onions;
+ And he displayed in all parts! for such a dish now,
+ And at my need, I would betray my father.'
+
+What native American does not respond _Amen!_ from the depths of his
+stomach to these appetizing verses of Beamount and Fletcher? But higher
+far rises the gastronomic phrenzy of the Travelled, who have known the
+bird, grand in his stuffing of chestnuts, sublime when swelling with the
+bliss-bringing truffle!
+
+And the country is at all seasons a pleasant idea, if properly considered;
+but beware of the man of one idea, if that one be Country, as you would of
+the _homo unius libri_. If you cannot distinguish timothy from clover, and
+beets from carrots; if, agriculturally speaking, you don't 'know beans;'
+he will annihilate you with his rural wisdom. For his whole existence is
+in the soil. He worships things under the earth. Dust he is, and to dust
+he shall return; (the sooner the better!) He prattles of potatoes, talks
+of turnips, harangues about horse-radish, knows no composition except
+compost. Speak to him of manners, and he will answer of manures. Like the
+Egyptians, he worships a bull; and has all the fondness of Pythagoras for
+beans. His only literature is Liebig's Animal Chemistry; his lighter
+reading, the Cultivator and the New-England Farmer.
+
+Such an one was whilom a citizen with protruding abdomen and white cravat,
+who having realized a something in business, exchanges the counter for the
+country; buys his acre or two, erects his manor-house, with a grass-plat
+in front and a tree or two behind; and with a little straw hat on his
+head, a linen coat on his back, and a hoe in his hand, saunters around his
+limited possessions, as leisurely and as frequently as an old horse in a
+mill, perfectly content with his place, his plans, and himself.
+
+Call not upon him unless with double-soled boots and strapless trowsers;
+and choose a cool day for the visit, if it must be made; for not over
+'hill and dale,' but over rock and gully you must march; through ploughed
+land and through weeds, through bowers of grape-vines and _bosquets_ of
+Lima beans; scratched by the thorns of the gooseberry and brushed by the
+long dew-covered leaves of the Indian corn. Numberless shrubs from a foot
+to eighteen inches in height he will point out to you, and name them with
+long names: 'This is the Prota Goras,' 'and that the Demo Creitus;' shrubs
+which, if you had encountered them when alone, you might have eradicated
+as weeds, in a moment of generous activity. And when muddy, breathless and
+dripping, you reach the highest point of his possessions, he will wave his
+hand majestically over some twenty feet of grass, and pointing to three
+trees and a white fence in the _distance_, talk of scenery!
+
+Nevertheless, convinced as we are that the taste for country-places is on
+the increase, we think it advisable to suggest a few hints for the
+instruction of the aspirants after rural felicity. Saratoga and the like
+are no longer indispensable places of resort, but it _is_ indispensable to
+be out of town for three months of the year, if you would not be out of
+fashion during the remaining nine. Select then a bare and stony spot, for
+as your object is employment, the more improvements you can make the
+better you will be pleased, as you take it for granted of course that
+improvements cost almost nothing. On the highest part of this ground you
+will build your house: an airy situation is invaluable in warm weather;
+and then a view is so desirable. In the choice of a style of architecture
+some difficulty arises. You may either have a clap-board Parthenon, with
+Corinthian columns in front and Doric columns in the rear, painted white,
+to flash back the rays of the sun, or which is perhaps more fashionable, a
+Gothic cottage, with steep roof, rustic pillars, fantastic barge-boards,
+and numerous pinnacles painted brown, with oak-stained doors. This style
+looks well in the situation we have described; the absence of trees
+bringing out more fully the beauties of the architecture. It is attended
+with one or two inconveniences; scarcely however, worth mentioning: Gothic
+windows always leak, and the sloping roof makes the second story a little
+_ovenish_ in temperature, and _garrety_ in smell. Whichever of the two
+styles you adopt, you must not fail to refer your plans to some bustling
+little architect, who will be sure to write articles about himself in one
+of the weeklies, and will probably give a drawing of your house, and call
+you the 'intelligent, gentlemanly, and high-minded proprietor.' After you
+have removed the stones, manured the ground, and planted grass, you will
+have a lawn; and after you have dug deep holes and set out tall thin
+consumptive trees, you have a wood. Secure the whole with white fences;
+throw rustic bridges over the _impassable_ streams; sprinkle red dahlias
+and tiger-lilies here and there; buy a bull-dog to set on any small child
+who may be reckless enough to trespass; and lo! you have a country-seat as
+well as a town-house, and can invite your city friends to fill your one
+spare room in regular rotation.
+
+In the important matter of a name, you must decide for yourself; but
+surely with Walter Scott and Lord Byron and the innumerable
+_What-d'ye-call-'em_ dales, _Thingumbob_ brooks, and _So-and-so_ woods, to
+choose from, you can have no difficulty in fixing upon a suitable one.
+
+But, says an amateur rustic, I have no fondness for floriculture,
+horticulture, or agriculture; what am I to do? Buy a horse, and take a
+gallop of some twenty miles or so, and if the horse does not shy you off,
+or bolt you off, or kick you off, and you do not fall off, or he does not
+fall under you, you will probably arrive at home safe; but as you walk
+from the stable to the house, you will quote from George Colman's parody
+of the Lady of the Lake:
+
+ 'Hunter rest, for thou must own
+ _Leather lost_ and empty belly,' etc.
+
+Have you a fondness for fire-arms? Then procure a gun and dog, and sally
+forth before day-light. Walk five miles through swamp and thicket without
+starting a bird. Sky cloudless; heat intense. Suddenly dog's tail begins
+to beat half-seconds; up whirrs a bird, who is out of sight in a moment;
+so is the dog, who indulges in an animated chase. You shout yourself
+hoarse; at length succeed in catching dog, and try to thresh him with
+decayed sticks. A little while after, dog comes to a point again. This
+time he stands beautifully. You walk slowly up, trembling with excitement,
+both barrels cocked. Why don't the bird get up? You glance inquiringly
+around, and at length discern a wood-turtle fast asleep near the stump of
+a tree. Then, if an irascible man, you curse. So passes the day. Now and
+then a bird springs; off fly both of your barrels, aimed at vacancy, and
+hurling showers of No. 8 into space; and you arrive at home late in the
+afternoon, sore-footed from much travel and stiffness of boots, and alas!
+without a feather except a small quail which your dog caught in his mouth.
+
+No more shooting? Try fishing then. Sit all day on a rock watching your
+float, or cork, or _dobber_, as the Dutch boys call it, dance merrily over
+the waves, occasionally disappearing under the surface, when the hook
+catches a weed. Does not even this suit you? Then, dear friend, buy a boat
+of from four to six tons burthen, properly rigged and ballasted; also buy
+a red shirt, a small low-crowned straw hat, some tar to smear over your
+hands, and learn the first stanza of 'The sea! the sea!' to make every
+thing seem more nautical and ship-shape. Hoist jib and mainsail, and
+venture out. After you have drifted a mile or two, it will fall a dead
+calm, and the boat (Gazelle? Wave? Gull?) will float two or three hours,
+the sun flashing back from the glassy surface of the water, burning your
+face to the color of bricks, and almost frying the eyes out of your head.
+Then is the time to sing 'The sea! the sea!' and to take some Monongahela
+to still the qualmishness you begin to experience. At length the wind
+rises, and your boat, after many _yawings_, dashes away before it.
+Suddenly, without any voluntary or visible agency on your part, the
+main-boom sweeps from one side to the other, carrying your hat overboard
+in its passage, and dipping the gunwale deep under water. Agitated by this
+significant gesture, you steer straight for the wharf. In attempting to
+round-to, the bowsprit comes in contact with the piles and renounces its
+allegiance to the bow. The boat drifts away from the landing, and finally
+deposits you high and dry on the beach.
+
+What! Disgusted with this, too? Then take our advice, and like a
+reasonable man, stay in town.
+
+
+
+
+TO AN EVENING CLOUD.
+
+BY A YOUNG LADY.
+
+
+ Thou beautiful cloud, a glorious hue is thine!
+ I cannot think, as thy bright dyes appear
+ To my enraptured gaze, that thou wert born
+ Of Evening's exhalations: more sublime,
+ Light-giver! is thy birth-place, than of earth.
+ Wert thou not formed to herald in the day,
+ And clothe a world in thy unborrowed light?
+ Or art thou but a harbinger of rains
+ To budding May?--or in thy subtle screen
+ Nursest the lightnings that affright the world?
+ Or wert thou born of th' thin aërial mist
+ That shades the sea, or shrouds the mountain's brow?
+ Whate'er thou art, I gaze on thee with joy.
+
+ Spread thy wings o'er the empyrean, and away
+ Fleetly athwart the untravelled wilds of space,
+ To where the Sun-light sheds his earliest beams,
+ And blaze the stars, that vision vainly scans
+ In distant regions of the universe!
+ Tell me, Air-wanderer! in what burning zone
+ Thou wilt appear, when from the azure vault
+ Of our high heaven thy majesty shall fade;
+ Tell me, winged Vapor! where hath been thy home
+ Through the unchangeable serene of noon?
+ Whate'er thy garniture, where'er thy course,
+ Would I could follow thee in thy far flight,
+ When the south wind of eve is low and soft,
+ And my thought rises to the mighty source
+ Of all sublimity! O fleeting cloud,
+ Would I were with thee in the solemn night!
+
+ B.
+
+
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+ HISTORY OF THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO, with a Preliminary View of the
+ Ancient Mexican Civilization, and the Life of the Conqueror,
+ HERNANDO CORTES. By WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. In three volumes. New-York:
+ HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+We have awaited the appearance of these very elegant volumes with deep and
+anxious interest. The ability, industry and taste which the author
+displayed in his 'History of Ferdinand and Isabella,' which won for him a
+noble reputation in the most cultivated states of Europe, still more
+endeared his name to his own countrymen, and led them to look, with the
+highest hope and the most pleasant anticipations, to the future efforts of
+his elegant and fascinating pen. We have for some time known that he was
+assiduously engaged in collecting materials, and preparing from them a
+history of the famous Conquest of Mexico; an event which, although of a
+very splendid and romantic character, was still but vaguely known, even in
+accomplished and well-informed literary circles. The facts relating to it
+were nowhere recorded in an authentic and connected form; for it has not
+been until within the last fifty years that the attention of historians
+and general scholars has been turned in this direction. The labors of
+Spanish antiquarians since that time, conducted as they have been with
+great skill and industry, and under the supervision and encouragement of
+the government itself, have been abundantly rewarded; and a vast number of
+original documents have been accumulated in the public and private
+libraries, which shed floods of light upon all historical events connected
+with the conquests of Spanish armies, or the discoveries of Spanish
+fleets, and have thus placed within the reach of writers at the present
+day materials for lack of which even the able histories of ROBERTSON and
+his contemporaries became meagre and unattractive. The historians of our
+era are making the best possible use of these copious and invaluable
+collections. The first result of their efforts was WASHINGTON IRVING'S
+magnificent 'Life of COLUMBUS,' one of the most polished and perfect works
+of its class in the English language, and which has done as much for
+American literature abroad as it has for its eminent author at home. Then
+followed PRESCOTT'S 'Ferdinand and Isabella,' pronounced by the best
+critics on both sides the Atlantic to be one of the most interesting and
+valuable histories ever published: and here we have, in his 'History of
+the Conquest of Mexico,' drawn from the same rich source, a work eminently
+worthy to succeed its brilliant and most 'illustrious predecessors.'
+
+Within the limits which restrain us, we can of course do nothing more than
+intimate very vaguely the general character and scope of this great work;
+nor are we sure that even this is not quite a useless labor, as it must
+find its way at once into the library of every literary gentleman
+throughout the country, and be read with the greatest avidity by men of
+every class. One of the most valuable portions of the history is the
+extended view which Mr. PRESCOTT has presented, at the opening of the
+work, of the character and civilization of the ancient inhabitants of
+Mexico. The Spaniards conquered no tribe of untutored savages, roaming, in
+the wild lawlessness of the aborigines of our section of the western
+continent, over the sunny plains and smiling fields of Anahuac: they found
+a people there who, centuries before the discovery of the western world by
+Columbus, possessed the arts of civilization, and had reached a point of
+intellectual and moral culture in many respects surpassing that of the
+most renowned nations of the other world. We are surprised to find the
+high degree of refinement which they had reached. The sciences, especially
+of mathematics and astronomy, were understood to a degree of nicety
+scarcely attained by the Romans in their palmiest days. Their political
+organization was of a wonderfully perfect character; and their laws, and
+especially the organization of the judiciary, the department by which they
+were to be interpreted and administered, were stamped by a clear insight
+into the nature of moral obligation, and the mutual duties and rights of
+the members of society, which strike us with the utmost astonishment.
+Their mythology, with the single exception of the sanction it gives to
+human sacrifices, indicates a much nearer approach to a knowledge of the
+true God than the popular faith of the Greeks or Romans; and sentiments
+are recorded as having been uttered by a prince of the Tezcucan tribe,
+guided solely by the light of his own indwelling reason, which were worthy
+of Plato or of any sage that has ever lived, unenlightened by the hopes of
+revelation on which Christians build their faith. The history of such a
+people, dwelling centuries ago upon our own continent, shrouded as it has
+heretofore been in darkness and vague uncertainty, under the lucid and
+brilliant pen of Mr. PRESCOTT becomes more attractive than any offspring
+of the fancy or imaginative fiction could possibly be. This preliminary
+sketch occupies nearly half of the first volume; and we have never read
+any similar effort of the same extent with equal gratification.
+
+We can of course give no outline of the main portion of the work, the
+history of the train of events by which the whole Mexican empire fell into
+the hands of the conquering Spaniard. It is one of the most romantic
+narratives which ever bore the seal of truth. Its prominent actors are men
+of eminent genius, who performed exploits worthy the greatest captains of
+Europe or Asia; and the history of their lives abounds with interest and
+instruction. Mr. PRESCOTT has a most happy historical style, glowing with
+all the warmth and shining with a far more substantial brilliancy than
+that of BANCROFT; and blending the strict truth of accurate narrative with
+the free flow of a fine imagination, all under the control of an exquisite
+taste, with more success than that of any other American writer, IRVING
+perhaps alone excepted. The authorities upon which he relies for his facts
+are uniformly given in notes, and the fullest information is presented in
+the same form, on all points which concern the accuracy and completeness
+of the work. We read the following passage in our author's preface with
+profound regret: 'For one thing, I may reasonably ask the reader's
+indulgence. Owing to the state of my eyes, I have been obliged to use a
+writing-case made for the blind, which does not permit the writer to see
+his own manuscript; nor have I ever corrected, or even read, my own
+original draft.' Mr. PRESCOTT may well consider this as an ample excuse
+for any errors of typography; of which, by the way, we have not discovered
+even one. We were already aware, on the best authority, that WASHINGTON
+IRVING had prepared to take up the ground so ably occupied by our author;
+a fact to which Mr. Prescott alludes in the following graceful terms:
+
+ 'It was not till I had become master of my rich collection of
+ materials, that I was acquainted with this circumstance; and had
+ he persevered in his design, I should unhesitatingly have
+ abandoned my own, if not from courtesy, at least from policy;
+ for though armed with the weapons of Achilles, this could give
+ me no hope of success in a competition with Achilles himself.
+ But no sooner was that distinguished writer informed of the
+ preparations I had made, than with the gentlemanly spirit which
+ will surprise no one who has the pleasure of his acquaintance,
+ he instantly announced to me his intention of leaving the
+ subject open to me. While I do but justice to Mr. IRVING by this
+ statement, I feel the prejudice it does to myself in the
+ unavailing regret I am exciting in the bosom of the reader.'
+
+We cannot take leave of this splendid book without making mention of the
+truly elegant style in which it has been issued by its liberal publishers.
+It yields in no respect to the finest issue of the Boston, and we had
+almost added, of the London press. The three volumes are large octavo, of
+about five hundred pages each, containing elegant portraits and
+illustrative maps; and yet the whole is sold for six dollars!
+
+
+ THE ÆNEID OF VIRGIL, WITH ENGLISH NOTES, CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY; a
+ Metrical Clavis and an Historical, Geographical and Mythological
+ Index. By CHARLES ANTHON, LL. D. New-York: HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+The cause of sound classical education in America is more deeply indebted
+to Professor ANTHON than to any other scholar in the country; and the debt
+of gratitude already incurred is almost daily increased by the unwearied
+efforts of this distinguished linguist. Beside the voluminous and
+unequalled Dictionaries which he has compiled and published, he has in
+course of preparation a series of the most popular Latin authors, in which
+his principal aim is to adapt them to the use of scholars in our academies
+and higher schools. Another volume of this series, containing the Æneid,
+has just been issued. It is usually among the earliest Latin works placed
+in the pupil's hands, and yet there are few which require a more intimate
+and extended acquaintance with Roman history, domestic habits, mythology,
+geography, and indeed with every thing relating to the Romans as a nation
+and society, in order to a perfect understanding of its character, and a
+genuine relish of its beauties, than this. We doubt the policy, or
+propriety indeed, of placing in the hands of those who are learning the
+elements of a foreign _language_, poems of an elaborate and elevated
+character for text-books. No one, for the purpose of learning English,
+would take up MILTON'S Paradise Lost before the Vicar of Wakefield or
+BUNYAN'S Pilgrim's Progress; for aside from the fact that he would not
+thus be introduced to the simple dialect of ordinary life, its classical
+and doctrinal allusions, its technical terms, and the profound knowledge
+of men, of books, and of nature which it embraces, would render it almost
+a sealed volume to any but those who have already become cultivated and
+accomplished scholars. And although the case is materially different in
+learning the ancient languages, since the object is not to speak or write
+them, but to become familiar with the great works which are written in
+them, it would be unwise if not useless to teach a pupil to read VIRGIL
+without at the same time providing him with the means of thoroughly
+understanding and appreciating his poetry. For these he is usually
+dependent upon the verbal expositions of his teacher, who, even if he
+chance to be well qualified for the task, seldom has sufficient time for
+its proper discharge.
+
+Many attempts have been made to supply this want, and some of them have
+been attended with very fair, though not full, success. COOPER'S edition
+has had the most copious notes, but they are not always accurate, and are
+often upon passages of comparatively little difficulty. GOULD'S notes are
+better, but they are much more sparingly introduced, and do not indeed
+elucidate the really intricate points. The historical and mythological
+references in both these editions are quite scanty; and they must both in
+our judgment speedily give place to this of Dr. ANTHON. The critical and
+explanatory notes to this are all that could be desired. They occupy more
+than six hundred pages, or quite two-thirds of the book, and relate to
+every point of interest or of doubt in the whole Æneid. They are full,
+accurate, and perfectly satisfactory. The author tells us in the preface
+that they comprise the results of all the study and research of modern
+European scholars, and embrace every thing which has been brought to light
+up to the present time. They are very copiously and clearly illustrated by
+neat and perspicuous engravings, which frequently do more than pages of
+description to give a distinct impression to the scholar's mind. The
+construction of Roman ships, the mode of a naval battle, the style of
+conducting a siege, the form of chaplets, of temples, of household
+utensils, of coins, ornaments, and in fine, the exact structure and
+appearance of every thing pertaining to Roman history or Roman life, are
+thus rendered more familiar to the eye than they ever could be to the ear
+of the student. The metrical clavis scans all the difficult lines
+contained in the book, and the general index clearly and briefly
+elucidates all the references which the poem contains to men, incidents,
+and localities. With these recommendations, aided by the typographical
+clearness and beauty which the publishers have given to it, this edition
+of the Æneid must be heartily welcomed by scholars and students (all
+rivalry to the contrary) throughout the United States.
+
+
+ MEXICO: AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS. By BRANTZ MAYER, Late Secretary of
+ Legation to Mexico. In one volume, octavo, pp. 426. 'New World'
+ press: J. WINCHESTER.
+
+We looked through a large portion of this work while all its sheets were
+not yet through the press, and were enabled with some confidence to
+predict that it would create no small sensation in the literary world. Mr.
+MAYER has a free, unpretending style, which renders all that he writes
+eminently _readable_; a merit in which many far more practised writers are
+as signally deficient. The programme furnished in the announcement of the
+work has been well filled up. Many of the ruins and antiquities here
+described have never before been visited or mentioned by any traveller. A
+detailed account is furnished of the present social and political
+condition of Mexico; an elaborate description is given of the antiquities
+to be found in the museum of the capital, and of the ancient remains
+strewn from California to Odjaca. A record is presented of the author's
+journeys to Tezcoco, and through the _tierra-caliente_; and a full account
+of the agriculture, manufactures, commerce, resources, mines, coinage, and
+general statistics of Mexico is given. There is beside a complete view of
+the past and present _history_ of the country, with vivid pictures of the
+domestic manners and customs of the people. The whole is illustrated by
+numerous drawings from the pencil of Mr. MAYER, which have been engraved
+on wood by BUTLER, in that excellent artist's best style. We scarcely
+remember to have met with a work so profusely embellished; and the
+literary and pictorial artist being one and the same person, the reader is
+helped to a far more life-like view of the scenes and things described and
+depicted than he could have obtained under circumstances less favorable to
+the strict fidelity of pen and pencil. The publisher has evinced great
+liberality in the pictorial department of the volume, having expended
+upward of twelve hundred dollars on the illustrations alone. The volume is
+printed upon a fine and white (though somewhat too thin) paper, with a
+large clear type. The work can scarcely fail to attain, what indeed it
+well deserves, a wide diffusion.
+
+
+ SCENES AND SCENERY IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS, AND A TRIP THROUGH
+ CENTRAL AMERICA: being Observations from my Note-book, during the
+ years 1837, to 1842. By JAMES J. JARVES, Member of the Oriental
+ Society, etc. In one vol. pp. 341. Boston: JAS. MUNROE AND COMPANY.
+
+Those of our readers who may have seen a previous work of Mr. JARVES, on
+the history of the Sandwich Islands, which was noticed in this Magazine,
+will perhaps remember the following passage in the preface: 'It was
+designed to interweave with the civil and political account of the nation,
+a series of sketches, illustrative of their present life and condition,
+and other interesting points, which would have enlivened a bare narrative
+of facts; also to have pictured the wondrous natural phenomena of that
+prolific portion of the Pacific, the great volcanic eruption of 1840; and
+a full account of the mightiest of craters, the gigantic _Lua Pele_, of
+Kilanea, in Hawaii. But it would have swelled the volume to an unwieldy
+size. At an early period will be presented an additional volume, which,
+without being connected with the present, will give in detail all that is
+necessary to form a correct view of the Hawaiian Islands, their condition,
+prospects, the every-day concerns of the people, and missionary life as it
+now exists; the two to form a succinct whole, illustrating each other.'
+The volume before us has been written in fulfilment of the foregoing
+pledge. In it the writer has attempted to delineate that which came within
+his immediate observation, during a residence of four years on the Group.
+As a description of the familiar life of a people, in a novel and
+interesting position, one which may with propriety be termed a state of
+transition from barbarism to civilization, it will attract the attention,
+and interest the sympathies of readers of all classes. A portion of the
+sketches have been previously published in journals, and had some
+circulation both at home and abroad. The volume is executed by the eminent
+Boston printer, DICKINSON, and is illustrated with fine maps and plates.
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR'S TABLE.
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR.--We are standing once more together, reader, at that fairy
+vestibule which opens rich with hope and bright to expectation upon
+another twelve-month; a coming lapse of time that like a swell of the
+ocean tossing with its fellows, heaves onward to the land of Death and
+Silence. At such a time, although it seem not meet, it may be, to indulge
+in sad thoughts and pensive recollections, who can refrain from giving a
+backward glance to years that have passed like a weaver's shuttle, and
+woven our 'checkered web of life?' Shall we not for one moment remember
+too, even at this joyous season, the loved and lost who have gone before
+us, to solve the great mystery of life, and the momentous secrets of death
+and the grave? Shall we not remember that _we_ too are passing away; and
+in thoughtful mood, pause to ask with the poet:
+
+ 'ANOTHER year! another year!
+ Oh! who shall see another year?
+ Shalt thou, old man, of hoary head,
+ Of eye-sight dim, and feeble tread?
+ Expect it not! Time, pain, and grief
+ Have made thee like an autumn leaf;
+ Ready, by blast or self-decay,
+ From its slight hold to drop away;
+ And some sad morn may gild thy bier,
+ Long, long before another year!
+
+ 'Another year! another year!
+ Oh! who shall see another year?
+ Shall you, ye young? or you, ye fair?
+ Ah! the presumptuous thought forbear!
+ Beside this church-yard's peaceful bounds,
+ Pause ye, and ponder o'er the mounds:
+ Here beauty sleeps; that verdant length
+ Of grave contains what once was strength;
+ The child, the boy, the man are here--
+ Ye may not see another year!'
+
+While however we give to emotions like these their appropriate vent, we
+are not called upon to forget that there is much that is inspiring and
+delightful in the commencement of the year. The time-honored custom of our
+metropolis has made it a point of peculiar radiance; a halcyon period,
+when heart's-ease would seem to be the general feeling, and smiles the
+social insignia. Then the visit is exchanged between friends whom perhaps
+the departed year had somewhat alienated; old associations are revived,
+and cordialities that had well nigh been forgotten are strengthened and
+renewed. As the lip is wetted with friendly wine, the bosom expands in the
+generous warmth of honest enjoyment; the cold formalities of factitious
+station give place to undisguised welcome and open-handed cheer. The rich
+and the poor meet together, and the spirit of pleasure is with all. As the
+parties go their rounds, and familiar forms and faces appear to greeting
+eyes, the _necessity_ of friendship and the desolation of its absence come
+home to the mind. It is felt that comfort is lost when allied to
+selfishness, and that it is good to be respected or beloved. And as those
+meet between whom the year has passed in sullen estrangement; upon whose
+anger many an evening sun has descended; a relenting spirit obeys the
+mingled voices of Memory and Friendship: the kind resolve is made and
+followed; so that instead of the thorn to goad and wound, there springs up
+in the pathway of the Reconciled the olive or the myrtle. How sweet is the
+sight of human goodness, struggling to surmount the petty passions which
+discolor its beauty, and bending to the benign suggestions of that pure
+and gentle principle, _peace with man_! Doubtless there are many severe
+strivings with natural pride, before these ends can be reached; but the
+new year awakens such throngs of conciliatory sentiments, that it is
+impossible to resist them. The call is made; the oversight or neglect
+explained; the breach is closed; and friendship is paramount! Months of
+reverses and cares and disappointments are lost in that initial day, whose
+span is golden from sun to sun; a lapse to be remembered with quiet
+satisfaction in trials to come. Indeed, a moment's reflection will assure
+any contemplative mind that resentment is the most pitiful passion that
+can agitate the human breast. True, there is such a thing as '_spirit_,'
+but how often is it ill-directed! How often magnified by little causes
+into an importance wholly incommensurate with the object desired! It is
+the province of new-year visits to crush these poisonous weeds of our
+path, to quench their noxious tendrils, and to substitute in their stead
+the balm of friendship and good-will. For such an object the morning of
+the year is most auspicious. The grand festival of our SAVIOUR'S nativity
+has but lately ended, and a preservation of the era of good feeling is
+enjoined both by Precept and Hope. Who can resist such appeals to that
+kindness which increases the happiness of its possessor? With these
+reiterated words of counsel and of affection, let us take present leave of
+our readers, by wishing them in hackneyed phrase, but with unhackneyed
+spirit, a HAPPY NEW-YEAR!
+
+
+THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN.--We wish it were possible to transfer to this printed
+page the beautiful chirography of the annexed communication, which
+proceeds from the pen of a lady who, with a few others of her gentle sex,
+sat out the reading of the lecture upon the '_Rights of Women_,' by Mr.
+JOHN NEAL, at the Broadway Tabernacle last winter, and which was so
+heartily laughed at by the press and the town for a day or two after. It
+is gratifying to remark that _women_ themselves have been the prominent
+satirists of the characteristic absurdities put forth on the occasion
+alluded to. But to our fair correspondent: 'APPEAR, bright Spirits of the
+ancient Nine! (for you were women, and can well appreciate my appeal)
+arrayed in all the panoply of your charms! Thou, MINERVA! aid me with thy
+wisdom! Ye, most lovely GRACES! attend me with the power of honey-like
+persuasiveness! And thou, JOHN NEAL! arrayed in the drapery of the softer
+sex, gracefully to maintain the lofty eminence whereon thou standest,
+assist me with the glorious power of thy overwhelming eloquence, while I
+assert the high prerogative of Woman! Yet when I dwell on the brilliant
+efforts accomplished by thy mighty genius in our behalf, the pen falls
+powerless from my despairing hand, and I can merely point to thee as the
+potent champion of our down-trodden rights! Instead of dwelling in dull
+obscurity, victims to the caprice of men; mending their thread-bare
+clothing and scolding servants--base, unwomanly pursuits!--instead of
+listening in silence to the storms of political debate; instead of
+remaining within the shadow of our own roofs, and gathering around the
+domestic hearth the thornless roses of existence; rendering home a haven
+of rest to the weary and care-worn; instead of slumbering idly, in the
+security of our mansions, when the torrent of war rolls over the land;
+instead of girding then our brothers for the stormy fight, bidding them
+GOD-speed; instead of ignobly bending before the tyrannical power of Man,
+thou, O! astute NEAL! wouldst have us pluck the laurel-wreath from our
+kinsman's brow, and bind it on our own. Thou wouldst have us rise in all
+the dignity of offended 'equality,' and boldly assert the holy right of
+'_free suffrage to all_!' Why, forsooth, should _we_ rather be confined to
+the narrow circle of home than our friends of the other sex? Are we not as
+capable of sounding the loud alarm of war, of mingling in the strife and
+tumult of the battle-hour, as the ladies of antique Amazonia, or the
+warrior-_men_ of our own day? Have we not intellect enough to cope with
+the WEBSTERS, the CLAYS, and the WRIGHTS, in the halls of Congress? Is not
+our dignity sufficient to maintain, with honor to our country and
+ourselves, the various offices of the government? Why may not our superior
+talents elevate us to the lofty station of the presidential chair?--to
+become Ambassadresses, Generalesses, Stateswomen? Surely our intellect is
+as lofty, as noble, and as clear as that in which proud man exults. Arise
+then, Women of America! Study immediately the tactics of military
+discipline; proceed to the green savannahs of Florida; wrest their
+authority from those who now possess it, and deck your own brows of
+loveliness with the wreaths of conquest and of glory. March to the halls
+of legislation; demand from statesmen there assembled the concession of
+'woman's rights,' and desert them not till that 'vantage ground' is well
+secured. Then, ladies, will you be enabled to cast aside with disdain the
+bonds of domestic confinement, which insure merely your peace and
+happiness; to mingle your shrill cries with the tumult of contending
+armies, confounding confusion itself with your loud clamors! You may then
+unite your voices with the shouts of opposing factions at the momentous
+periods of election, huzzaing for your candidates, and gathering all your
+influence to win success for them. So shall you nobly fulfil the high
+destiny allotted you, instead of longer enduring the degrading cares
+attendant on the happiness of your fathers' and your husbands' homes. So
+shall you take by storm the hearts of men as well as the citadels of your
+enemies; forcing them to admire those female 'braves' who so kindly
+relieve them of the weighty burden of their cares.' Capital! This
+mock-heroic is just the vein for a theme so ridiculous as the insane
+crudities here touched upon. By the by; a private note advises us that
+'there have been recent symptoms of chuckling exhibited by the 'champion
+of women,' on the supposition, real or assumed, that the attention of the
+legislatures of several States had been diverted toward 'woman's rights'
+in the matter of personal property between man and wife, by reason of the
+lecture aforesaid!' It is unnecessary perhaps to add, in justice to the
+public sense, that the action of three or four States upon this subject
+had a far different origin, as their legislative records will abundantly
+show.
+
+
+OLE BULL.--We confess ourselves among the uninitiated in the mysteries of
+music. We are quite aware that it is not a little dangerous for one who
+would not lose _caste_ in society to assert that he does not greatly
+admire that ill-assorted compound of '_strains_' which is usually
+designated by the hackneyed phrases of 'brilliant execution' and
+'difficult passages;' passages which Dr. JOHNSON wished were 'not only
+_difficult_ but _impossible_:' we cannot force an admiration nor affect an
+enthusiasm which we do not feel. Indeed, we have always had great sympathy
+for the amateur of fashion who aspired to great refinement of taste, to
+exhibit which, in one branch of art, he gave on one occasion an
+entertainment of instrumental music. While the musicians were _all_ at
+work, he seemed delighted with the performance; but when one instrument
+chanced to be engaged upon a solo, he inquired, in a towering passion, why
+the others were remaining idle? 'It is a _pizzicato_ for one instrument,'
+replied the operator. 'I can't help that,' replied the virtuoso; 'let the
+trumpets _pizzicato_ along with you; they're _paid_ to do it!' Now in
+regard to musical knowledge and taste, this hopeful amateur has many a
+counterpart in this day and generation, and in this same city of Gotham.
+In the case of OLE BULL, however, there has been no call for _affected_
+admiration. He has _compelled_ not only admiration but enthusiasm; not
+indeed by mere artistical 'execution,' although in this he is acknowledged
+to be preëminent, but by the creations of _genius_, which 'take the full
+heart captive.' Let the distant reader imagine an audience of three
+thousand persons awaiting in breathless expectance the entrance upon the
+Park-stage of this great Master. The curtain rises, and after the lapse of
+a moment, a tall manly person, with a frank, ingenuous expression of
+countenance, emerges with an embarrassed salutation from the wing, and
+with another somewhat less constrained, stands in front of the orchestra,
+the focus of every eye and glass in that brilliant assemblage. Pausing for
+a brief space, as if to collect himself, he raises his bow, and with a
+slight motion, beckons to each member of the orchestra in turn, who 'start
+into sound' at his bidding as if touched by the wand of ITHURIEL. When the
+tide of harmony has reached its flood, and is gradually ebbing back to
+fainter sounds, the Master raises his instrument to his shoulder and lays
+his ear upon it, as if listening for his key-note amidst the tones that
+are serpentining through his brain. When to the audience 'nothing lives
+'twixt these and silence,' a strain which has at first a dying fall
+imperceptibly swells on the ear. It is _the_ instrument, beyond all
+peradventure; and from that moment you are 'all ear.' While you are
+wondering why you never knew before that there was such a _volume_ of
+sound in a violin, a passage of infinite pathos arrests your _heart_, and
+you find your eyes moistening under its influence. It subsides into
+tremulous tones that retreat farther and farther from the ear, until they
+seem to come from a mile's distance; anon, they begin to approach again,
+and swelling gradually upon the 'aching sense,' almost overpower you with
+their fulness of melody. This transcendent effort of genius reminded us of
+the phantasmagora, or 'magic lantern;' for what the lessening and
+enlarging figures of that instrument are to the _eye_, OLE BULL'S magic
+sounds are to the _ear_. We had intended to allude in detail to several of
+the performances of this great Master; but we lack the requisite space. We
+can only instance the 'Norwegian Rondo,' the 'Themes from BELLINI,' and
+the 'Carnival at Venice,' as eminently justifying the fervent enthusiasm
+which they excited. It was no unnatural combination of splendid
+sinuosities, of small notes split into hexagonals, and attenuated into
+tremors that were 'no great _shakes_' after all, which entranced the
+audience; it was full, rich tones; it was melody, harmony, that won their
+loud and almost irrepressible applause. We have not yet had the pleasure
+to hear VIEUX-TEMPS, the distinguished violinist recently arrived among
+us. His numerous friends and countrymen in the metropolis rank him even
+above OLE BULL. We are inclined, however, to trust the comparison made by
+an eminent brother-artist, who assisted at his first concert:
+'VIEUX-TEMPS,' said he, 'is a very accomplished _artist_; but OLE BULL is
+a magnificent _genius_.' We shall have something to say of VIEUX-TEMPS,
+ARTOT, and Sig. CASSELA, in a subsequent number of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+should time and occasion serve.
+
+
+A SECOND 'RALPH RINGWOOD.'--We have a western correspondent, a 'man of
+mark' in his region, and far from unknown elsewhere, who has seen a good
+deal of the world, and whose entertaining epistles always remind us of the
+graphic '_Experiences of Ralph Ringwood_,' as recorded in these pages by
+WASHINGTON IRVING. Here is a fragment of youthful reminiscence, fresh from
+his mint, 'which it is hoped may please;' and if it _does_, we will use
+our 'selectest influence' to induce him to write out for us a series of
+papers containing his complete autobiography, which we have good reason to
+believe would overflow with romance and strange vicissitude: 'I was
+raised,' he writes, 'as we western folks term it, in a small village some
+fifteen miles from Boston, and when about sixteen years of age I paid a
+visit to the metropolis for the first time in my life. When I first
+arrived there I spent some hours in trying to hunt up an old play-mate who
+had been bound apprentice to a Boston mechanic some two years previous. I
+could hear nothing of him, however, and so gave up the search. But one
+day, while sauntering down the main-street, and wondering at all I saw, I
+suddenly encountered a strange sight. It was _a sheep_, dead and dressed,
+but moving along the side-walk in an upright position, and apparently
+without help! Puzzled at this phenomenon, I turned round as it passed me,
+in order to observe it more closely; when to my astonishment I discovered
+a boy behind it, who with the sheep on his back was shuffling along the
+walk, stern-foremost. I was still more astonished when I recognized in
+this lad my old and long-sought playmate. 'DICK, my boy!' said I, grasping
+his hand warmly. DICK seemed a little embarrassed at first; but after a
+moment's hesitation, he threw down his load spitefully, and seizing my
+hand returned my grasp as cordially as it had been given. 'For GOD's sake,
+DICK,' inquired I, 'how long is it since you commenced walking backward?'
+'Not a great while,' replied he, with a grin. 'To tell you the truth,
+FRANK, I saw you looking in the jeweller's window there, and knew you at
+once; and as I didn't care to be seen by an old comrade with a sheep on my
+back, I was in hopes to escape your observation by walking in the manner
+in which you saw me.' 'And that was the very thing which led me to
+discover you,' I replied; 'you might have passed me in the ordinary way,
+nineteen times in every twenty, without being recognized.' 'Well, it's all
+one now, since you have found me out,' said DICK. 'But what, after all,
+are you going to do with that measly-looking animal?' I inquired. 'Eat
+it,' replied he, with a comical twist of the nose; 'I have to lug one home
+every day; we apprentices live on them altogether. I'm a sheep myself,
+almost; _b-a-a-h_!' and here he imitated the cry of that animal so
+naturally, that I had no doubt of the truth of his statement. After a few
+moments' conversation, chiefly about home, the clock struck ten, when DICK
+suddenly resumed his load, and after giving me the directions to the 'old
+man's' house, and exacting a promise to call and see him in the evening,
+he started for home. At the appointed hour in the evening, I called to see
+him, as agreed upon, and found him waiting for me. But what a
+different-looking personage from the one I met in the morning! He was now
+very smartly dressed in a small black frock-coat, and drab gaiter-trowsers
+strapped tightly over a pair of nicely-polished boots. On his head a black
+velvet cap, from which two enormous tassels were swinging, was setting
+jauntily on one side, while in his hand he carried a little silver-headed
+cane, with which he occasionally rapped his legs. In my unsophisticated
+eyes he was a very paragon of gentility, and I couldn't help contrasting
+him with my own countrified appearance. However, I had but a moment for
+reflection; for sallying into the street, with me at his heels, DICK at
+once proposed going to the theatre. I agreed without hesitation, for the
+big play-bills had been staring me in the face all day, and on them were
+emblazoned in large capitals the names of COOPER and FINN, who were to
+play together that evening in one of SHAKSPEARE'S comedies. When we
+arrived at the play-house, DICK took me aside, and pointing to the little
+window in the office, proposed that I should go and purchase the tickets;
+'because,' said he, 'the box-keeper knows me.' I couldn't exactly
+comprehend why the fact of his being known to the box-keeper should
+prevent his purchasing the tickets himself. However, I supposed it was all
+right, and so I crowded up to the little window, and after awaiting my
+turn, obtained two pit-tickets, for which I had to pay out of my own
+pocket, of course. Dick took them from me when I returned, and then again
+resuming the lead, he conducted me into the lobby of the play-house. Here
+he handed the tickets to the door-keeper, at the same time nodding his
+head toward me, in order to intimate to that gentleman that I was under
+his special patronage, and that the other admission was intended for me.
+Once seated in the centre of the pit, DICK seemed to be in his glory. He
+ogled the ladies in the boxes, and whistled and shouted and stamped, and
+cried 'Physic!' until I thought he would split his throat. But when at
+last the gloomy curtain rose and the stars of the evening stood glittering
+before us, he clapped and shouted so much louder and longer than all the
+rest, that the whole audience gazed at him with admiration. He would have
+gone on applauding, I verily believe, until the end of the play, had not a
+tall gentleman, with a red handkerchief round his throat, and carrying a
+long pole, rapped him over the head, and peremptorily shouted 'Silence!'
+From that moment DICK was as mute as a Quaker, until the end of the play;
+when rushing out and dragging me after him, he proposed that we should go
+and finish the evening at a celebrated coffee-house, kept by 'a particular
+friend of his,' and where he had agreed to meet some half-dozen
+fellow-apprentices. Here we stayed until a very late hour, drinking and
+smoking, telling stories and singing songs. As it grew later, our
+companions one by one walked or reeled out of the bar-room, until we two
+were left the only tenants, save the landlord. The latter then commenced
+closing the house, and hinted pretty strongly that it was high time we
+were going. I turned to DICK, who had been remarkably silent for some
+time, when to my utter dismay I discovered that he was perfectly
+insensible from drink. I looked up to the landlord for counsel. He was a
+short, _squab_ man, with a bulbous excresence growing out from between his
+shoulders, that I suppose passed for a head, though it looked like a wen;
+a kind of expletive, to wear a hat on, or to fill up the hollow of a
+shabby wig. 'What shall we _do_ with him?' said I. 'Hustle him out!' cried
+he; 'hustle him out! he didn't get his liquor here: I've no room for such
+company!' I then endeavored to put my companion upon his feet, but his
+legs bent under him, and his whole body seemed as limber and lifeless as a
+wet rag. 'You can't do any thing with him in _that_ way,' continued the
+landlord; 'if you want to get him home to-night, you must take him on your
+back and carry him there yourself. He'll be bright enough in the morning.'
+I saw no other way of proceeding; and so, being strong and athletic
+myself, while DICK was of slight proportions, I managed, with the
+assistance of the landlord, to get him upon my back, and then started for
+his master's house. As my burthen was perfectly speechless, I had plenty
+of time for uninterrupted thought as I trudged along; and I couldn't help
+contrasting the apprentice of the morning with the apprentice of the
+present moment. _Then_, though rather coarsely dressed, and smooched with
+the marks of labor, he blushed at being caught with a sheep on his back,
+though he had come honestly by it; but _now_, though bedecked in the
+habiliments of a gentleman, he was being carried home himself like a beast
+on the back of a companion. On reaching his master's house I laid him down
+upon the door-sill, where he commenced breathing intensely through his
+nose, while I fumbled round for the handle of the bell, which I rang. The
+'old man' himself came to the door, and looking down at his apprentice,
+shook his head sorrowfully. Then turning to a black domestic, who with a
+candle in her hand stood grinning behind him, he said, 'Here's DICK come
+home drunk again, Dinah; you must take him up stairs and get him to bed in
+the best way you can.' The old gentleman turned away with a tear in his
+eye, and I also departed, leaving DICK, who had come to his senses a
+little, struggling in the arms of the brawny black, and vainly trying to
+kiss her polished cheek. Thus ended my first youthful adventure in a
+city.'
+
+
+GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--We encounter in our personal
+correspondence not a few comments, pro and con, upon the papers on '_Mind
+and Instinct_,' which appeared in the last two numbers of the
+KNICKERBOCKER. Our friend and correspondent, 'HARRY FRANCO,' among others,
+in a gossiping epistle to the Editor, writes as follows:
+
+ 'I HAVE been considerably interested in your correspondent's
+ paper on mind and instinct; only I rather wonder at his laboring
+ to prove a theory which few are inclined to question. But he
+ does not after all, it appears to me, draw the right conclusions
+ from his argument. All living beings have a mind, or reason, or
+ what you will, which prompts them to do all that their animal
+ functions are capable of performing. In this respect man is as
+ much governed by instinct as a brute. My neighbor's dog every
+ night when I come home walks up to me, wags his tail, and looks
+ in my face, and says in his way, 'How are you?' His master gives
+ me a nod, takes his pipe from his mouth, and says the same. But
+ when a stranger comes to my door, neither the dog nor his master
+ salutes him; but were he to fall into the brook, they would both
+ run to pull him out. Are they not both influenced by exactly the
+ same feelings? If I should ask my neighbor to endorse my note,
+ he would look sulky, hem! and haw! and refuse; if I should
+ attempt to take a bone from his dog, the brute would snarl and
+ growl, and perhaps bite me. Do you see any marvellous difference
+ between the two animals? A near neighbor of mine, about six
+ months since, had a little boy of four years old, who had a
+ spaniel of which he was very fond. One day during the absence of
+ the father, the child was taken ill with the croup; the mother
+ was alarmed, and it so happened that her servants were away, and
+ she had no one to send for a physician. The poor woman was in
+ great tribulation, for in spite of all her efforts the child
+ grew worse. In about an hour after the child was taken ill, her
+ father's carriage stopped at the door, and her mother made her
+ appearance. Her father's house was about two miles distant. The
+ grandmother said that Carlo, the sick child's dog, 'came running
+ into the house, all bespattered with mud, and flew about and
+ acted so strangely that she knew something must be the matter
+ with little Billy, her grandson, and she came to see what it
+ was.' Until then, the mother of the child had not noticed the
+ absence of the dog from the room, for the boy was playing with
+ him when he was taken sick. The child remained ill three or four
+ days, and then died; and during the whole time the dog never
+ left his bed-side; he watched by the corpse until it was buried,
+ and then took possession of the little boy's chair, which he
+ would allow no one to touch, not even the child's mother. Every
+ day he absented himself for three or four hours; and the father
+ one day going to look at his child's grave, found that the dog
+ had almost scratched his way down to the coffin. He was after
+ this kept within doors; but he refused to eat, and in a short
+ time died in the chair of his little master. If I had time, I
+ could tell you a story almost as touching, in relation to a pig,
+ an animal that phrenologically speaking has generally been
+ looked upon as somewhat deficient in the region of the
+ sentiments.'
+
+NOW that our attention has been awakened to the subject, we find in our
+casual reading the testimony in favor of 'mind in animals' greatly to
+increase and multiply. OLEUS MAGNUS, Bishop of Norway, in a work written
+in Latin some two centuries ago, tells us of a fox that, in order to get
+rid of the fleas which infested his skin, was accustomed to swim out into
+a lake with a straw band held high and dry in his mouth. When the
+water-hating vermin had all escaped from his submerged body to the dry
+straw, down dived Reynard, leaving his tormentors 'at sea,' and rising
+again beyond the scope of safe jumping. 'Curious, isn't it?' A
+correspondent at Rochester, 'who experienced much satisfaction in the
+perusal of the article' above alluded to, was yet 'a little dissatisfied
+with the closing portion of it.' The proposition of the writer to 'abstain
+entirely from animal food,' on the score of humanity, he considers
+'especially ridiculous.' He has 'the gravest authority for stating, that
+every drop of water that quenches our thirst or laves our bodies, contains
+innumerable insects, which are sacrificed to our necessities or comforts;
+each ingredient in the simplest vegetable fare conveys to inevitable
+destruction thousands of the most beautiful and harmless of created
+beings. From the first to the last gasp of our lives, we never inhale the
+air of heaven without butchering myriads of sentient and innocent
+creatures. Can we upbraid ourselves then for supporting our lives by the
+death of a few animals, many of whom are themselves carnivorous, when the
+infant who has lived for a single day has killed an infinitely greater
+number of human beings than the longest life would suffice to murder by
+design? Or, if we sacrifice either our lives or our comforts by
+scrupulously denying ourselves the use of animal food, can we derive much
+consolation from considering that we spare a few scores of beings, when we
+involuntarily, but knowingly, are every moment massacreing more than the
+longest life-time would suffice to enumerate?' · · · A REFERENCE to the
+case of '_Rachael Baker, the American Somnambulist_,' in a late London
+Magazine, has recalled that remarkable phenomenon very forcibly to our
+mind. RACHAEL BAKER resided within four miles of 'the house where we were
+born;' and the first exhibitions of her religious exercises during sleep
+took place alternately at the homestead and the residence of a relation in
+its near vicinity. We remember as it were but yesterday the solemnity
+which sat upon the faces of the assembled neighbors, as they awaited the
+signal-groan from an adjoining apartment, to which, at about seven P. M.,
+the Somnambulist usually retired for the night. When the door was opened
+the crowd pressed in. The sleeper, dressed in white muslin, lay straight
+and motionless in bed; her eyes closed, her face white and inflexible as
+marble; and her fingers with livid marks beneath the nails, clasped meekly
+upon her bosom. Flecks of foam were visible at the corners of her mouth,
+and her lips moved 'as if they would address themselves to speech,' for
+some seconds before any audible sound came from them. At length, however,
+in a clear silvery voice she opened with prayer; a prayer fervent,
+devotional, and evidently direct from the heart. When this was concluded,
+and after the lapse of a brief space, she began an exhortation, in
+language pure, beautiful, often eloquent, and occasionally rising to a
+noble sublimity; and then closed with prayer. If interrupted with a
+question, as she frequently was, by clergymen, medical gentlemen, and
+others, she answered it with readiness, and with a felicity of language
+surpassing belief. 'RACHAEL,' said a clergyman to her in our hearing one
+evening, while in the midst of her discourse, 'why do you engage in these
+exercises? and why----' She interrupted the speaker with words to this
+effect: 'I, even I, a worm of the dust, am but a feeble instrument in the
+hands of HIM who hath declared, 'I will pour out of my spirit upon you;
+and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy; your young men shall see
+visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. And on my servants and on my
+handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my spirit, and they shall
+prophesy.' Even _so_ FATHER, for so it seemeth good in thy sight!' The
+girl was of bashful demeanor; altogether uneducated; could scarcely read;
+knew little of the Bible; and indeed in her waking hours conversed in a
+language that was far from being respectable English; but neither in her
+prayers nor in her exhortations was she ever at fault; nor did she at any
+time exhibit the slightest hesitation or confusion. Her answers to
+questions were brief, pointed, and invariably correct. Crowds flocked to
+see her, until the public curiosity overran all bounds. She was visited by
+many persons from New-York; and finally, under the direction of a
+committee of medical gentlemen from the city, was brought to the
+metropolis, where she created a great sensation. A pamphlet was written
+upon her case by Dr. MITCHELL; and we should feel greatly obliged to any
+reader who would place it for a short time in our hands. · · · A VALUED
+friend and correspondent, to whose kindness we have frequently been
+indebted, has sent us a '_Massachusetts Centinel_,' printed in Boston
+sixty years ago; in which, among many other curious and amusing matters,
+there is a copy of an original letter written by the celebrated GEORGE
+ALEXANDER STEVENS, author of 'Lecture on Heads,' etc., dated at 'Yarmouth
+Jail, County of Norfolk,' which runs thus:
+
+ 'SIR: When I parted from you at Doncaster, I imagined, long
+ before this, to have met with some oddities worth acquainting
+ you with. It is grown a fashion of late to write lives; I have
+ now, and for a long time have had, leisure enough to undertake
+ mine, but want materials for the latter part of it; for my
+ existence now cannot properly be called living, but what the
+ painters term _still life_; having ever since February 13, been
+ confined in this town-goal for a London debt.
+
+ 'As a hunted deer is always shunned by the happier herd, so am I
+ deserted by the company,[7] my share taken off, and no support
+ left me, save what my wife can spare me out of hers:
+
+ 'Deserted in my utmost need
+ By those my former bounty fed.'
+
+ [7] The Norwich company of players, to which he belonged.
+
+ 'With an economy, which until now I was a stranger to, I have
+ made shift to victual hitherto my little garrison, but then it
+ has been with the aid of my good friends and allies--my clothes.
+ This week's eating finishes my last waistcoat; and next, I must
+ atone for my errors upon bread and water.
+
+ 'THEMISTOCLES had so many towns to furnish his table, and a
+ whole city bore the charge of his meals. In some respects I am
+ like him, for I am furnished by the labors of a multitude. A wig
+ has fed me two days; the trimming of a waistcoat as long; a pair
+ of velvet breeches paid my washerwoman, and a ruffled shirt has
+ found me in shaving. My coats I swallowed by degrees. The
+ sleeves I breakfasted upon for weeks; the body, skirts, etc.,
+ served me for dinner two months. My silk stocking have paid my
+ lodgings, and two pair of new pumps enabled me to smoke several
+ pipes. It is incredible how my appetite, (barometer like) rises
+ in proportion as my necessities make their terrible advances. I
+ here could say something droll about a good stomach, but it is
+ ill jesting with edge tools, and I am sure that is the sharpest
+ thing about me. You may think I can have no sense of my
+ condition, that while I am thus wretched, I should offer at
+ ridicule: but, Sir, people constituted like me, with a
+ disproportioned levity of spirits, are always most merry when
+ they are most miserable; and quicken like the eyes of the
+ consumptive, which are always brightest the nearer the patient
+ approaches his dissolution. However, Sir, to show you I am not
+ lost to all reflection, I think myself poor enough to want a
+ favor, and humble enough to ask it here. Sir, I might make an
+ encomium on your good nature, humanity, etc.; but I shall not
+ pay so bad a compliment to your understanding, as to endeavor,
+ by a parade of phrases, to win it over to my interest. If you
+ could, any night at a concert, make a small collection for me,
+ it might be a means of my obtaining my liberty; and you well
+ know, Sir, the first people of rank abroad will perform the most
+ friendly offices for the sick; be not, therefore, offended at
+ the request of a poor (though a deservedly punished) debtor.
+
+ 'GEO. A. STEVENS.'
+
+AMONG the facetiæ of the 'Centinel' we find a clever hit at two prominent
+official characters of the name of DAY: 'TITUS, a Roman emperor, we are
+told, once lamented that '_he had lost a Day_.' If the commonwealth of
+Massachusetts were to _lose two Days_, it would not be the cause of much
+lamentation!' A correspondent elsewhere observes, that in a procession on
+a certain solemn occasion in this city, the place of the physician was
+immediately before the corpse; which, he adds, was 'exactly consonant with
+the etiquette observed at capital executions in ancient times; the
+_executioner_ always going before!' By the way, 'speaking of STEVENS;'
+perhaps the reader of good things at second-hand may not be aware how much
+he is indebted to this author's '_Lectures on Heads_' for amusement and
+instruction. They were very popular throughout Great Britain; and as
+illustrated by the author, after the manner of 'OLD MATTHEWS,' they are
+said to have been irresistible. It was in this collection that the
+law-cases of 'BULLUM _vs._ BOATUM' and 'DANIEL _vs._ DISHCLOUT' had their
+origin. They are familiar to every school-boy, not less for their wit than
+the canine Latinity in which they abound; '_Primus strokus est provokus_;
+now who gave the _primus strokus_? Who gave the first offence?' Or, 'a
+drunken man is '_homo duplicans_,' or a double man, seeing things double,'
+etc., etc. We annex an example or two of the writer's _individuality_. The
+first is a sketch of a _nil admirari_ critic and amateur, who has
+travelled long enough abroad to fall in love with every thing foreign, and
+despise every thing belonging to his own country except himself: 'He
+pretended to be a great judge of paintings, but only admired those done a
+great way off, and a great while ago; he could not bear any thing painted
+by any of his own countrymen. One day being in an auction-room where there
+was a number of capital pictures, and among the rest an inimitable
+painting of fruits and flowers, the connoisseur would not give his opinion
+of the picture until he had examined his catalogue; when, finding it was
+done by one of his own countrymen, he pulled out his eye-glass,
+exclaiming: 'This fellow has spoiled a fine piece of canvass; he's worse
+than a sign-post dauber; there's no keeping, no perspective, no
+fore-ground, no _chiar'oscuro_. Look you, he has attempted to paint _a
+fly_ upon that rose-bud! Why, it is no more like a fly than I am like an
+----' But as the connoisseur approached his finger to the picture, the fly
+flew away. It happened to be the _real_ insect!' Is not the following a
+forcible picture of a mercurial, hero-loving Frenchman? 'Has he property?
+An edict from the _Grand Monarque_ can take it, and he is satisfied.
+Pursue him to the Bastile, or the dismal dungeon in the country to which a
+lettre-de-cachet conveys him, and buries him for life: there see him in
+all his misery; ask him 'What is the cause?' '_Je ne sai pas_; it is the
+will of the _Grand Monarque_.' Give him a _soup-maigre_, a little sallad,
+and a hind-quarter of a frog, and he's in spirits. 'Fal, lal, lal! _Vive
+le Roi? Vive la bagatelle!'_' Here we have a Materialist proving the
+affinity of matter: 'All round things are globular, all square things
+flat-sided. Now, if the bottom is equal to the top, and the top equal to
+the bottom, and the bottom and top are equal to the four sides, then all
+matter is as broad as it is long.' But the materialist 'had not in his
+head matter sufficient to prove matter efficient; and being thus
+deficient, he knew nothing of the matter.' One of STEVENS'S 'heads' was
+that of a heartless, devil-may-care sort of person, in some respects like
+the hero of '_A Capital Joke_' in preceding pages, who is always 'keeping
+it up.' He illustrates his own character very forcibly: 'I'll tell you how
+it was; you see, I was in high spirits, so I stole a dog from a blind man,
+for I do _so_ love fun! So then the blind man cried for his dog, and that
+made me laugh; so says I to the blind man. 'Halloo, master! do you want
+your dog?' 'Yes, Sir, indeed, _indeed_ I do,' says he. Then says I to the
+blind man, says I, 'Go look for him! Keep it up!' I always turn sick when
+I think of a parson; and my brother, he's a parson too, and he hates to
+hear any body swear; so I always swear when I am along with him, just to
+roast him. I went to dine with him one day last week; and as soon as I
+arrived, I began to swear. I never swore so well in all my life; I swore
+all my new oaths. At last my brother laid down his knife and fork, and
+lifting up his hands and eyes, he calls out: '_O Tempora! O Mores_.' 'Oh,
+ho! brother,' says I, 'don't think to frighten me by calling all your
+family about you. I don't mind you nor your family neither. Only bring
+Tempora and Moses _here_--that's all! I'll box 'em for five pounds. Keep
+it up!' · · · THERE is many a bereaved heart that will be touched by the
+following sad, sad lines, from the pen of JOHN RUDOLPH SUTERMEISTER, a
+young and gifted poet, whose mortal part has 'been ashes these many a
+year,' and whom the reader may remember as the author of a little poem
+widely quoted and admired many years ago, commencing:
+
+ 'O! for my bright and faded hours!
+ When life was like a summer stream,
+ On whose gay banks the virgin flowers
+ Blushed in the morning's rosy beam,
+ Or danced upon the breeze that bare
+ Its store of rich perfume along,
+ While the wood-robin poured on air
+ The ravishing delights of song!'
+
+To us, who are familiar with the painful circumstances under which they
+were written, and the deep affliction which they deplore, they seem almost
+to sob with irrepressible grief:
+
+ A LAMENT.
+
+ I.
+
+ GIVE not to me the wreath of green,
+ The blooming vase of flowers;
+ They breathe of joy which once hath been,
+ Of gone and faded hours!
+ I cannot love the rose; though rich,
+ Its beauty will not last:
+ Give me--give _me_ the bloom o'er which
+ The early blight hath passed!
+ The yellow buds--give _them_ to rest
+ On my cold brow and joyless breast,
+ When life is failing fast!
+
+ II.
+
+ Take far from me the wine-cup bright,
+ In hours of revelry;
+ It suits glad brows, and bosoms light,
+ It is not meet for me:
+ Oh! I can pledge the heart no more
+ I pledged in days gone by;
+ Sorrow hath touched my bosom's core,
+ And I am left--to die!
+ Give me to drink of Lethe's wave,
+ Give me the cold and cheerless grave,
+ O'er which the night-winds sigh!
+
+ III.
+
+ Wake not upon my tuneless ear
+ Soft music's stealing strain;
+ It cannot soothe, it cannot cheer
+ This anguished heart again!
+ But place the Æolian harp upon
+ The tomb of her I love;
+ There, when Heaven shrouds the dying sun,
+ My weary steps will rove,
+ While o'er its chords Night pours its breath,
+ To list the serenade of death
+ Her silent bourne above!
+
+ IV.
+
+ Give me to seek the lonely tomb
+ Where sleeps the sainted dead,
+ When the pale night-fall throws its gloom
+ Above her narrow bed!
+ There, while the winds which sweep along,
+ O'er the harp-strings are driven,
+ And the funereal soul of song
+ Upon the air is given,
+ Oh! let my faint and parting breath
+ Be mingled with that song of death,
+ And flee with it to heaven!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+'WHO hath redness of eyes?' This interrogative 'portion of divine
+scripture' is forcibly illustrated by an anecdote, related with most
+effective dryness by a friend of ours. An elderly gentleman, accustomed to
+'indulge,' entered the bar-room of an inn in the pleasant city of H----,
+on the Hudson, where sat a grave Friend toasting his toes by the fire.
+Lifting a pair of green spectacles upon his forehead, rubbing his inflamed
+eyes, and calling for a hot brandy-toddy, he seated himself by the grate;
+and as he did so, he remarked to Uncle BROADBRIM that 'his eyes were
+getting weaker and weaker, and that even spectacles didn't seem to do 'em
+any good.' 'I'll tell thee friend,' rejoined the Quaker, 'what I think. I
+think if thee was to _wear thy spectacles over thy mouth_ for a few
+months, thy eyes would get sound again!' The 'complainant' did not even
+return thanks for this medical counsel, but sipped his toddy in silence,
+and soon after left the room, 'uttering never a word.' · · · THERE have
+been various surmises, and sundry contradictory statements, in relation to
+the work superscribed '_Count D'Orsay on Etiquette_,' which we noticed at
+some length in our December issue. Mr. WILLIS, of the 'New Mirror' weekly
+journal, seems to question its having been _written_ by the COUNT, but
+expresses his belief that he may have loaned his name to the publishers
+'for a consideration;' and this may possibly have been the fact with the
+latest London edition. The author of the work in question, however, is Mr.
+CHARLES WILLIAM DAY, an English gentleman, whose acquaintance with the
+usages of the best European society is personal and authentic; who has
+observed and travelled much; and who is moreover an artist of a high
+order; painting in miniature, and sketching with admirable skill. An
+esteemed friend and correspondent of this Magazine writes us from Boston,
+that the manner of the fraud is somewhat as follows: 'Mr. DAY is the
+author of a Journal of Travels, which Messrs. LONGMAN AND COMPANY of
+London proposed to publish. As they treated him, however, in a
+dishonorable manner, he withdrew his MSS. from them and came to America.
+In retaliation, they sent orders to this country to have a spurious
+edition published of his work on 'Etiquette,' which they had formerly
+brought out, and which they truly supposed he designed to reprint in
+New-York or Boston. It has passed through more than twenty editions in
+London; a fact which I know, from having seen the Messrs. LONGMANS'
+letters and accounts with the author. His own edition is now in press in
+Boston; and I learn that he has added some 'Hints' with an especial eye to
+Yankee manners.' We have also received a letter from Mr. DAY himself, in
+which, while he 'forbears at present to make any comments on the conduct
+of the Messrs. LONGMAN,' he proves beyond a doubt that 'the Count D'ORSAY
+is _not_ the writer of the 'Hints on Etiquette,' but that he himself is
+'the real, true author,' past all peradventure. · · · A FRIEND lately
+returned from the west, relates among other matters the following
+anecdote: 'On board of one of the steam-boats on the Mississippi, I
+encountered a deck-hand, who went by the name of BARNEY. Like many of his
+class, he was a drinking, reckless fellow, but warm-hearted, good-natured,
+and generous to a fault. In early life he was in easy circumstances; was a
+husband, and the father of several children. But one night during a
+violent storm the house in which he resided was struck by lightning, and
+the whole family, save himself, were instantly killed. His own escape was
+considered a miracle at the time, not even a hair of his head having been
+singed. From that time, however, he took to drinking, and so sank lower
+and lower until he became what I found him. When I had heard his story, I
+felt somewhat interested in the man, and one day managed to draw him into
+conversation. He told me his early history with much natural pathos; and
+finding him in the 'melting mood' I endeavored to lead him to some serious
+thoughts upon the subject of his misfortunes, and especially of that one
+which had bereft him in so awful a manner of his wife and children.
+'BARNEY,' said I, 'don't you think it was a signal mercy that you alone
+should have escaped unharmed from the bolt which destroyed all else you
+loved upon earth? Was there not at least something _singular_ in the
+fact?' 'That's what I said myself,' replied BARNEY, in a tremulous voice;
+'I always thought it was _very_ sing'lar. But the fact I suppose was this,
+Mr. WHITEHAT. The lightning, you see, was afraid of _a man_, and so like a
+d----d sneak, it went twisting about to scorch women and little children!'
+· · · BLACKWOOD has proclaimed in a late number, the '_Characteristics of
+English Society_,' in language of truth and soberness, which goes
+explicitly to confirm the reports of nearly all American and other
+'foreigners' who have visited England. We subjoin an extract contrasting
+English with French society:
+
+ 'WE should indeed be sorry if our demeanor in those vast crowds,
+ where English people flock together, rather, as it would seem,
+ to assert a right, than to gratify an inclination, were to be
+ taken as an index of our national character: the want of all
+ ease and simplicity, those essential ingredients of agreeable
+ society, which distinguish these dreary meetings have long been
+ unfortunately notorious. Too busy to watch the feelings of
+ others, and too earnest to moderate our own, that true
+ politeness which pays respect to age; which tries to put the
+ most insignificant person in company on a level with the most
+ considerable--virtues which our neighbors possess in an eminent
+ degree--are, except in a few favored instances, unknown among
+ us; while affectation, in other countries the badge of ignorance
+ and vulgarity, is ours, even in its worst shape, when it borrows
+ the mien of rudeness, impertinence, and effrontery, the
+ appendage of those whose station is most conspicuous, and whose
+ dignity is best ascertained. There is more good breeding in the
+ cottage of a French peasant than in all the boudoirs of
+ Grosvenor square. · · · 'Frivolity and insipidity are the
+ prevailing characteristics of conversation; and nowhere in
+ Europe, perhaps, does difference of fortune or of station
+ produce more unsocial or illiberal separation. Very few of those
+ whom fortune has released from the necessity of following some
+ laborious profession are capable of passing their time agreeably
+ without the assistance of company; not from the spirit of gaity
+ which calls upon society for indulgence; not from any pleasure
+ they take in conversation, where they are frequently languid and
+ taciturn; but to rival each other in the luxury of the table, or
+ by a great variety of indescribable airs, to make others feel
+ the pain of mortification. They meet as if to fight the
+ boundaries of their rank and fashion, and the less definite and
+ perceptible is the line which divides them, the more punctilious
+ is their pride. It is a great mistake to suppose that this
+ low-minded folly is peculiar to people of rank; it is _an
+ English disease_.'
+
+No doubt of it; and the question naturally arises, 'Are not these the
+proper people to talk about men and manners and society in America?' · · ·
+'NEVER mind, my dear,' says Baron POMPOLINO, while endeavoring to fit the
+fairy slipper of the lovely CINDERELLA upon the long splay foot of one of
+his ungainly daughters, 'never mind, my dear, _she is not at all like
+you_!' The doting father, it will be remembered, gives this verdict as a
+flattering compliment. We have sometimes been amused, where the _quo
+animo_ was apparent, with similar compliments at the hands of reciprocal
+critics of literature. Pleasant examples in this kind have been furnished
+lately. A very voluminous critic, very far 'down east,' spoke recently in
+a metropolitan journal of GOLDSMITH's '_Deserted Village_' as 'a very
+common-place poem, at the best, and only saved from utter and most
+contemptuous forgetfulness by two or three pleasantries about 'broken
+tea-cups,' etc., and by one single passage that smacks of sublimity!' Of
+the poetry however of the author of '_Man in his Various Aspects under the
+American Republic_,' he expresses in the same columns quite a different
+opinion. 'There has been,' he writes, 'no English poetry better than his,
+within the memory of man!' A writer in the last number of the '_Southern
+Literary Messenger_,' likewise voluminous in prose and verse, if we
+rightly surmise, exhibits contrasts of judgment somewhat kindred with the
+foregoing, although certainly less violent. The author of 'Man in his
+various Aspects,' he tells us, 'has a _boldness_ that attracts;' his are
+the 'strong and struggling conceptions which seek utterance in new and
+original forms.' He dares 'to shun the beaten paths,' and is not afraid to
+be obscure. His is not the poetry 'which takes the popular ear without
+tasking the popular thought,' like 'the simple common-places of
+LONGFELLOW.' Such 'criticism' as this we have cited must needs 'make the
+judicious' laugh merely, being too impotent to make them 'grieve.' It is
+not perhaps assuming too much to suppose, that GOLDSMITH's 'Deserted
+Village' and LONGFELLOW's 'Psalms of Life,' _simple_ though they be, will
+live and be cherished in generations of human hearts, when the volumes of
+our critics and their client that yet survive the recollection of any save
+their publishers, shall be 'forgotten and clean out of mind.' · · · IT is
+related of the celebrated clergyman, JOHN MASON, that sitting at a
+steam-boat table on one occasion, just as the passengers were 'falling to'
+in the customary manner, he suddenly rapped vehemently upon the board with
+the end of his knife, and exclaimed: 'Captain! is this boat out of the
+jurisdiction of GOD ALMIGHTY? If not, let us at least thank HIM for his
+continued goodness;' and he proceeded to pronounce 'grace' amidst the most
+reverent stillness. It is to be hoped, however, that his 'grace' was not
+like the few set words handed down from father to son, mumbled without
+emotion, and despatched with indecent haste, which one sometimes hears
+repeated over country repasts. 'Bless this portion of food now in
+readiness for us; give it to us in thy love; let us eat and drink in thy
+fear--for CHRIST's sake----LORENZO, _take your fingers out of that
+plate!_' was a grace once said in _our_ hearing, but evidently not in that
+of the spoilt boy, 'growing and always hungry,' who could not wait to be
+served. We should prefer to such insensible flippancy the practice of an
+old divine in New-England, who in asking a blessing upon his meals, was
+wont to name each separate dish. Sitting down one day to a dinner, which
+consisted partly of clams, bear-steak, etc., he was forced in a measure to
+forego his usual custom of furnishing a 'bill of particulars.' 'Bless to
+our use,' said he, 'these treasures hid in the sand; bless this----' But
+the bear's-meat puzzled him, and he concluded with: 'Oh! LORD, _thou only
+knowest what it is_!' · · · A FAVORITE correspondent of this Magazine, who
+appears in the pages of the present number for the first time in several
+months, accompanies his excellent paper with a letter, from which we take
+these sentences: 'Since you last heard from me, I have experienced a
+severe domestic affliction in the loss of my father, who died during the
+last summer. Day after day and night after night for two months I sat by
+his bed-side, hoping in vain for his recovery, until life's star was
+extinguished in the darkness of the grave.' Our cordial sympathies are
+with our correspondent; but sympathy for affliction such as his can carry
+with it little of consolation to the bereaved:
+
+ ----'A FRIEND is gone!
+ A FATHER, whose authority, in show
+ When most severe, and must'ring all its force,
+ Was but the graver countenance of love;
+ Whose favor, like the clouds of spring, might lower,
+ And utter now and then an awful voice,
+ But had a blessing in his darkest frown,
+ Threat'ning at once, and nourishing the plant.'
+
+Perchance our friend may now think with COWPER, that 'although he loved,
+yet not _enough_, the gentle hand that reared him.' 'The chief thing that
+I have to reproach myself with,' writes one who laments a kindred
+dispensation of the SUPREME, 'is a sort of inattention to my father's
+feelings, occasionally, arising merely from the disparity of years between
+us, which I am sensible must at times have interfered with his enjoyments.
+I would gladly recall now, if I could, many opportunities I suffered to
+pass, of being more in his company, and more in the way of his advice and
+instruction.' But he adds: 'When I reflect on these things, it appears to
+me one of the strongest natural arguments for the immortality of the soul,
+and the renewal of our earthly relations in a world to come, that even
+where the greatest possible attachment subsists between parents and their
+children, the mere disparity of years inevitably prevents that complete
+association of feelings, and intimate fellowship of heart and soul, which
+is the cement and prerogative of all other friendships: in a world to
+come, but no where else, such attachments must receive their full
+completion.' · · · PROFESSOR GOURAUD, well known among us for his devotion
+to the interests of art and science, has perfected a _System of
+Remembrance_, which he designates by the term '_Mnemotechny_,' and which
+we venture to predict will prove of the greatest service to nearly every
+class of society. No system of modern mnemonics bears any resemblance to,
+or comparison with it. Such is the astonishing effect of the plan, that
+young masters and misses, after a brief study of it, can with ease answer
+_any_ question from score after score of close-printed pages, involving
+every variety of events, and all kinds of information. We 'speak but the
+things which we do _know_,' in this matter, for seeing is believing. As
+the scene of Prof. GOURAUD'S operations is for the present the city, and
+as the daily journals have made his merits widely known to the community,
+we forbear farther comment at this time upon the useful art which he has
+brought to such wonderful perfection. New classes organize, we understand,
+at the Professor's residence, No. 46, Second-street, on the fourth
+instant. They will be filled at once, and speedily followed by others. · ·
+· THERE is an article in the last number of the Edinburgh Review upon
+'_Theatres and the Drama_,' which is replete with wisdom, and evinces a
+thorough mastery of the theme. In alluding to the appeals which are now
+made to the eye by elaborate scenery, machinery, etc., less than to the
+mind and imagination by superior intellectual personation, the reviewer in
+effect remarks, that the first attempt at positive reality is fatal to
+pleasurable illusion. Every person in the pit is aware that the stage _is
+a stage_, 'and all the men and women merely players.' In 'As you Like It,'
+at Drury-Lane, an attempt was made to imitate the notes of birds. 'Suppose
+the imitation had been so close as to deceive the audience into the belief
+that there were birds there singing; would not the contrast with trees of
+painted canvass have been revolting? These were not the conceptions of
+SHAKSPEARE, when he made his chorus say:
+
+ 'CAN this cockpit hold
+ The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
+ Within this wooden O the very casques
+ That did affright the air at Agincourt?
+ O pardon! since a crooked figure may
+ Attest, in little place, a million;
+ And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
+ On your imaginary forces work:
+ Suppose within the girdle of these walls
+ Are now confined two mighty monarchies:
+ Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
+ Into a thousand parts divide one man,
+ And make imaginary puisance.
+ Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
+ Printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth;
+ For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings--
+ Carry them here and there.'
+
+Advice as necessary at the present day as then; for we may enlarge our
+stages, increase our supernumeraries, and engage 'real horses;' but we can
+never make any one believe the stage is other than the stage. The audience
+can realize for themselves. This trust in the all-sufficiency of
+imagination is precisely that acted on by children in their daily sports,
+where from the boundless wealth of the imagination, the rudest materials
+supply the place of the costliest. Whoever watches boys 'playing horse,'
+making a pocket-handkerchief dangling behind to represent the tail, and
+sees them stamping, snorting, prancing, and champing the imaginary bit,
+witnesses the alchymy of the imagination, an alchymy out-stripping all the
+wonders and out-weighing all the treasures of the prosaic positive
+chemistry, so longed for by the present generation. The child 'supposes'
+the handkerchief a tail, and it becomes a tail. He has but to say to his
+companion: 'This shall be a whip and this shall be the harness,' and the
+things are there; not as matters of literal fact, but of imaginative
+truth. He plays for the enjoyment of the game and the exercise of his
+imagination; and therefore the handkerchief serves every purpose. This is
+the procedure of nature. But the modern parent, anxious to realize for the
+child, and to instil a love of accuracy into his mind, gives him a superb
+horse-hair tail, bidding him at the same time be careful not to spoil it.
+What is the result? The child's attention is called from the game, to the
+consideration of or delight in the tail, which, originally meant as a
+collateral aid, now takes the first place. The boy no doubt is delighted
+with his horse-hair tail; but (if it be not altogether superfluous,) it
+will soon destroy his game, so that the exercise, both of frame and
+imagination, is lost; the end becomes subordinate to the means. This is
+precisely what takes place with the drama. Observe also one important
+point: The tail is _real_; accuracy is attempted: but though the tail be
+real, the horse is not; the horse is played by a boy, and only by a boy;
+it is in this mimicry that the enjoyment consists. But how absurd to put a
+real tail on an unreal horse! How revolting this mixture of imagination
+and fact! It is equalled only by that ludicrous practice of placing the
+face of a _real_ watch in the place of a church-clock in a landscape;
+where one may not only see the time of day, but may also hear it _struck_,
+and that amidst painted trees and houses! This effect, except to the most
+literal and prosaic minds, is revolting and discordant. But this the
+modern drama is strenuously endeavoring to produce. 'In opera, ballet, and
+spectacle, scenery and illustrations must be effective, because they form
+elements of the piece. In the drama, where the source of entertainment is
+intellectual, they are merely accessories, and should be used in such wise
+as to keep up the harmony of effect, but never so as to distract attention
+from the drama to themselves.' Here is a passage which is not less
+applicable in America than in England: 'A few years ago it was not
+uncommon to see several performers of rival excellence supported by others
+of ability, all playing in the same piece. It is now a rare thing for
+rivals to play together. A single good actor, among a dozen bad, is deemed
+sufficient. Are we then to wonder that the regular drama does not pay?' ·
+· · OUR readers will remember the order given by the Chinese Emperor to a
+corps of Mandarins, who were to exterminate the 'barbarian Englishers' in
+the harbor of Canton, by going down to the bank of the river in the night,
+and then and there 'dive straight on board those foreign ships, and put
+every soul of them to death!' Subsequently however the red-bristling
+foreigners managed to land, when, as it since turns out, it became
+necessary to adopt more sanguinary measures. The Emperor called up one of
+his 'great generals,' and gave him his dreadful orders: 'You must dress
+your soldiers,' said he, 'in a very frightful manner, painting their faces
+with the most horrid figures, and depicting dragons and monsters on your
+banners: you must then rush upon the barbarians with fearful outcries, and
+terrify them so that they will fall down flat on their faces; and when
+they are once down,' said the Imperial potentate, '_their breeches are so
+tight that they can never get up again_!' · · · 'I give you five minutes
+every day to look at the stars, but don't particularize; for some in those
+far-off places send down their light long after they have been knocked out
+of existence, and you may be looking at a blank.' So wrote 'JULIAN' in
+this department of our last number. Prof. OLMSTEAD, of Yale-College, in a
+recent lecture before the 'Mercantile Library Association,' described the
+difficulty of ascertaining the distance of the stars from each other and
+from our earth; yet, he remarked, it had been done. The nearest star's
+distance from us had been measured, and by the aid of light, by which it
+could alone be accomplished. That distance, he said, was immense,
+requiring ten years for light to traverse it! The planets, he had no
+doubt, were inhabited. Of what use was the reflection of the sun's rays
+upon them, if there were no eyes there to behold it? What was the use of
+moons, which the planets certainly have? He spoke also of the fixed stars,
+which seem by the aid of a telescope to be innumerable. What was their
+purpose?--for a guide to mariners? No; for a very small portion of them
+could be seen by the unassisted eye. They were suns like our suns, to
+worlds like our worlds! To the inhabitants of those fixed stars our sun
+appears as a star, and the planetary system revolving around it, of which
+the earth is one, are unseen by them, as are those of theirs by us! Great
+GOD! 'When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and
+the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is _man_, that thou art mindful
+of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest him!' · · · OUR
+correspondent who writes of '_The Country_,' in preceding pages wields a
+facile pen. His allusion to the choice of _names_ for a country-seat
+reminds us of the pleasant satire of '_Thinks-I-to-myself_' upon this
+theme: 'We lived, you must know,' he writes, 'in a _Hall_; not when I was
+born, however, nor till long afterward. My sister happened to have a
+correspondent at school near London, who finding it essentially necessary
+to the support of her dignity among her school-fellows, always directed
+her letters so; for the parents of one she found, lived at something
+HOUSE; and of another at What's-its-name PLACE; and of another at
+Thingummy _Lodge_; of another at the _Grange_; of another at the _Castle_;
+of another at the _Park_; Miss BLAZE, the daughter of a retired
+tallow-chandler, whose father lived at Candlewick-Castle, was continually
+throwing out hints that not to live at a 'Castle,' or a 'Park,' or a
+'Place,' or a 'House,' or a 'Lodge,' unequivocally bespoke a low origin!'
+Is this folly altogether indigenous to England? Let the high-sounding
+names of scores of painted pine palaces not a thousand miles from this
+metropolis make answer. · · · 'IT don't weigh as much as I expected, and I
+always _thought_ it wouldn't!' We were reminded of this remark of a person
+who desired a certain result, but was at the same time unwilling to
+relinquish his pride of opinion, by the note of our Mississippi
+correspondent, to whose long communication we alluded in our last number.
+We _have_ 'taken its measure,' as we promised, and find it quite beyond
+our compass. · · · OUR friend the _Poetical Englishman_ is somewhat severe
+upon the godly inhabitants of 'BOTOLPH'S TOWN;' yet we see nothing in his
+epistle that is not justified by recent occurrences in the 'Literary
+Emporium.' It is lamentable that Boston should be robbed of a decent
+theatre by an epidemic of pseudo-sanctity. MACREADY was compelled to play
+a recent engagement at a second-rate house, down in the 'Wapping' end of
+the town, whither all the beauty and fashion crowded nightly through the
+mud to see him. It strikes us that the '_Purification Hymn_,' alluded to
+by our correspondent, must have been a choice production of some MAWWORM
+of the day. Its reasoning is highly pellucid, and its dignity is past all
+question. 'Mimic scenes, and mirth and joy,' it would seem, 'allure souls'
+to endless perdition! Now against the licentiousness and drunkenness of
+the theatre too much cannot be said; but for 'mimic scenes' dragging men
+to ----. But _cui bono_? 'Your dull ass will never mend his pace with
+beating.' By the by, we are well pleased to see our English friend's
+preference for mind over matter, in the way of _dramatic_ personations.
+Yet England has little reason to boast. What says 'the VISCOUNT' to the
+Chevalier (d'industrie) PIP? 'What's the good of SHAKSPEARE, PIP? I never
+read him. What the devil is it all about? There's a lot of feet in
+SHAKSPEARE'S verse, but there ain't any legs worth mentioning in
+SHAKSPEARE'S plays, are there, PIP? Juliet, Desdemona, Lady Macbeth, and
+all the rest of 'em, whatever their names are, might as well have no legs
+at all, for any thing the audience know about it. I'll tell you what it
+is; what the people call dramatic poetry is a collection of sermons. Do I
+go to the theatre to be lectured? No; if I wanted that, I'd go to church.
+What's the legitimate drama, PIP? Human nature. What are legs? Human
+nature. Then let us have plenty of leg-pieces, PIP, and I'll stand by you,
+my buck!' This is 'the ticket' in London, as well as in 'BOTOLPH his
+town.' The 'legs have it' there as well as here. Meanwhile the sometime
+gallant Thespian is in a sad plight, from having little to do and little
+pay for it. Admirers fall off, one after another, under such
+circumstances; and even the gentle sex forget their old enthusiasm:
+
+ 'Oh! once again we met, but no bandit-chief was there;
+ His rouge was off, and gone that head of once luxuriant hair:
+ He lodges in a two-pair back, and at the tavern near
+ He cannot liquidate his 'chalk' nor wipe away his beer.
+ I saw him sad and seedy, yet methinks I see him now,
+ In the tableau of the last act, with the blood upon his brow.'
+
+And thus he goes on, following his 'occupation' in one sense, and
+gradually sinking lower and lower; until at length:
+
+ 'ALAS! poor rat!
+ He has no cravat;
+ A seedy coat, and a hole in that!
+ No sole to his shoe, no brim to his hat;
+ Not a change of linen, except his skin:
+ No gloves, no vest,
+ Either second or best;
+ And what is worse than all the rest,
+ No light heart, though his breeches are thin!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IS not the following illustration of '_The Affections_,' by Rev. GEO. B.
+CHEEVER, 'beautiful exceedingly?' 'On a bright day in summer, while the
+west wind breathes gently, you stand before a forest of maples, or you are
+attracted by a beautiful tree in the open field, that seems a dense clump
+of foliage. You cannot but notice how easily the wind moves it, how
+quietly, how gracefully, how lovingly, the whole body of it. It is simply
+because it is covered with foliage. The same wind rustling through its dry
+branches in winter, would scarce bend a bough, or only to break it. But
+now, softly whispering through ten thousand leaves, how gently the whole
+tree yields to the impression! So it is with the affections, the feelings.
+They are the foliage of our being, moved by the spirit of GOD.' · · · THE
+annual _Festival of Saint Nicholas_, beloved of all good KNICKERBOCKERS,
+was celebrated on the sixth ultimo at the City Hotel, by a crowded
+assemblage of the members of the Society, and their invited guests. The
+new President was invested with the orange-badge and venerable cocked-hat
+of his 'illustrious predecessor,' and new subordinate officers were
+installed into their several stations; after which ceremony a sumptuous
+repast, served in the well-known style of Messrs. JENNINGS AND WILLARD,
+was discussed with universal _goût_. For the toasts regular and volunteer,
+and speeches voluntary and involuntary, we must refer the reader to the
+daily journals 'of that period;' while we simply add, that from soup to
+Paäs eggs, _schnaaps_, and pipes, every thing passed off with unwonted
+hilarity and spirit. May we live to see fifty kindred gatherings of the
+votaries of our patron saint! · · · 'YOU don't like smokin', 'taint
+likely?' asked a lank free-and-easy Yankee, as he entered a room where
+four or five young ladies were sewing, puffing a dank 'long-nine.' 'Well,
+_we do not_,' was the immediate reply. 'Umph!' replied the smoker,
+removing his cigar long enough to spit, '_a good many people don't!_'--and
+he kept on smoking. We know of _one_ reader of the KNICKERBOCKER, a
+thousand miles from the hand that jots down this anecdote, who will enjoy
+it hugely; and indeed it is mainly for him that we record it. · · · THIS
+is _Thanksgiving Evening_ in the Empire State; and as there is a
+fair-haired, hazle-eyed little boy pulling at our 'sword-arm,' (too
+fatigued with writing to offer any resistance) suppose we read to you,
+while he sits 'throned on his father's knee,' this timely and admirable
+passage from the pen of CHARLES HOOVER, Esq., of New-Jersey, a fine
+scholar, and a writer of as pure Saxon English as the best among us:
+
+ 'THERE is much in the aspect of Divine Providence at the present
+ time, both toward our own country and the world, to awaken
+ gratitude and thoughtful joy. An unexampled spectacle is
+ presented in the current history of the world. It is moving on
+ almost without a ripple. The changes of time are taking place as
+ noiselessly as the ordinary changes of nature. The decay of old
+ and injurious social and political systems is going on like the
+ crumbling of ruins in a desert, by the force of inherent
+ tendency rather than by external violence; and milder and more
+ benignant systems are appearing, not like those islands sprung
+ by volcanic shocks above the bosom of the deep, but like the
+ beauty of spring, or the glory of summer, by a natural and
+ imperceptible growth. Within the memory of many yet living there
+ was a very different state of things. Scarcely a month then
+ passed without a shock, a press and medley in human affairs that
+ amazed and bewildered men, and kept anxiety on the stretch. Such
+ was the history of Europe. Every change was a concussion; every
+ fear a storm; every revolution a convulsion. Not less in motion
+ is society now, but it is like the motion of the spheres, grand
+ and silent; and that silence is the emblem and the evidence of
+ greatness and power in the present movement of Providence in
+ human affairs. The once apparently random and divergent lines of
+ that Providence now seem to be flowing to a common point, and
+ terminating in one great result--the improvement and happiness
+ of our race. Abating much of what has been extravagantly vaunted
+ about the march of mind and the perfectibility of human society,
+ it is still visibly true that the general condition of the world
+ is improved and improving. Vast accessions have been made to
+ science; knowledge has been diffused over a wider surface, than
+ was ever before known; ignorance is felt to be a calamity if not
+ a crime; truths that were formerly contemplated only in the
+ closet of the sage, have become familiarized in the cottage and
+ the common mind; the rights of men are better defined and
+ understood; the power of rulers is swayed within juster limits,
+ and is every where abandoning its old apparatus of racks and
+ halters and dungeons as the means of governing immortal mind,
+ and is silently conceding to it its alienable prerogative of
+ free thought.'
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WE have little to chronicle of _The Drama_ proper this month. _Music_,
+vocal and instrumental, has kept this branch of the fine arts somewhat in
+the back-ground. We have had the pleasure to see Mr. MACREADY once only at
+the Park, on which occasion he personated the character of MELANTIUS in
+'_The Bridal_' with transcendent power. We have seen this fine actor in no
+part, if we except perhaps that of Werner, in which his genius shone so
+conspicuous. He was admirably supported by the scarcely subordinate
+characters represented by WHEATLY, RIDER, Miss CUSHMAN, and Mrs. H. HUNT.
+Mr. WHEATLY has evidently much of 'the heavy business' at the Park upon
+his broad shoulders, for he appears in two or three pieces almost every
+night. On the occasion alluded to, no sooner had the curtain risen after
+'The Bridal,' than we found him making Stentorian love ('in a horn') to
+the 'Dumb Belle' of the evening, in which he excited shouts of uproarious
+laughter. At the BOWERY THEATRE, as well as at the CHATHAM, '_The
+Mysteries of Paris_' has run a most successful career. The OLYMPIC has
+been crowded nightly by the mingled attractions of opera and travestie;
+while the BOWERY AMPHITHEATRE and ROCKWELL'S Circus at NIBLO'S, have
+shared abundantly in the favor bestowed now-a-days upon popular
+entertainments. · · · 'DRESS always and _act_ to please your partner for
+life, as you were fain to do before the nuptial-knot was tied.' This is an
+old maxim, and here is 'a commentator upon it.' A newly-married lady is
+suddenly surprised by a visit from a newly-married man, when she
+straightway begins to apologize: 'She is horribly chagrined, and out of
+countenance, to be caught in such a dishabille; she did not mind how her
+clothes were huddled on, not expecting any company, there being nobody at
+home but her husband!' The husband meanwhile shakes the visitor's hand,
+and says: 'I am heartily glad to see you, JACK: I don't know how it was, I
+was almost asleep; for as there was nobody at home but my wife, I did not
+know what to do with myself!' · · · THE beautiful lines by Mrs. M. T. W.
+CHANDLER, elsewhere in the present number, illustrate, or are illustrated
+by the following passage from WARREN HASTING'S eloquent reflections upon
+the changes to which the SOUL is destined hereafter: 'When the hour is at
+hand which is to dissolve the mortal tie, the soul parts without regret
+with those delights which it received from its sensual gratifications, and
+dwells only, dwells with a fond affection, on the partner or pledges of
+its love; or on friends from whom it seems to be cut off for ever; and if
+it looks, as it must look, to futurity, these are the first objects of its
+wishes connected with it, and the first ingredients in its conceptions of
+celestial felicity. For my own part (and on a subject like this, where can
+we so properly appeal as to ourselves?) although my reason dictates to me
+the hope of a future happiness, whatever may be the mode of it, yet my
+heart feels no interest in the prospect when viewed as a scene of
+solitary, selfish enjoyment. It recoils with horror at the thought of
+losing the remembrance of every past connexion, and even of those whom it
+loved most dearly, and of being forgotten by them utterly and for ever. Is
+this too, it asks, one of the delusions of life? No; for all its other
+passions expire before it; but this remains, like hope, 'nor leaves us
+when we die.'' · · · THE '_Anglo-American_' literary journal has just
+issued to its subscribers one of the finest counterfeit presentments of
+WASHINGTON that we have ever seen. It is a print almost the size of a
+full-length cabinet portrait in oil, engraved in a masterly manner by
+HALPIN after GILBERT STUART'S celebrated picture. If this superior
+engraving is a sample of what the patrons of the 'Anglo-American' are
+hereafter to expect from its publishers, it is easy to foresee that that
+spirited journal has entered upon a long career of popularity. · · · 'T.'S
+'_Stanzas_' await his order at the publication-office. They are far from
+lacking merit, but are in parts artificial and labored. Lines eked out
+with accented letters, in which
+
+ ----'all the syllables that end in éd,
+ Like old dragoons, have cuts across the head,'
+
+always seem to us to come rather from the head than the heart. We shall
+expect, nevertheless, to hear from our friend again, according to promise.
+· · · WE 'stop the press' to announce that Mr. PUNCH has just dropped in
+from England, bringing the latest intelligence from 'the other side.' He
+has lately visited several places on the continent, not so much to see
+them as to be enabled to say, like other English travellers, that he _had
+been there_. 'Mr. PUNCH, having arrived at Rouen late at night, left it
+very early the next morning, much impressed with the institutions of the
+city, both civil and architectural, as well as its manners, customs, and
+social life, which he is about to embody in a work called '_Six hours and
+a half at Rouen_,' to be brought out by a fashionable publisher.' From the
+reports of one of the learned societies, we derive the following important
+scientific information: 'Mr. SAPPY read a paper, proving the impossibility
+of being able to see into the middle of next week, from known facts with
+regard to the equation of time. He stated that, supposing it possible for
+a person to ascend in a balloon sufficiently high for his vision to
+embrace a distance of seven hundred miles from east to west, he would then
+only see forty minutes ahead of him; that is, he would see places where
+the day was forty minutes in advance of the day in which he lived. Thus he
+might be said to see forty minutes into futurity. It has also been proved
+that, in sailing round the world in one direction, a day's reckoning is
+gained; so that the sailor on his return finds himself to be 'a man in
+advance of his age' by one day. This one day, however, is the farthest
+attainable limit; and it is therefore impossible to see into the middle of
+next Week!' 'Mr. TITE, proprietor of the 'Metropolitan Bakedtatery'
+brought forward his new 'Low Pressure Potatoe-Can,' upon an improved
+principle. It was constructed of tin, and warranted to sustain a pressure
+of twenty potatoes upon the square bottom. Mr. TITE explained that the
+steam had nothing to do with the warmth of the fruit, but was quite
+independent of it.' 'Mr. FLIT brought forward his new and improved Street
+Telescope for looking at the moon. It was most ingeniously constructed,
+being to the eye a fine instrument of six feet long. Mr. FLIT explained,
+however, that the telescope itself was only an eighteen-inch one, the case
+being manufactured to increase its importance, in which the real glass was
+enclosed. The chief merit of this invention was, that the moon could be
+seen equally well on cloudy nights, or when there was none at all, the
+case enclosing an ingenious transparency of that body, behind which a
+small lamp was hung. Mr. FLIT could always command a view of any of the
+celestial bodies by the same means.' Here are a few items of law from
+'_The Comic Blackstone_:' 'The statute of EDWARD the Fourth, prohibiting
+any but lords from wearing pikes on their shoes of more than two inches
+long, was considered to savor of oppression; but those who were in the
+habit of receiving from a lord more kicks than coppers, would consider
+that the law savored of benevolence.' 'Unlawfully detaining a man in any
+way is imprisonment; so that if you take your neighbor by the button, and
+cause him to listen to a long story, you are guilty of imprisonment.'
+PUNCH'S idea of '_Woman's Mission_' differs somewhat from other reformers
+of the times: 'To replace the shirt-button of the father, the brother, the
+husband, which has come off in putting on the vestment; to bid the
+variegated texture of the morning slipper or the waistcoat grow upon the
+Berlin wool; to repair the breach that incautious haste in dressing has
+created in the coat or the trowsers, which there is no time to send out to
+be mended; are the special offices of woman; offices for which her digital
+mechanism has singularly fitted her.' Apropos of '_Missions_:' we perceive
+that DICKENS understands this vague verbal apology for eccentricity or
+humbugeousness, if we interpret aright his frail and tearful MODDLE; 'who
+talked much about people's 'missions,' upon which he seemed to have some
+private information not generally attainable,' and who, 'being aware that
+a shepherd's mission was to pipe to his flock, and that a boatswain's
+mission was to pipe all hands, and that one man's mission was to be a paid
+piper, and another man's mission was to pay the piper, had got it into his
+head that his own peculiar mission was to pipe his eye, which he did
+perpetually.' · · · A CURIOUS volume has recently appeared in Paris,
+entitled '_Poésies Populaires Latines antérieures au Douzième Siècle_;'
+and as sequels to the work, are certain satires upon the avarice and
+corruption of the papal government in the twelfth century, among which is
+the following curious parody:
+
+
+ '_Here beginneth the Gospel according to Marks of silver._--In
+ that time the pope said to the Romans: When the son of man
+ cometh to the seat of our majesty, say ye first, Friend, what
+ seekest thou? But if he continue knocking, and give you nothing,
+ cast him out into utter darkness. And it came to pass that a
+ certain poor clerk came to the court of our lord the pope, and
+ cried out, saying, Have pity on me at least you, O gate-keepers
+ of the pope, for the hand of poverty hath touched me. Verily I
+ am needy and poor; therefore, I pray ye, relieve my calamity and
+ my wretchedness. But they, when they heard him, were very wroth,
+ and said, Friend, thy poverty be with thee to perdition! get
+ behind me, Sathanas, for thou art not wise in the wisdom of
+ money. Verily, verily I say unto thee, thou shalt not enter into
+ the joy of thy lord until thou hast given thy last farthing. And
+ the poor man departed, and sold his cloak and his coat and all
+ that he had, and gave it to the cardinals and to the
+ gate-keepers; and they said, What is this among so many? And
+ they cast him out before the doors; and he went out, and wept
+ bitterly, and might not be comforted. Then there came to the
+ court a certain rich clerk, great and fat and swollen, who in a
+ riot had slain a man. He gave first to the gate-keeper, secondly
+ to the chamberlain, thirdly to the cardinals; but they thought
+ among themselves that they should have received more. And when
+ our lord the pope heard that the cardinals and ministers had
+ received many gifts of the clerk, he became sick unto death. But
+ the rich man sent him a medicine of gold and silver, and
+ immediately he was cured. Then our lord the pope called to him
+ the cardinals and ministers, and said to them, Brethren, see
+ that no one seduce you with empty words; for I give you an
+ example, that as I myself receive, so receive ye.'
+
+The corruptions of this era are equally well illustrated by a very amusing
+anecdote of 'a handsome Italian friar, _teres atque rotundus_, about
+thirty, and extremely bold and eloquent;' doubtless one of that class so
+felicitously limned by THOMSON:
+
+ 'A little round, fat, oily man of GOD
+ Was one I chiefly marked among the fry;
+ He had a roguish twinkle in his eye
+ And shone all glittering with ungodly dew,
+ If a tight damsel chanced to trippen by;
+ Which when observed he shrunk into his mew,
+ And straight would recollect his piety anew.'
+
+One day at a remote confessional of the church he declared an unholy and
+forbidden passion to a young and beautiful married lady, whom he had long
+'followed with his eyes,' and begged permission to visit her at her
+residence. Struck with surprise at this new revelation of his character,
+she evaded reply, being secretly minded to inform her husband, when she
+returned home, which she did, word for word. He told his wife to contrive
+to let the friar come, alone and in secret, the next evening, which
+chanced to be that of Saturday, and the night before the Sunday of Saint
+Lazarus, on which occasion the friar was to preach. The appointment was
+made; the friar came, true to the late hour which had been designated; was
+received at the door, and shown into the lady's bed-room by a servant, who
+informed him that she had desired him to request the good man to retire to
+rest, and to say that 'she would be with him straight.' The friar prepared
+to comply with the direction, and was about stepping into bed, when the
+door opened suddenly, and the lady entered in great apparent trepidation,
+exclaiming: 'My husband is knocking at the door! For heaven's sake slip
+into that chest,' showing him a double one in the apartment, 'and lie
+there until I see what may be done! Meanwhile I will hide your clothes
+somewhere or other, as well as I am able. Heaven knows I fear more for
+your holy person than I do for my own life!' The unfortunate wretch,
+seeing himself reduced to such a pass, did as the worthy lady desired;
+while the husband, presently coming in, retired to rest with his wife, who
+had first locked the friar safe in the chest. The poor prisoner uttered
+sundry involuntary noises in the course of the night, and was in the
+direst terror at the inquiries which they awakened on the part of the
+husband. Daylight at length came, and the church-bells began to ring for
+prayers, which greatly annoyed the captive, who was to preach at the
+cathedral. The husband having risen, ordered two servants to carry the
+chest to the church and place it in the middle, saying they were ordered
+to do so by the preacher; and that unlocking the chest without raising the
+lid, they should leave it there; all which the fellows did very neatly.
+Every body stared, and wondered what all this could mean; some said one
+thing and some another. At last the bell having ceased to ring, and no one
+appearing in the pulpit, or any other part of the church, a young man rose
+and said: 'Really, the good friar makes us wait quite too long; pray let
+us see what he has ordered to be brought in this chest.' Having said this
+much, he before all the congregation lifted up the lid, and looking in,
+beheld the friar in his shirt, pale, almost frightened to death, and
+certainly appearing more dead than alive, and as if buried in the chest.
+Finding himself discovered, however, he collected his mind as well as he
+could, and stood upright, to the great astonishment of all present; and
+having taken his text from the Sunday of Lazarus, he thus addressed his
+congregation: 'My dear brethren: I am not at all astonished at your
+surprise in seeing me brought before you in this chest, or rather at my
+ordering myself to be brought thus: ye know that this is the way in which
+our holy church commemorates the wonderful miracle our LORD performed on
+the person of LAZARUS, in raising him from the dead who had been buried
+four days. I was desirous in your favor to present myself to you as it
+were in the form of LAZARUS, in order that seeing me in this chest, which
+is no other than an emblem of the sepulchre wherein he had been buried,
+you might be moved more effectually to the consideration of what
+perishable things we are; and that seeing me stripped of all worldly
+decorations, thus in my shirt, you may be convinced of the vanity of the
+things of this world, the which, if only duly considered, may tend greatly
+to the amending of our lives. Will you believe that since yesterday night
+I have been a thousand times dead, and revived as LAZARUS was; and
+considering my dreadful situation, remember (as it were with the memory of
+a similar penance in your hearts) that we must all die, and trust to HIM
+who can bestow upon us life eternal: but first ye must die to sin, to
+avarice, to rapine, to lust, and all those sinful deeds to which our
+nature prompts us.' In such language, and in such manner, did the friar
+continue his sermon. The husband, astonished at the extraordinary presence
+of mind which he displayed, laughed heartily at his success; and in
+consideration of the adroitness of the culprit, did not attempt any
+farther revenge; 'but,' it is added, 'he took very good care to shut his
+door in future against all such double-faced hypocrites.' · · · READER,
+what are you thinking of at this moment? 'Nothing.' Indeed! and so were
+we, and of how much a clever man once said upon the subject; observe:
+'Philosophers have declared they knew nothing, and it is common for us to
+talk about doing nothing; for from ten to twenty we go to school to be
+taught what from twenty to thirty we are very apt to forget; from thirty
+to forty we begin to settle; from forty to fifty, we think away as fast as
+we can; from fifty to sixty, we are very careful in our accounts; and from
+sixty to seventy, we cast up what all our thinking comes to; and then,
+what between our losses and our gains, our enjoyments and our inquietudes,
+even with the addition of old age, we can but strike a balance of
+ciphers.' Happy are they who amidst the variations of nothing have nothing
+to fear; if they have nothing to lose, they have nothing to lament; and if
+they have done nothing to be ashamed of, they have every thing to hope
+for. · · · SENTENTIOUSNESS, let us inform 'S.' of Cambridge, and
+antitheses, do not consist of short sentences and inversion of words
+_merely_; and even the most felicitous examples in each case often
+sacrifice the sound to the sense. Here is an instance which is
+unobjectionable: 'I knew the old miser well. He amassed a fortune by
+raising hemp; and if he had had his deserts, would have died as he lived
+by it.' · · · JUST as the sheets of this department were passing to the
+press, we received the announcement of a public exhibition of two
+collections of pictures, which we have seen, and to which we cannot resist
+the impulse of directing the public attention. At the rooms of the
+National Academy, corner of Broadway and Leonard-street, may be seen Mr.
+COLE'S allegorical pictures of 'The Voyage of Life,' heretofore noticed at
+length in these pages; '_Mount Ætna, from Taormina, Sicily_,' one of the
+most noble paintings that ever came from this eminent artist's pencil;
+'Angels ministering to Christ in the Wilderness;' 'The Past and the
+Present;' 'A View of Ruined Aqueducts in the Campagna di Roma,' and other
+pictures; altogether, an exceedingly fine collection. Indeed, the superb
+view of Ætna alone, with its vast and sublime accessories, is of itself an
+exhibition worth twice the price of admission. At the rooms of the APOLLO
+ASSOCIATION, nearly opposite the Hospital, in Broadway, Mr. HARVEY'S
+series of _Forty Historic or Atmospheric American Landscape Scenes_ are to
+be seen for a short time. It needed not the high patronage of Queen
+VICTORIA, the praises of English royalty and nobility, nor the warm
+encomiums of ALLSTON, SULLY, MOORE, and others, to secure attention to
+these graphic sketches from nature. They are their own best
+recommendation. Trust our verdict, reader, and go and _see_ if they are
+not. · · · 'TERPSICHORE' is the title of a very spirited satirical poem
+read at the annual dinner of the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Cambridge
+University in August last, by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, and copied in
+'_Graham's Magazine_' for January. We subjoin a passage which although
+abundantly poetical contains yet more truth than poetry. It 'bases' upon
+the DICKENS dinner:
+
+ HE for whose sake the glittering show appears
+ Has sown the world with laughter and with tears,
+ And they whose welcome wets the bumper's brim
+ Have wit and wisdom--for they all quote him.
+ So, many a tongue the evening hour prolongs
+ With spangled speeches, let alone the songs;
+ Statesmen grow merry, young attorneys laugh,
+ And weak teetotals warm to half-and-half,
+ And beardless Tullys, new to festive scenes,
+ Cut their first crop of youth's precocious greens;
+ And wits stand ready for impromptu claps,
+ With loaded barrels and percussion-caps;
+ And Pathos, cantering through the minor keys,
+ Waves all her onions to the trembling breeze;
+ While the great Feasted views with silent glee
+ His scattered limbs in Yankee fricassee.
+
+ Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays
+ The pleasing game of interchanging praise;
+ Self-love, grimalkin of the human heart,
+ Is ever pliant to the master's art;
+ Soothed with a word, she peacefully withdraws
+ And sheaths in velvet her obnoxious claws,
+ And thrills the hand that smooths her glossy fur
+ With the light tremor of her gentle pur.
+
+ But what sad music fills the quiet hall
+ If on her back a feline rival fall!
+ And oh! what noises shake the tranquil house,
+ If old SELF-INTEREST cheats her of a mouse!
+
+ Thou, O my country! hast thy foolish ways,
+ Too apt to pur at every stranger's praise:
+ But if the stranger touch thy modes or laws,
+ Off goes the velvet and out come the claws!
+
+ And thou, Illustrious! but too poorly paid
+ In toasts from Pickwick for thy great crusade,
+ Though while the echoes labored with thy name
+ The public trap denied thy little game,
+ Let other lips our jealous laws revile--
+ The marble TALFOURD or the rude CARLYLE;
+ But on thy lids, that Heaven forbids to close
+ Where'er the light of kindly nature glows,
+ Let not the dollars that a churl denies
+ Weigh like the shillings on a dead man's eyes!
+ Or, if thou wilt, be more discreetly blind,
+ Nor ask to see all wide extremes combined;
+ Not in our wastes the dainty blossoms smile
+ That crowd the gardens of thy scanty isle;
+ There white-cheek'd Luxury weaves a thousand charms,
+ Here sun-browned Labor swings his Cyclop arms;
+ Long are the furrows he must trace between
+ The ocean's azure and the prairies' green;
+ Full many a blank his destined realm displays,
+ Yet see the promise of his riper days:
+ Far through yon depths the panting engine moves,
+ His chariots ringing in their steel-shod groves,
+ And Erie's naiad flings her diamond wave
+ O'er the wild sea-nymph in her distant cave:
+ While tasks like these employ his anxious hours,
+ What if his corn-fields are not edged with flowers?
+ Though bright as silver the meridian beams
+ Shine through the crystal of thine English streams,
+ Turbid and dark the mighty wave is whirled
+ That drains our Andes and divides a world.
+
+Under the similitude of a _German-silver-spoon_, 'used by dabblers in
+æsthetic tea,' we have the annexed palpable hit at the small-beer
+imitators of CARLYLE, and copyists after the external garb of the German
+school, who have occasionally shown themselves up in the pages of 'The
+Dial,' a work which formerly 'indicated rather the place of the moon than
+the sun:'
+
+ SMALL as it is, its powers are passing strange;
+ For all who use it show a wondrous change,
+ And first, a fact to make the barbers stare,
+ It beats Macassar for the growth of hair:
+ See those small youngsters whose expansive ears
+ Maternal kindness grazed with frequent shears;
+ Each bristling crop a dangling mass becomes,
+ And all the spoonies turn to Absaloms!
+ Nor this alone its magic power displays--
+ It alters strangely all their works and ways;
+ With uncouth words they tire their tender lungs,
+ The same bald phrases on their hundred tongues;
+ 'Ever' 'The Ages' in their page appear,
+ 'Alway' the bedlamite is called a 'Seer;'
+ On every leaf the 'earnest' sage may scan,
+ Portentious bore! their 'many-sided' man;
+ A weak eclectic, groping, vague and dim,
+ Whose every angle is a half-starved whim,
+ Blind as a mole and curious as a lynx,
+ Who rides a beetle which he calls a 'Sphinx.'
+
+ And O what questions asked in club-foot rhyme
+ Of Earth the tongueless and the deaf-mute Time!
+ Here babbling 'Insight' shouts in Nature's ears
+ His last conundrum on the orbs and spheres;
+ There Self-inspection sucks its little thumb,
+ With 'Whence am I?' and 'Wherefore did I come?'
+ Deluded infants! will they ever know
+ Some doubts must darken o'er the world below,
+ Though all the Platos of the nursery trail
+ Their 'clouds of glory' at the go-cart's tail?
+
+We should exceedingly like to hear Mr. A. BRONSON ALCOTT'S opinion as
+touching the _faithfulness_ of the foregoing. · · · THERE is a fearful
+lesson conveyed in the annexed communication from a metropolitan
+physician, who assures us that it is in all respects an accurate statement
+of an occurrence to which he was an eye-witness: 'Duty impels me, Mr.
+EDITOR, to lay before you one of the little incidents which my situation
+as a medical man has brought to my notice. There is no class of men who
+are led with keener perceptions to investigate human nature than
+enlightened practising physicians. They have a hold upon the affections
+and confidence of every class of society; and for this reason they should
+feel it incumbent upon themselves to act the part of _moral_ as well as
+_physical_ agents. For myself, I think it would be well if medical men
+were so far constituted missionaries, as to make it a duty to point a
+moral whenever it would be likely to be well received. I am aware that
+attempts of this sort with many persons would be vain or injudicious, and
+sometimes nauseate perhaps, like the accompanying drugs; but eventually it
+might prove salutary to the soul; and although cursed for good advice, is
+it not in the end a blessing? But to my story: I was called a short time
+since to a youth about twenty years of age: he had been only a few months
+in the city, and I had occasionally seen him, but had little acquaintance
+with him, being much his senior. When I entered, one of his fits of
+raving, occasioned by fever, was just coming on. I approached and took his
+hand: 'What do you want?' said he; 'you look so mild and yet so
+penetrating. I have not got any.' 'Any _what_?' said I. 'Any money,' he
+replied; 'the drawer was locked, and I could not get any without being
+seen; so go away!' 'I came to cure you, not to take your money,' I
+replied. 'Ah!' said he, 'did I not take some from you? Look! look! There
+they come! sixpences, shillings! See! see! how they tumble from the wall!
+Look! there is a piece of gold! See! look! there they keep coming! I
+never took all this!--at first I only took enough to get a cigar with, now
+and then. See! the room is filling! I shall suffocate!' 'What does this
+mean, young man?' said I; 'be calm.' 'Did they not tell you to _come and
+feel my pulse and see if there was not a sixpence in it_?' 'No, no; I came
+to make you better.' 'Better? _better_? BETTER? Here, hide these; don't
+let my friends know of them; they were stolen! I cannot look at them now.
+Ha! ha! ha!--I cannot!' I was induced to remain until the frenzy of the
+fever had passed off, and found the young man had intervals of reason. He
+was now in deep despondency. I inquired his name. He had dropped it, he
+said; he could not debase it. 'Debase it?' said I. 'Yes!' he answered,
+with a groan like a howl. The next day the young man sent for me again. He
+appeared much altered; said that he did not wish to live; that he had '_a
+gnawing at his soul_.' I remarked that he was very young to be tired of
+life; that if he had been guilty of any crime he should desire to live to
+expiate it. 'No,' he replied, 'the stain will always last!' I told him,
+not so; that if he heartily repented and turned to the right source for
+consolation, it would be vouchsafed him. 'I feel that I cannot live,' he
+replied, 'and my friends will be better satisfied to know that I am
+repentant in my last moments, and that I am gone, than they would be to
+think of me as a vagabond, let loose upon society: they will at least feel
+that I shall 'cease from troubling.' I have not the excuse that many
+delinquents have pleaded, early initiation into vice. My childhood was
+passed with pious relatives, who labored to instil religious principles
+into my mind; but I 'would none of their reproof.' My friends not being
+wealthy, I was left at a proper age to my own resources. I found a
+situation where my talents were appreciated by my employer, and perhaps
+too highly estimated by myself. I had a brother who was ten years my
+senior, whom I loved and esteemed--may Heaven keep him in blessed
+ignorance of my fate!--but I thought less highly of his intellect when I
+saw him excited by some sublime hymn, which angels might listen to, than I
+did of my own, when I turned from the devotions of the Sabbath to join my
+idle companions. In the situation I held, I might have gained
+respectability; but my besetting sin betrayed me so often, that the kind
+indulgence of a good master could no longer conceal my crimes. I now see
+that the sting inflicted by vice must and _will_ remain! We may repent, we
+may be forgiven; but the mind will not part with its bitter
+recollections!' I was here called away for a few moments, and when I
+returned, the unhappy young man was in the land of spirits! I learned that
+he was engaged to a highly amiable young lady, who relinquished him, and
+shortly afterward died of a broken heart. _Her_ sad fate threw him into a
+brain-fever, and as you perceive, decided _his_ likewise. Incidents like
+these I am aware have often been narrated; yet if the tragedy which I have
+depicted should be blessed to the use of any young man abandoned to
+temptation and addicted to small crimes, and lead him to reflection, it
+will be a gratification to feel that my feeble effort, with Heaven's help,
+has proved 'a word in season.'' · · · THERE are inequalities of merit in
+the '_Dirge_' of 'D. D.' of Hartford, though the _spirit_ of the verse is
+tender and touching. We annex a few stanzas, in illustration of our
+encomium:
+
+ THRUST him in his narrow bed,
+ Heap the cold earth on his head,
+ But be sure no tear ye shed--
+ Not a tear for him!
+
+ Bitter toil was his from birth,
+ Dearly bought his homely mirth,
+ While his master was of earth--
+ Now he's of the sky.
+
+ Death knocked at his door at night,
+ With his crushing hand of might,
+ Woke him to that morning light
+ Which can know no noon!
+
+ When that sacred morning beam
+ Wakes his spirit, life shall seem
+ But a dreary changeful dream--
+ Soon o'er, and not too soon!
+
+ Patiently for few long years,
+ Struggling with earth's giant fears,
+ With hands too busy to wipe tears,
+ Met he life's long shock.
+
+ Yet not all blank and desolate
+ Was this poor man's earthly state;
+ Hope, toil, content, can soften fate,
+ As the moss the rock.
+
+ O! lost Brother! still and cold,
+ Sunk like rain into the mould,
+ Silently, unseen, untold--
+ Thou 'rt a GOD-sown seed!
+
+
+It is a sad sight to look upon the corpse of a laborer, cut down in the
+midst of a toilsome life; his hard, knotty hands clasped upon the still
+breast, and the strong limbs laid in serene repose. And yet how happy the
+change! No longer does he ask leave to toil; no longer is he at war with
+poverty, for death has made it a drawn battle. He 'rests from his labors'
+where the rich and the poor meet together, and he hears no more the voice
+of the oppressor. · · · PERHAPS our readers will have observed that the
+_Sketches of East Florida_ are from no common pen. The description which
+has been given by the writer, of the delicious climate in that sunny
+region, may to many 'Northeners' seem exaggerated; but such is not the
+fact. A friend writing recently from St. Augustine, thus playfully alludes
+to the effect which the climate produces upon a New-Yorker: 'If a
+business-man could be caught up from the whirl of Broadway, and dropped in
+a warm climate, say that of St. Augustine, and left under a fig-tree to
+his own reflections, his first thought doubtless would be for an omnibus
+'right up.' 'Rather queer!' he would say; 'a hot sun, sandy street, and
+not a carriage to be seen! There's a man out in his slippers, and a woman
+with her head tied up in a handkerchief--may-be a night-cap; probably some
+old Dutch settlers that went to-sleep with RIP VAN WINKLE. Wild turkeys,
+as I live, all about the market!--and oh, LORD! there's a little nigger
+with only a shirt on! Halloo there! you little nigger! tell me the way to
+the Broadway coaches! No coaches? no omnibii? Well, where's your
+five-o'clock boats?--where's your Harlaem rail-road? I want to go back to
+town!' Such would probably be his first go-off; and the next impulse would
+be to run, shout, cry fire! or murder!--any thing to produce a sensation;
+but unless very soon about it, he would find himself yielding to some
+strange influence hitherto unfelt; and it would be amusing to notice how
+soon the fretting restless man of the forty-second latitude would be tamed
+down in the thirteenth to the equanimity of a child asleep. The climate
+enters within the man, and brings out one by one some hidden and better
+impulse, at the same time laying a gentle hand upon his rougher humors; so
+that when he would shout, he hums, and when he would laugh, he smiles
+only; and in undertaking to run, he is caught about the waist; and goes
+floating smoothly around in the ground-swell motion of the Spanish-dance.'
+· · · WE perceive that the _Copy-right Question_ has been thus early
+brought before the National Legislature. From the present aspect of things
+we may indulge a well-grounded hope that authors who have worn themselves
+out in making other people happy, will not hereafter be left to perish
+amidst age and infirmity, unrelieved by the fruit of their labors. There
+is one argument exceedingly well illustrated in the recent address of the
+'Copy-right Club.' In allusion to the floods of trash which have for
+months inundated the Atlantic cities and towns, the writer, addressing
+himself to American citizens, observes: 'In all other circumstances and
+questions save that of a literature, you have taken the high ground of
+freedom and self-reliance. You have neither asked, nor loaned, nor
+besought, but with your own hands have framed, what the occasion required.
+Whatever stature you have grown to as a nation, it is due to that sole
+virtue; and by its exercise may you only hope to hold your place. In
+almost any other shape than that of silent books you would have spurned
+the foreign and held fast to the home-born; but stealing in quietly at
+every opening, making themselves the seemingly inoffensive and unobtrusive
+lodgers in every house, they have full possession of the country in all
+its parts; and another people may promise themselves in the next
+generation of Americans, (as the question now goes,) a restored dominion
+which their arms were not able to keep. The pamphlet will carry the day
+where the soldier fell back.' · · · WE derive the annexed stanzas through
+a Boston correspondent. He assures us that the work of art which they
+commemorate is most honorable to the genius of the sculptor, who has been
+winning laurels ever since his removal to the tasteful city:
+
+
+LINES
+
+WRITTEN ON COMPLETING A MARBLE BUST OF THE LATE WASHINGTON ALLSTON.
+
+BY M. A. BRACKETT.
+
+ UPWARD unto the living light
+ Intensely thou dost gaze,
+ As if thy very soul wouldst seek
+ In that far distant maze
+
+ Communion with those heavenly forms
+ That lifting to the sight
+ Their golden wings and snowy robes,
+ Float on a sea of light.
+
+ Anon far, far away they glide,
+ Shooting through realms of bliss,
+ Till from the spirit's eye they fade
+ In heaven's own bright abyss.
+
+ Such are the visions thou dost wake,
+ Such are the thoughts that rise
+ In him who 'neath thy upturned brow
+ Beholds thy spirit-eyes.
+
+ There is no stain upon that brow;
+ Pure as thy holy life
+ Serene and calm, thy heavenly face--
+ Within, no wasting strife.
+
+ How strangely have the swift hours flown
+ As o'er the shapeless pile
+ I poured the full strength of my soul,
+ Lost to all else the while!
+
+ When fell the last faint stroke which told
+ That thou and I must part,
+ That all of life that I could give
+ Was thine, how throbbed my heart!
+
+ Yet to this form that I have reared
+ Should aught of praise belong,
+ Not unto me the merit due,
+ But Him who made me strong:
+
+ Who with his ever fostering care
+ My wayward steps did guide,
+ Through paths of flowers, in beauty cloth'd,
+ Along life's sunny tide.
+
+ Semblance of him, the great, the good,
+ Whose task on earth is done;
+ Of those that walked in beauty's light
+ Thou wert the chosen one!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WE should like to see in some appropriate journal a sketch of the
+_Progress of Mechanics in the United States_. Without any question, the
+Americans are, in respect of that branch of science, behind no nation or
+people on earth. And yet no longer ago than 1791, a clock-maker from
+London, after public advertisement of his arrival from England for that
+purpose, visited our scattered cities and towns to repair clocks! 'Yankee
+ingenuity' was not then as now synonymous with the accomplishment of _any_
+thing that can either be fabricated or 'fixed'. · · · WE have no
+remembrance of the communication referred to in a note from a
+correspondent at Albany, in which we find the following sentences: 'If
+received, I hope it was not amenable to the censure in a late number of
+the KNICKERBOCKER, of certain correspondence, for having been written 'too
+carefully.' Now I do flatter myself upon so _writing_, that compositors
+can have no excuse for blunders, though I am well aware that to be
+esteemed a Genious, one's chirography should very nearly approach
+unintelligibility. If this be true, the patience and good nature of an
+Editor must be severely tried; but I incline to the opinion that a man of
+Genious need not model after BYRON's facsimile,' and so forth. Our
+correspondent _does_ write a good hand; so good indeed, that we lament, as
+we gaze at it, that he does not know how to _spell_. A man may certainly
+be a '_Genious_' without being able to write a clerkly hand; but a man who
+is _not_ a 'Genious,' ought at least to be able to spell the word. As to
+writing 'too carefully,' our censor has mistaken the letter for the spirit
+of our remarks. · · · THE lines '_To my Mother_' are replete with the
+poetry of _feeling_. Their literary execution however is marred by
+deficiencies, which although slight, require amending. Our correspondent
+we are sure has the true poetical vein; and we shall not despair of
+hearing from her again. · · · A VERY 'inquiring' correspondent desires to
+know 'whether there is any thing below a _quartette_, in music?--a
+_pintette_ or a _gillette_?' He is also anxious, he says, to 'ascertain
+whether PUFFER HOPKINS is any relation to the pious poet who was in
+partnership in the psalm and hymn way with old Uncle STERNHOLD, a great
+many years ago.' Moreover, he considers it 'a little curious' that a black
+hen should lay a white egg; and states that he 'would give something
+handsome to be certain whether or no NEBUCHADNEZZAR'S hands, when he was
+out on grass, grew six-penny or ten-penny nails!' His remaining queries
+are profane; indeed, the last one goes somewhat too near the edge. · · ·
+'EVER anxious to please,' as the advertisements have it, we have placed
+the original department of the KNICKERBOCKER in a larger type; and it
+seems to us that we may ask with some confidence whether our readers ever
+saw a Magazine in a neater garniture than 'this same?' Only have the
+consideration to _reciprocate_ our endeavors to please you, good PUBLIC,
+and you 'shall see what you shall see.' There are certain delinquents upon
+our books, to whom we would venture to insinuate, in the most delicate
+manner conceivable, that 'it is high time somebody had a sight of
+somebody's money.' · · · A NEW style of frames for drawings, engravings,
+paintings, looking-glasses, etc., has recently been brought to great
+perfection, and into very general favor, by Mr. WEISER, at No. 43
+Centre-street, near Pearl. They are composed externally of
+_glass-veneerings_, beautifully painted and shaded, so as to resemble
+different-tinted woods, tortoise-shell, or indeed any other colors that
+may be desired. These are painted on the inner side of the glass, which is
+so firmly cemented to the wood-frames as to be little liable to injury
+from jarring or even falling. With a gilt beading, they have a very
+beautiful appearance, by reason of the admirable lustre of the glass,
+which gives to them a polish finer than that of the most susceptible
+woods. They are, in short, exceedingly handsome, easily kept clean, always
+new and fresh, and what is worthy of mention, much cheaper than wood or
+gilt.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+.*. WILL our readers have the kindness to exhibit the ADVERTISEMENT OF OUR
+TWENTY-THIRD VOLUME to their friends? It will be found on the second and
+third pages of the cover of the present number; and they can testify to
+the accuracy of its unexaggerated statements. Many articles in prose and
+verse await examination or insertion, and a more particular reference
+hereafter. Notices are in type of new publications from the presses of
+Messrs. BURGESS AND STRINGER, M. W. DODD, J. WINCHESTER, the LANGLEY'S,
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, M. H. NEWMAN, WILEY AND PUTNAM, and of the
+'Columbian Magazine,' which we are reluctantly compelled to defer to our
+February issue.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
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+ padding-bottom: 2em;
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+ border-bottom: 2px gray solid;
+ font-size: 0.9em;
+ }
+
+ #footnotes li { margin-right: 2em; }
+ a:link { text-decoration: none; }
+ a:visited { text-decoration: none; }
+
+ a:hover {
+ color: red;
+ background: inherit;
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+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, 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 Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, January 1844
+ Volume 23, Number 1
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19383]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div id="title_page">
+<p class="stopword">THE</p>
+<p class="fancy volume_title">Knickerbocker,</p>
+<p class="stopword">OR</p>
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/frontis.png" alt="An engraving of an old fellow sitting sideways to a writing desk, surrounded by books and papers" width="446" height="393" />
+</div>
+<p class="volume_subtitle">NEW-YORK MONTHLY MAGAZINE.</p>
+<p class="volume_number">VOLUME XXIII.</p>
+<p class="publisher">NEW-YORK:<br />
+PUBLISHED BY JOHN ALLEN, NASSAU-STREET.<br />
+1844.</p>
+</div><!--Title Page-->
+<div id="index">
+<h2 class="title">INDEX.</h2>
+<p class="jump_index"><a href="#masthead">Click here to jump over the index</a></p>
+<p class="index_jumps">
+<a href="#index_A">A</a>
+<a href="#index_B">B</a>
+<a href="#index_C">C</a>
+<a href="#index_D">D</a>
+<a href="#index_E">E</a>
+<a href="#index_F">F</a>
+<a href="#index_G">G</a>
+<a href="#index_I">I</a>
+<a href="#index_J">J</a>
+<a href="#index_K">K</a>
+<a href="#index_L">L</a><br />
+<a href="#index_M">M</a>
+<a href="#index_N">N</a>
+<a href="#index_O">O</a>
+<a href="#index_P">P</a>
+<a href="#index_R">R</a>
+<a href="#index_S">S</a>
+<a href="#index_T">T</a>
+<a href="#index_V">V</a>
+<a href="#index_W">W</a>
+</p>
+<ul id="index_list">
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_A">A.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Apostrophe to an Old Hat. By <span class="special_name">J. G. Saxe</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page69" title="Go to Page 69">69</a></span></li>
+ <li>A Lady on the Rights of Women, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page79" title="Go to Page 79">79</a></span></li>
+ <li>A Second Ralph Ringwood, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page81" title="Go to Page 81">81</a></span></li>
+ <li>Ascent of Mount Ætna. By <span class="special_name">Thomas Cole</span>, <span class="index_page">103</span></li>
+ <li>A Night on the Prairie. By a Buffalo Hunter, <span class="index_page">114</span></li>
+ <li>A Winter Trip to Trenton Falls, <span class="index_page">133</span></li>
+ <li>A Veritable Sea-Story. By <span class="special_name">Harry Franco</span>, <span class="index_page">151</span></li>
+ <li>A Few Hints on the Philosophy of Size, <span class="index_page">156</span></li>
+ <li>American Manners and American Literature, <span class="index_page">180</span></li>
+ <li>An Apostrophe to Health, <span class="index_page">217</span></li>
+ <li>Anacreontic. By &#8216;G. H. H.&#8217;, <span class="index_page">275</span></li>
+ <li>A Christmas Carol in Prose, <span class="index_page">276</span></li>
+ <li>American Ptyalism: &#8216;Quid Rides?&#8217; <span class="index_page">288</span></li>
+ <li>A Pilgrimage to Penshurst. By <span class="special_name">C. Alexander</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">307</span></li>
+ <li>A First Night of Racine. By <span class="special_name">Flaneur</span>, <span class="index_page">345</span></li>
+ <li>Apostrophe to Time. By Miss <span class="special_name">Mary Gardiner</span>, <span class="index_page">353</span></li>
+ <li>An Alligatorical Sketch, <span class="index_page">361</span></li>
+ <li>Address and Poem at Boston, <span class="index_page">387</span></li>
+ <li>A Brace of &#8216;Pellets&#8217; from Julian, <span class="index_page">391</span></li>
+ <li>A Dream. By <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page">432</span></li>
+ <li>A Piscatorial Eclogue, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page46" title="Go to Page 46">46</a></span></li>
+ <li>A Picture by Murillo, <span class="index_page">503</span></li>
+ <li>A Song. By <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page">516</span></li>
+ <li>Autobiography of the Prairie Hermit, <span class="index_page">557</span></li>
+ <li>A Dream of Youth, <span class="index_page">561</span></li>
+ <li>A New Spirit of the Age, <span class="index_page">583</span></li>
+ <li>A Day With the great <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>, <span class="index_page">584</span></li>
+ <li>A Thrust with a Two-edged Weapon, <span class="index_page">590</span></li>
+ <li>Another &#8216;Pellet&#8217; from <span class="special_name">Julian</span>, <span class="index_page">595</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_B">B.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Benthamiana, <span class="index_page">282</span></li>
+ <li>Belizarius: A Historical Sketch, <span class="index_page">337</span></li>
+ <li>Birth-Day Meditations, <span class="index_page">527</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_C">C.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Coronation of George the Fourth, <span class="index_page">138</span></li>
+ <li>Curiosities of Foreign and Domestic Literature, <span class="index_page">490</span></li>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Clark&#8217;s</span> Literary Remains, <span class="index_page">495, 578</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_D">D.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Descriptive Poetry, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page1" title="Go to Page 1">1</a></span></li>
+ <li>Drawings and Tintings. By <span class="special_name">Alfred B. Street</span>, <span class="index_page">387</span></li>
+ <li>Disguised Derivative Words in English, <span class="index_page">570</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_E">E.
+ <ul>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Editor&#8217;s Table</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page78" title="Go to Page 78">78</a>, 180, 283, 389, 499, 584</span></li>
+ <li>Essay on a Passage in Macbeth. By <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page">153</span></li>
+ <li>Elementary Treatise on Human Physiology, <span class="index_page">178</span></li>
+ <li>Early Spring at the Homestead, <span class="index_page">438</span></li>
+ <li>English State Trials under the Popish Plot, <span class="index_page">447</span></li>
+ <li>Exhibition of the National Academy of Design, <span class="index_page">595</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_F">F.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Freedom&#8217;s Beacon at Bunker-Hill, <span class="index_page">132</span></li>
+ <li>Fragments from the Greek. By &#8216;G. H. H.&#8217; <span class="index_page">361</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_G">G.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Ganguernet: or a Capital Joke, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page62" title="Go to Page 62">62</a></span></li>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Gossip</span> with Readers and Correspondents, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page83" title="Go to Page 83">83</a>, 192, 289, 396, 505, 599</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_I">I.
+ <ul>
+ <li>I Follow: from the French, <span class="index_page">145</span></li>
+ <li>Isabel: the Death of the Young, <span class="index_page">218</span></li>
+ <li>Idyll: in imitation of Theocritus, <span class="index_page">323</span></li>
+ <li>Inscription for a Sarcophagus, <span class="index_page">367</span></li>
+ <li>Italy and the Italians. By <span class="special_name">J. T. Headley</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">498</span></li>
+ <li>Impudence of the French, <span class="index_page">499</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_J">J.
+ <ul>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Joseph C. Neale&#8217;s</span> &#8216;Charcoal Sketches,&#8217; <span class="index_page">184</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_K">K.
+ <ul>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Kendall&#8217;s</span> Narrative of the Santa Fe Expedition, <span class="index_page">382</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_L">L.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Lines to a Fringed Gentian. By <span class="special_name">William Cullen Bryant</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page"><a href="#fn3" title="Go to Footnote 3 (original on Page 28)">Footnote 3</a></span></li>
+ <li>Lines to Death, the Great Conqueror, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page44" title="Go to Page 44">44</a></span></li>
+ <li>Letter to the Editor from Mr. <span class="special_name">James Jessamine</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page58" title="Go to Page 58">58</a></span></li>
+ <li>Love&#8217;s Elysium: from the German, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page61" title="Go to Page 61">61</a></span></li>
+ <li>Lines to an Evening Cloud, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page73" title="Go to Page 73">73</a></span></li>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Literary Notices</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page74" title="Go to Page 74">74</a>, 170, 276, 382, 490, 578</span></li>
+ <li>Lines to Time. By Mrs. <span class="special_name">J. Webb</span>, <span class="index_page">113</span></li>
+ <li>Life&#8217;s Young Dream, <span class="index_page">119</span></li>
+ <li>Life: a Sonnet, <span class="index_page">159</span></li>
+ <li>Lines to J. T. of Ireland. By <span class="special_name">C. W. Day</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">169</span></li>
+ <li>Life and Times of the late <span class="special_name">William Abbott</span>, <span class="index_page">187</span></li>
+ <li>Lines sent with a Bouquet. By <span class="special_name">Park Benjamin</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">211</span></li>
+ <li>Legend of Don Roderick. By <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>, <span class="index_page">262, 324, 418</span></li>
+ <li>Literary Record, <span class="index_page">305</span></li>
+ <li>Lines with a &#8216;Floral Messenger,&#8217; <span class="index_page">534</span></li>
+ <li>Lines written under a portrait of Jupiter and Danäe, <span class="index_page">430</span></li>
+ <li>Lines to my Sister. By <span class="special_name">R. S. Chilton</span>, <span class="index_page">472</span></li>
+ <li>Legend of the Subjugation of Spain. By <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>, <span class="index_page">572</span></li>
+ <li>Lines by Prof. Plutarch Shaw, of Tinnecum, <span class="index_page">577</span></li>
+ <li>Life in the New World. By <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>, <span class="index_page">581</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_M">M.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Mexico as it was and is. By <span class="special_name">Brantz Mayer</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page"><a href="#page77" title="Go to Page 77">77</a></span></li>
+ <li>Music, Musicians, Musical Critics, and Ole Bull, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page80" title="Go to Page 80">80</a></span></li>
+ <li>Mr. <span class="special_name">Cheever&#8217;s</span> Lectures on the Pilgrims, <span class="index_page">388</span></li>
+ <li><span class="special_name">Mary May</span>: the Newfoundland Indian, <span class="index_page">523</span></li>
+ <li>Mental Hygiene. By <span class="special_name">William Sweetser</span>, M. D., <span class="index_page">581</span></li>
+ <li>Magazine Writing, <span class="index_page">589</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_N">N.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Night and Morning. By &#8216;<span class="special_name">Polygon</span>&#8217;, <span class="index_page">257</span></li>
+ <li>Night-Thoughts: to <span class="special_name">Blumine</span>, <span class="index_page">436</span></li>
+ <li>North-American Review for the April quarter, <span class="index_page">492</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_O">O.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Old reflections on the New Year, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page78" title="Go to Page 78">78</a></span></li>
+ <li>One Reading from Two Poets. By <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page">218</span></li>
+ <li>On Rivers and Other Things. By do., <span class="index_page">349</span></li>
+
+ </ul></li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_P">P.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Poems of <span class="special_name">James Russell Lowell</span>, <span class="index_page">170</span></li>
+ <li>Professor Shaw, of Tinnecum, <span class="index_page">549</span></li>
+ <li>Poetry and History of Wyoming. By <span class="special_name">William L. Stone</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">382</span></li>
+
+ </ul></li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_R">R.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Reminiscenses of a Dartmoor Prisoner, <span class="index_page">146, 356, 517</span></li>
+ <li>Rêves et Souvenirs, <span class="index_page">343</span></li>
+ <li>Religious Controversy. By &#8216;<span class="special_name">Flaccus</span>,&#8217; <span class="index_page">445</span></li>
+
+
+ </ul></li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_S">S.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Song of the New Year. By Mrs. <span class="special_name">R. S. Nichols</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page25" title="Go to Page 25">25</a></span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas suggested by <span class="special_name">Gliddon&#8217;s</span> Lectures, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page29" title="Go to Page 29">29</a></span></li>
+ <li>Sketches of East Florida: St. Augustine, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page45" title="Go to Page 45">45</a></span></li>
+ <li>Sonnet to the Old Year, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page53" title="Go to Page 53">53</a></span></li>
+ <li>Some Thoughts on the Country, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page70" title="Go to Page 70">70</a></span></li>
+ <li>Scenes and Scenery in the Sandwich Islands, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page77" title="Go to Page 77">77</a></span></li>
+ <li>Sicilian Scenery and Antiquities. By <span class="special_name">Thomas Cole</span>, <span class="index_page">103, 236</span></li>
+ <li>Some Sentiments on Sonnets, with Sundry Specimens, <span class="index_page">283</span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas to <span class="special_name">Mary</span>. By Mrs. <span class="special_name">M. E. Hewitt</span>, <span class="index_page">348</span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas on the Burial of an Infant, <span class="index_page">460</span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas to Niagara. By <span class="special_name">Claude Halcro</span>, <span class="index_page">489</span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas to my Three Departed Sisters, <span class="index_page">556</span></li>
+ <li>Stanzas Written in Indisposition. By the late <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord Clark</span>, <span class="index_page">569</span></li>
+
+ </ul></li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_T">T.
+ <ul>
+ <li>The Idleberg Papers: a Christmas Yarn, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page11" title="Go to Page 11">11</a></span></li>
+ <li>Thoughts on Color. By <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page26" title="Go to Page 26">26</a></span></li>
+ <li>The Quod Correspondence, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page30" title="Go to Page 30">30</a>, 120, 245, 368, 473, 529</span></li>
+ <li>Thoughts from Bulwer. By Mrs. <span class="special_name">M. T. W. Chandler</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page52" title="Go to Page 52">52</a></span></li>
+ <li>The Mail Robber, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page53" title="Go to Page 53">53</a></span></li>
+ <li>The Æneid of Virgil: with Notes by <span class="special_name">Chas. Anthon</span>, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page76" title="Go to Page 76">76</a></span></li>
+ <li>The Sacrifice, <span class="index_page">127</span></li>
+ <li>The Death-Bed. By the &#8216;<span class="special_name">Country Doctor</span>,&#8217; <span class="index_page">128</span></li>
+ <li>The Ruins of Burnside. By <span class="special_name">James Lawson</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">137</span></li>
+ <li>The Smithy. By <span class="special_name">Alfred B. Street</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page">155</span></li>
+ <li>Two Pictures: Love Celestial and Love Terrestrial, <span class="index_page">160</span></li>
+ <li>The Hermit of the Prairie, <span class="index_page">161</span></li>
+ <li>Translation from <span class="special_name">Catullus</span>. By Rev. Geo. W. <span class="special_name">Bethune</span>, <span class="index_page">166</span></li>
+ <li>The Painted Rock, <span class="index_page">167</span></li>
+ <li>Thirty Years among the Players of England and America, <span class="index_page">175</span></li>
+ <li>The Study of Woman&#8217;s Life, <span class="index_page">179</span></li>
+ <li>The American Review, <span class="index_page">179</span></li>
+ <li>The North American Review, for January, <span class="index_page">183</span></li>
+ <li>The Alms-House: a New-England Sketch, <span class="index_page">212</span></li>
+ <li>The Tyranny of Affection, <span class="index_page">222</span></li>
+ <li>The Fratricide&#8217;s Death, <span class="index_page">232</span></li>
+ <li>The Spectre Imp. By Mr. <span class="special_name">George Harvey</span>, <span class="index_page">338</span></li>
+ <li>The Church Bell, <span class="index_page">368</span></li>
+ <li>The Inner Life of Man. By Mr. <span class="special_name">Charles Hoover</span>, <span class="index_page">389, 599</span></li>
+ <li>The Floral Resurrection, <span class="index_page">417</span></li>
+ <li>The Dog-Star Spirit: or, Tray&#8217;s Reflections, <span class="index_page">431</span></li>
+ <li>The Poet Halleck: Epistle to the Editor, <span class="index_page">437</span></li>
+ <li>The Plague at Constantinople in 1837, <span class="index_page">511</span></li>
+ <li>The Song of Death. By <span class="special_name">Miss Mary Gardiner</span>, <span class="index_page">523</span></li>
+ <li>The Householder. by <span class="special_name">John Waters</span>, <span class="index_page">528</span></li>
+ <li>The Hearth of Home, <span class="index_page">548</span></li>
+
+ </ul></li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_V">V.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Vicissitudes, <span class="index_page"><a href="#page10" title="Go to Page 10">10</a></span></li>
+ <li>Voices of Affection, <span class="index_page">336</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+<li class="index_letter" id="index_W">W.
+ <ul>
+ <li>Winter Evening: an Extract. By <span class="special_name">J. G. Percival</span>, Esq., <span class="index_page"><a href="#page24" title="Go to Page 24">24</a></span></li>
+ <li>What is Transcendentalism? <span class="index_page">205</span></li>
+ <li>Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor, <span class="index_page">281</span></li>
+ <li>What is It? A Lover&#8217;s Query, <span class="index_page">489</span></li>
+ </ul>
+</li>
+</ul>
+<div class="transcriber_note">
+<p>Transcriber&#8217;s Note: The page numbers in the index convert to issues in the following way:</p>
+<table id="index_conversion" summary="Conversion of index page numbers to issue month">
+ <tr>
+ <th>Month</th> <th>Pages</th>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>January,&nbsp;1844</td> <td class="pages">1-102</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>February</td> <td class="pages">103-204</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>March</td> <td class="pages">205-306</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>April</td> <td class="pages">307-408</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>May</td> <td class="pages">409-510</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>June</td> <td class="pages">511-608</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+</div><!--Volume Index-->
+<div id="masthead">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page1" name="page1"></a>1</span></p>
+<h1 class="issue_title">THE KNICKERBOCKER.</h1>
+<table id="mastdate" summary="A cheat to display the masthead properly">
+ <tr>
+ <td class="leftcell">Vol. XXIII.</td> <td class="centercell">January, 1844.</td> <td class="rightcell">No. 1.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+</div><!--Masthead-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">DESCRIPTIVE POETRY.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.</h3>
+<p><span class="first_word">Whatever</span> the poets may say, it is incontrovertible that the great
+majority of men look upon the beauties and glories of Nature that surround
+them with almost entire indifference. We shall not inquire
+whether this is the result of a natural incapacity to perceive and admire
+the beautiful and sublime, or whether it is that their impressions
+are so deadened by familiarity as to be passed by unnoticed. Probably
+the former is the case with the greater number; although we cannot
+believe with some writers, that all our ideas of beauty are but the
+results of association, or of our perceptions of the proportion, or fitness,
+or utility of things. When we say that some things are naturally
+agreeable, and others naturally disagreeable, we have said all that we
+know about the matter; and this amounts to nothing more than a confession
+of our ignorance. Yet, if we admit in all men the existence of
+a natural sense of beauty, daily observation shows us that the pleasure
+arising from it is in most cases very feeble and evanescent. How
+many live in the midst of the most magnificent natural scenery, and
+never perceive its beauties until they are pointed out to them by some
+intelligent traveller! And often if admiration be professed, it is of that
+vague, undistinguishing kind, which indicates little knowledge of the
+causes why they admire. Even among men of cultivated tastes, there
+is much more of affected than real enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>If what we have said be true, it is a curious subject of inquiry why
+descriptive poetry has been so popular. How happens it that so many
+who have looked upon Nature herself with great indifference, have been
+so much delighted with the reflection of her image in the pages of the
+poets? We suspect, indeed, that a part of the popularity of this class
+of writers is factitious. <span class="special_name">Thomson</span>, the most popular, is we suspect
+oftener purchased than read; and his &#8216;Seasons&#8217; are not unfrequently
+spoken of with admiration by those who know little of them but the
+episodes. The chief interest of the &#8216;Task&#8217; is to be sought for in other
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page2" name="page2"></a>2</span>sources than its descriptions, notwithstanding the <i>curiosa felicitas</i> of
+Cowper&#8217;s diction.</p>
+
+<p>The pleasure which we feel in reading descriptive poetry may perhaps
+in all cases be traced to one of the three following sources: the conception
+in our own minds of objects corresponding in a greater or less
+degree to those which exist in the mind of the poet; the train of associations
+which his language awakens; or the moral interest with which
+he invests what he describes. In the case first mentioned, the emotions
+we feel are similar to those which the sight of the objects themselves
+would produce; if beautiful, of pleasure; if terrible, of awe. A
+painting, which is an accurate representation of nature, regarded irrespective
+of the skill of the artist, would affect us in the same way. But
+the effects resulting from this cause are too inconsiderable to require
+particular mention. The picture which words are able to present is so
+indistinct and vague as rarely to produce any strong emotion. If the
+objects themselves are generally looked upon with indifference, much
+less can a verbal description of them afford us any great degree of
+pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>The language which the poet uses often suggests to the mind of the
+reader trains of thought and imagery which were never present to his
+own mind. Hence many expressions which are in themselves eminently
+poetic, will arouse associations, oftentimes, that entirely spoil the passage.
+On the other hand, an expression low and vulgar may be ennobled by
+its associations, and give dignity and force to the composition. We not
+unfrequently meet phrases which have great beauty in the eyes of one
+man, which seem flat and insipid in the eyes of another. Every writer
+who has attempted dignified or pathetic composition, has felt how difficult
+it is to avoid those words which will suggest ideas that are unworthy of
+the subject. If, however, the poet is sometimes a loser, he is also sometimes
+a gainer from this cause. The reader often finds in his own associations,
+sources of pleasure independent of the poet. The light that
+illumines the page is but the reflected radiance of his own thoughts, and
+is unseen by all save himself.</p>
+
+<p>But it is in the moral interest with which the poet invests the objects
+he describes, that the chief source of our pleasure is to be found. The
+poet paints Nature, not as she is, but as she seems. He adorns her with
+beauty not her own, and presents her thus adorned to men, to admire
+and to love. It is by interweaving human sympathies and feelings with
+the objects of the material world, that they lose their character of &#8216;mute
+insensate things,&#8217; and acquire the power to charm and to soothe us,
+amidst all the cares and anxieties of our life. The intellectual process
+which here takes place is so interesting and important that we shall
+make no apology for treating the subject at some length.</p>
+
+<p>It is sufficiently obvious that an accurate description of nature, or a
+beautiful work of art, is not poetical. On the other hand, in proportion
+as the minuteness of the description is increased, the poetry vanishes.
+The traveller who should give us the exact dimensions of the pyramids,
+the precise height of the terraces, the width and height of the inner
+passages, would give us much more definite ideas of those structures
+than he who should paint to us the effects produced on his own mind by
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page3" name="page3"></a>3</span>their vastness, their antiquity, and the solitude that surrounds them. So
+in descriptions of natural scenery, the geographer who gives us the
+measurement of mountains, and rivers, and plains, is much more accurate
+than he who describes them solely from the picture that exists in his
+fancy. We wish to be rightly understood. We do not mean that
+vagueness and generality are essential to poetical description. As on
+the one hand, mathematical accuracy, by allowing no play to the imagination,
+produces a feeble impression, so on the other the indistinctness
+arising from indefinite expressions is equally unfavorable. But in
+neither is the poetry of the description dependent on the greater or less
+degree of minuteness with which particular objects are spoken of.
+When Whitbread described the Phenix, according to Sheridan&#8217;s version,
+&#8216;like a poulterer; it was green, and red, and yellow, and blue; he did
+not let us off for a single feather,&#8217; he did not fail more egregiously than
+Thomson in the following lines, in which, by the force of language, a
+flock of geese are made highly poetical objects:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i14">&#8216;Hushed in short suspense</p>
+<p>The plumy people streak their wings with oil,</p>
+<p>To throw the lucid moisture trickling off,</p>
+<p>And wait the approaching sign to strike at once</p>
+<p>Into the general choir.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The poet indeed must give us a lively and definite image of the scene
+or object which he undertakes to describe. But how shall this be done?
+Simply by telling us how it appeared to him; introducing those circumstances
+which had the greatest effect on his own imagination. He looks
+on nature neither as a gardener, a geographer, an astronomer, nor a
+geologist, but as a man, susceptible of strong impressions, and able to
+describe clearly to others the objects which affected himself. This he
+will do in the style which the emotion raised within him naturally dictates.
+His imagery, his illustrations, his whole language, will take the
+hue of his own feelings. It is in describing accurately the effect, not
+the cause, the emotion, not the object which produced it, that the poet&#8217;s
+fidelity to nature consists. Let us illustrate our meaning by two or
+three examples. In Thomson we find the following description of a
+thunder-storm:</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i14">&#8216;A boding silence reigns</p>
+<p>Dread through the dun expanse; save the dull sound</p>
+<p>That from the mountain, previous to the storm,</p>
+<p>Rolls o&#8217;er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood,</p>
+<p>And shakes the forest leaf without a breath.</p>
+<p>Prone to the lowest vale, the aërial tribes</p>
+<p>Descend: the tempest-loving raven scarce</p>
+<p>Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze</p>
+<p>The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens</p>
+<p>Cast a deploring eye, by man forsook,</p>
+<p>Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast,</p>
+<p>Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all,</p>
+<p>When to the startled eye the sudden glance</p>
+<p>Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud</p>
+<p>And following slower in explosion vast,</p>
+<p>The thunder raises his tremendous voice.</p>
+<p>At first heard solemn o&#8217;er the verge of heaven</p>
+<p>The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes</p>
+<p>And rolls its awful burthen on the wind,</p>
+<p>The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more</p>
+<p>The noise astounds; till over head a sheet</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page4" name="page4"></a>4</span>Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts</p>
+<p>And opens wider; shuts, and opens still</p>
+<p>Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.</p>
+<p>Follows the loosened, aggravated roar,</p>
+<p>Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal</p>
+<p>Crushed horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="special_name">Mr. Irving</span> describes a similar scene in the following terms: &#8216;It
+was the latter part of a calm sultry day, that they floated quietly with
+the tide between these stern mountains. There was that perfect quiet
+which prevails over nature in the languor of summer heat; the turning
+of a plank, or the accidental falling of an oar on deck, was echoed from
+the mountain side, and reverberated along the shores. To the left the
+Dunderberg reared its woody precipices, height over height, forest over
+forest, away into the deep summer sky. To the right strutted forth the
+bold promontory of Antony&#8217;s nose, with a solitary eagle wheeling about
+it; while beyond, mountain succeeded to mountain, until they seemed to
+lock their arms together, and confine this mighty river in their embraces.
+In the midst of his admiration, Dolph remarked a pile of bright snowy
+clouds peering above the western heights. It was succeeded by another
+and another, each seemingly pushing onward its predecessor, and towering
+with dazzling brilliancy in the deep blue atmosphere; and now
+muttering peals of thunder were faintly heard rolling behind the mountains.
+The river, hitherto still and glassy, reflecting pictures of the
+sky and land, now showed a dark ripple at a distance, as the breeze
+came creeping up it. The fish-hawks wheeled and screamed, and
+sought their nests on the high dry trees; the crows flew clamorously
+to the crevices of the rocks, and all nature seemed conscious of the
+approaching thunder gust. The clouds now rolled in volumes over
+the mountain tops; their summits still bright and snowy, but the lower
+parts of an inky blackness. The rain began to patter down in broad
+and scattered drops; the winds freshened, and curled up the waves; at
+length it seemed as if the bellying clouds were torn open by the mountain
+tops, and complete torrents of rain came rattling down. The lightning
+leaped from cloud to cloud, and streamed quivering against the
+rocks, splitting and rending the stoutest forest trees; the thunder burst
+in tremendous explosions; the peals were echoed from mountain to
+mountain; they clashed upon Dunderberg, and then rolled up the long
+defile of the Highlands, each headland waking a new echo, until old Bull
+Hill seemed to bellow back the storm.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>We think that no one who attentively reads the foregoing extracts can
+fail to see the infinite superiority of the latter over the former, in every
+thing that pertains to a faithful representation of nature. Irving has
+given us the scene just as he saw it, unmixed with any hue or coloring
+with which the mood of his own mind might have invested it. We see
+the objects themselves, disconnected from the associations of the spectator.
+Had there been a thousand persons looking on, each would have
+heard the same sounds, and seen the same sights. There is nothing
+that is extraneous. He has given us an exact copy of his original, and
+nothing more. Thomson, on the contrary, has not described a thunderstorm
+as he saw it, but according to the effect that it produced on his own
+mind. His epithets are rarely descriptive of the qualities that exist in
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page5" name="page5"></a>5</span>the objects to which they are applied. They have reference rather to
+the emotions which their presence produces in himself. Thus, in the
+first line, &#8216;boding&#8217; is not a quality that can be predicated of silence.
+To the feeling that the silence preceding a storm is wont to excite, the
+epithet is properly enough applied. So with the expression &#8216;dubious
+dusk.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>In connection with these extracts, we will look at one taken from
+<span class="special_name">Scott&#8217;s</span> description of the scenery around Loch Katrine:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Boon nature scattered free and wild,</p>
+<p>Each plant, or flower, the mountain&#8217;s child;</p>
+<p>Here eglantine embalmed the air,</p>
+<p>Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;</p>
+<p>The primrose pale, and violet flower,</p>
+<p>Found in each cleft a narrow bower;</p>
+<p>Foxglove and night-shade, side by side</p>
+<p>Emblems of punishment and pride,</p>
+<p>Grouped their dark hues with every stain</p>
+<p>The weather-beaten crags retain;</p>
+<p>With boughs that quaked at every breath,</p>
+<p>Gray-birch and aspen wept beneath;</p>
+<p>Aloft the ash and warrior oak</p>
+<p>Cast anchor in the rifted rock;</p>
+<p>And higher yet the pine tree hung</p>
+<p>His scattered trunk, and frequent flung</p>
+<p>Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high</p>
+<p>His boughs athwart the narrowed sky.</p>
+<p>Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,</p>
+<p>Where glistening streamers waved and danced,</p>
+<p>The wanderer&#8217;s eye could barely view</p>
+<p>The summer heaven&#8217;s delicious blue.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The same remarks which we applied to Irving are applicable with
+some little restriction here. With one or two exceptions, the epithets
+mark attributes that exist in the subjects. Every one can see at a
+glance the appropriateness of such terms as <em>pale</em> primrose, <em>gray</em> birch,
+and <em>narrow</em> bower. They are not dependent for their effect upon any
+fanciful train of associations which their names may excite.</p>
+
+<p>If we compare the above extracts together, we arrive at certain results
+which we shall briefly state. We will throw out of view for a
+moment any pleasure which the rhythm may give us, as foreign to our
+present purpose. Each of these writers is describing a scene from
+nature. Each of them has the same object, to interest others by a representation
+of those sights and sounds that interested themselves. Scott
+accomplishes his purpose by presenting as exact a picture of nature as it
+is possible perhaps for words to give. He does not tell us how he is
+affected by what he sees, and looks upon neither directly nor indirectly.
+He does not search for any resemblances that are not palpable, and
+founded in the nature of things. All similes and metaphors which serve
+to express his own emotions are carefully avoided. The whole is picturesque
+and life-like in the highest degree, yet every circumstance is
+mentioned in the cool, unimpassioned way in which we mention any
+common occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>Thomson accomplishes his purpose by portraying his own feelings;
+not indeed in so many words, but by the use of those expressions, and by
+those transitions of thought, which mark a state of emotion. The epithet
+&#8216;boding,&#8217; to which we have referred, is an example. It is an indirect
+disclosure of the mood of his own mind. At another time it is not improbable
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page6" name="page6"></a>6</span>that an epithet of a directly opposite meaning would have been
+selected. The reader is affected by it, because by a law of sympathy,
+we are affected by whatever reveals the presence of passion in another.
+It influences us precisely as the tones of the voice of a person in distress
+influence us. Both are expressive of emotion, and we cannot remain
+unaffected by them.</p>
+
+<p>This is the main source of the pleasure we feel in reading Thomson's
+description. It conveys to us but a very indistinct idea of the subject
+matter. Different readers, according to their mental peculiarities, will
+be differently affected by it. He does not paint to the bodily eye, but to
+the eye of the mind; and he will feel most pleasure who puts himself
+in the same position as the poet, and sees with his eyes and hears
+with his ears. Unless he can do this, he will derive but little gratification
+from the perusal.</p>
+
+<p>Less minute than Irving, and more picturesque than Thomson, Scott
+will probably to most readers give more pleasure than either of them.
+In conveying lively impressions of natural objects he is unsurpassed,
+but he is scarcely less successful in inspiring the mind of the reader
+with the same emotions that fill his own breast. There is ever between
+the thought and its expression a perfect harmony. It is only when agitated
+by passion that he uses the <em>language</em> of passion. Hence we never
+find that timid phraseology which so often disgusts us in Thomson; <i>vox
+et præterea nihil</i>. No one delights more in the use of figurative language,
+nor employs metaphors that more appropriately convey the sentiment
+that pervades his mind. In the passage we have quoted are the following
+lines:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Aloft the ash and warrior oak</p>
+<p>Cast anchor in the rifted rock.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The poet looking up at the trees firmly rooted in the rifts of the rock,
+defying the tempest and storm, felt an emotion of pleasure which the
+sight of their lofty position, and the apparent danger of their being hurled
+headlong at the first blast of wind, contrasted with the sense of their
+real security, produced. To express this pleasurable emotion, he fastens
+upon the resemblance between a root of the tree and an anchor; a
+resemblance not between the things themselves, but between their uses.
+Neglecting all the points of difference, and confining his attention to this
+single point of similarity, he presents an image which all admit to be
+highly forcible and poetical.</p>
+
+<p>The great merit of all descriptive poetry consists in the unity of feeling
+which pervades it. Unlike the epic, or the drama, it has none of
+the interest which arises from a connected narrative, or the development
+of individual character in reference to a certain end. The poet confines
+himself to the expression of those feelings which are awakened
+by the sight of the beauty and sublimity of nature. Passing, as he
+necessarily must, from one object to another, each fitted to excite in his
+bosom conflicting emotions, his attention is so much diverted, that none
+of them produces upon him its legitimate effect. There is wanting
+some central object of interest to which all others are subordinate.
+Hence is explained the listlessness of which every one is conscious in
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page7" name="page7"></a>7</span>the continuous perusal of the Seasons. We find the greatest pleasure
+by reading a page here and a page there, according to the state of our
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>It is never in short poems that the descriptive poets succeed best.
+L&#8217;Allegro and Le Penseroso are gems; but all Milton&#8217;s genius could
+not have made the Paradise Lost readable, were it deprived of its unity
+as an epic, and broken up into a series of detached pictures. The Deserted
+Village of Goldsmith is the longest poem of this class that we
+now remember, having all its parts so pervaded by a common spirit that
+a succession of new objects does not impair the designed effect. Sweet
+Auburn as it was in its palmy days, and as it is in its desolation, presents
+two distinct pictures, yet so closely connected that each heightens
+the effect of the other by the contrast. Nothing can exceed the exquisite
+art with which Goldsmith has seized upon those circumstances
+that tend to make the desired impression, and rejected all others.
+How perfect are each of the following descriptions, and how much would
+their beauty be marred by the transfer of a single circumstance from
+one to the other:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;How often have I paused on every charm,</p>
+<p>The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm;</p>
+<p>The never-failing brook, the busy mill,</p>
+<p>The decent church that topped the neighb&#8217;ring hill;</p>
+<p>The hawthorn-bush with seats beneath the shade,</p>
+<p>For talking age and whispering lovers made.</p>
+</div>
+<p class="poetry_break">&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;</p>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;The dancing pair that simply sought renown,</p>
+<p>By holding out to tire each other down;</p>
+<p>The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,</p>
+<p>While secret laughter tittered round the place;</p>
+<p>The bashful virgin&#8217;s sidelong looks of love,</p>
+<p>The matron&#8217;s glance, that would those looks reprove.</p>
+</div>
+<p class="poetry_break">&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;</p>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,</p>
+<p>But choked with sedges works its weedy way;</p>
+<p>Along thy glade, a solitary guest,</p>
+<p>The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;</p>
+<p>Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,</p>
+<p>And tires the echoes with unvaried cries;</p>
+<p>Sunk are thy bowers, in shapeless ruin all,</p>
+<p>And the long grass o&#8217;ertops the mouldering wall.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is by the selection of such objects as have in themselves no common
+bond of union, but which combine to raise a certain emotion, that
+the essential distinction is to be found between the descriptions of the
+poet and the prose-writer. The latter joins objects together as they are
+joined in nature, following a principle of association which is simple
+and obvious. His resemblances are usually such as are cognizable by
+the senses; a likeness in the sensible qualities of things. The poet&#8217;s
+principle of association is in the effect produced on his imagination.
+Things which have not in themselves a single point of similarity, are
+connected together, because they produce the same emotions of pleasure,
+or pain, or hope, or melancholy. A beautiful illustration of this is
+found in the opening stanzas of Gray&#8217;s Elegy:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,</p>
+<p>The lowing herd winds slowly o&#8217;er the lea,</p>
+<p>The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,</p>
+<p>And leaves the world to darkness and to me.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,</p>
+<p>And all the air a solemn stillness holds,</p>
+<p>Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,</p>
+<p>And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page8" name="page8"></a>8</span>A summer evening in the country is associated in most minds with
+images of mirth and joy. Thus Goldsmith has described it:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening&#8217;s close,</p>
+<p>Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;</p>
+<p>There as I passed with careless steps, and slow,</p>
+<p>The mingling notes came softened from below;</p>
+<p>The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung,</p>
+<p>The sober herd that lowed to meet their young;</p>
+<p>The noisy geese that gabbled o&#8217;er the pool,</p>
+<p>The playful children just let loose from school,</p>
+<p>The watch-dog&#8217;s voice, that bayed the whisp&#8217;ring wind,</p>
+<p>And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>With what consummate skill, if indeed it be not rather the instinct of
+the poet, has Gray avoided all mention of those objects which might
+awaken associations discordant with the mood of his own mind! Each
+epithet is full of a plaintive melancholy. There is not one that does
+not contribute something to the effect; not one that can be omitted; not
+one that can be altered for the better. Yet there is scarcely one that is
+descriptive of any quality actually existing in its subject. The fitness
+of each is to be felt rather than seen.</p>
+
+<p>In the selection of those circumstances and objects which Gray has
+enumerated, he was governed by the effect which each had upon his
+own feelings. He looked upon nature in the reflected light of his own
+heart. He was mournful in view of the destiny of man; and wandering
+amidst the graves of the lowly and obscure, he saw all the external
+world colored with the hue of his own sad thoughts. The melancholy
+spirit within him transformed all things without into its own likeness.
+His imagination, darting hither and thither, and governed in its flight by
+laws too subtle and delicate to be analyzed, reposed itself for a moment
+amidst the gloom of the historical associations that cluster around the
+curfew, hovered over the lowing herd, and followed the ploughman as
+he homeward plods his weary way. Goldsmith, recalling the scenes
+where he had spent many happy hours, looks upon nature under a far
+different aspect. Every thing to him is gay and joyous. He hears not
+the hollow tones of the curfew, nor the drowsy tinklings that lull the distant
+folds. He sees not the wearied ploughman, caring for nought but
+to forget his toils in the sweet oblivion of sleep. He hears but the song
+of the milk-maid, and the soft response of her rustic lover; the watchdog&#8217;s
+voice, and the loud laugh of the happy idlers. He sees but the
+children just escaped from school, running and leaping, and romping in
+their innocent glee. Happy himself, he fastens upon whatever in nature
+around him seems to sympathise with him, and dwelling fondly upon it,
+casts away from his thoughts every thing that can obstruct the full, free
+flow of his joyous emotions.</p>
+
+<p>We may remark in passing, what has probably been before remarked
+by the attentive reader, that both Gray and Goldsmith, excited as they
+are by different passions, refer to the &#8216;lowing herd&#8217; as raising on the
+one hand a cheerful, and on the other a melancholy feeling. To our
+thought, the associations connected with the return of the herds from the
+fields at sunset are best fitted to awaken that quiet, reflective state of
+mind which is most congenial to the mood of the elegiac poet. To
+another, these associations may be of such a character as to produce a
+directly opposite effect.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a>9</span>The writer of prose who should describe scenes like these, would aim
+to give us a distinct and accurate picture by presenting all their prominent
+features, omitting nothing, and grouping them as Nature herself had
+grouped them. Such descriptions we daily see in all books of voyages
+and travels. Or if the descriptions be of scenes wholly imaginary,
+their essential character is not changed. Although they cease to be
+real, they do not become poetical. The extract which we have made
+from Irving is not poetical. Accurate, vivid, life-like, it is. We cannot
+read it without a feeling of pleasure. We admire the genius of the
+writer; we wonder at the magnificence of the spectacle which, by a
+few masterly touches, he has raised up before us. But there is no
+more poetry in it than in his description of Herr Van Tassel&#8217;s supper
+table, covered with all the luxuries of Dutch housewifery. It is true,
+there may be more of beauty and sublimity in the scenery of the Hudson,
+in the gathering clouds and muttering thunder, than in the sight of
+dough-nuts and crullers, sweet-cakes and short-cakes, peach pies and
+pumpkin pies, slices of ham and slices of smoked beef; yet the spirit
+of poetry exists no more in the one than in the other. Poetry has its
+abode in the <em>heart</em> of man; not in the winds, in the clouds, in the
+mountains, or in the vales. It does not derive its power from the outward
+world, but breathes into it its own breath of life, investing the
+earth with a beauty which has no existence but in the human soul, and
+filling the air with sweet harmonies, which are unheard save by the
+inspired ear of the poet.</p>
+
+<p>We have now, we think, sufficiently answered the question, why so
+many who read descriptive poetry with pleasure, look with indifference
+upon what is beautiful or sublime in nature. The poet is to them like
+one who gives sight to the blind. The landscape which formerly lay
+before their eyes unregarded, almost unseen, is now &#8216;beautiful exceedingly.&#8217;
+Nature has not changed; they themselves have not changed;
+yet there <em>is</em> a change. There is a glory unseen before, cast over the
+earth. It is, as it were, transfigured before them, and made radiant
+with celestial light. This is the poet&#8217;s work. With a keener perception
+of the beautiful and sublime than other men; with a greater facility
+of association, and with the power to give to language the hue and
+intensity of his own feelings, he clothes lifeless nature with the attributes
+of humanity, making it instinct with human sentiment and passion.
+Like Burns, he pours forth his lament over the mountain-daisy cut down
+in its bloom, in a few simple words that find a response in the hearts of
+all men; and henceforth it is embalmed in our memories, and shall be as
+immortal as the star that shines in the far depths of the heavens. Like
+Wordsworth, he wanders upon the banks of his native lakes, and mingles
+his song with the noise of their waters, until the faintest whisper of
+the rippling waves seems but the echo of his voice. Wherever he goes
+fruits, flowers, and herbage spring up in his footsteps. A divine
+Presence goes with him; Nature speaks to him with her thousand voices,
+and he hears, and answers, making sweet music in the joy of his heart.
+Nothing is so inconsiderable as to be without the pale of his sympathy;
+nothing too humble to stir the fountains of love in his breast. The solitary
+flower that blossoms by the way-side, the rivulet far away amid the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page10" name="page10"></a>10</span>hills, is but the starting point of that wondrous chain of thick-coming
+fancies, that fill his eyes with light, and his ear with harmony; as if
+multitudes of angels were hovering around, and he heard on every side
+the rustling of their wings.</p>
+
+<p>Such are the gifts of the poet. They are God&#8217;s gifts, and are indeed
+&#8216;wonderful in our eyes.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+</div><!--Descriptive Poetry-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">VICISSITUDES.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Hast</span> thou not been where wild winds, freshly blowing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Brought odorous gladness on each passing gale;</p>
+<p>Hast thou not been where the pure streamlet flowing,</p>
+<p class="i2">In each soft murmur told a gentle tale:</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>As the bright flashing of its gushing water,</p>
+<p class="i2">Glad as the tones of merriment and glee</p>
+<p>That joyous burst from children in their laughter,</p>
+<p class="i2">Swift dashes onward to the boundless sea?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not been where the enamelled mead</p>
+<p class="i2">Its beauty gave to the enraptured sense,</p>
+<p>And the crushed lily, from the elastic tread,</p>
+<p class="i2">Yielded its life in breath of sweets intense?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not been in spring-time&#8217;s early hours,</p>
+<p class="i2">Where the lone bird its short sweet carol gave</p>
+<p>To the young bursting leaves and budding flowers,</p>
+<p class="i2">Beside some wildly-rushing mountain wave?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Not such the lay it sings in summer hours,</p>
+<p class="i2">When love beats high within its little breast,</p>
+<p>And its exulting song it joyous pours,</p>
+<p class="i2">Where thick embowering leaves conceal its nest.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not marked, when autumn&#8217;s gorgeous glory</p>
+<p class="i2">Fled in the rushing of the hurrying blast,</p>
+<p>The deep&#8217;ning pathos of the moral story</p>
+<p class="i2">Sighed in each cadence, as it onward passed.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not heard the ancient forests, bending</p>
+<p class="i2">To the far sweeping of the mighty wind,</p>
+<p>Send forth a solemn sound, as though responding</p>
+<p class="i2">To voices deep that secret powers unbind?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not stood where ocean madly raging,</p>
+<p class="i2">Rolled onward as with overmastering shock:</p>
+<p>&#8216;Till hushed the storm, the chaféd surge assuaging,</p>
+<p class="i2">It gently laved the firm-opposing rock?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hast thou not gleaned a lesson to thy reason</p>
+<p class="i2">From winter&#8217;s fostering power and spring&#8217;s awakening reign;</p>
+<p>Summer&#8217;s brief heat, autumn&#8217;s maturing season,</p>
+<p class="i2">And learned vicissitudes are not in vain?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>But from the varied page outspread before thee,</p>
+<p class="i2">Garner&#8217;d of wisdom for thy fleeting days,</p>
+<p>Whether the sunshine or the storm be o&#8217;er thee,</p>
+<p class="i2">Forward to look with hope, and trust, and praise?</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="location">Newport, Rhode-Island, Dec., 1843.</span> <span class="author">E. R. G. H.</span></p>
+</div><!--Vicissitudes-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name="page11"></a>11</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">THE IDLEBERG PAPERS.</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle">A CHRISTMAS YARN.</h3>
+<p><span class="first_word">At</span> Christmas every body is or should be happy. The genial influence
+of the season lightens alike the lofty hall and the lowly cottage.
+It is the same at home or abroad, on the land or the billow, in royal purple
+or in ragged poverty; here and every where, to one and to all, it is
+always &#8216;merrie Christmas.&#8217; At such a time there is an obligation due
+from every man to society, to be happy, and the more cheerfully it is
+paid, the better. The man who would be found scowling and glowering
+like a thunder-cloud, cherishing his private griefs or animosities at a
+time when every other countenance is glowing with light, and hope, and
+sunshine, should be denied all the charities of humanity, and exiled to
+Kamschatka, or some other inhospitable clime, to growl and fret with the
+wild beasts, or the wilder elements.</p>
+
+<p>How dear is the light of home when glowing with the fires of Christmas!
+What though the elements be wild without, or Jack Frost blow
+his whistling pipe at the door, or fierce winds rumble down the chimney,
+and tell of sweeping gusts and howling storms abroad, if within and
+around that charmed circle is breathed the spirit of kindness and affection!
+Should the titled stranger or the ragged beggar knock, throw wide open
+the doors of thy hospitality; and while prattling infants recount the joys
+of the season, and school-boy striplings pursue their holiday sports, and
+gray-haired men who have traversed the wide world over, tell how in
+all their wanderings they have never passed a Christmas from home;
+he will turn his thoughts with a melancholy pleasure to the distant fireside
+beyond the sea, and to the friends who are gathered there, and wonder
+where the wanderer is spending his Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>With all respect for the ancient and honorable class of &#8216;old bachelors,&#8217;
+whose sympathy and good fellowship we most earnestly desire,
+be it said, that if to any it is allowed to be miserable at Christmas,
+it surely is to them. We would not for the world say aught to heighten
+the sad picture of their social desolation, by dwelling on the thousand tender
+endearments of home, the ten thousand cords of love, of which they
+know nothing. Certain it is, that to many of them &#8216;merrie Christmas&#8217;
+brings only pangs of remorse; and we have known more than one
+crusty member of the fraternity, who on such occasions would rush incontinently
+from the scene and the sound of merriment, and shut themselves
+under lock and key, until the storm was passed, and people have
+recovered their lost senses.</p>
+
+<p>Such an one, however, we are proud to say, was <em>not</em> <span class="special_name">Tom Hardesty</span>,
+though bachelor he was, in the superlative degree. Every body wondered
+how he managed to preserve his good-humor and vivacity under the
+frosts of three-score winters. At the period of this authentic history,
+Tom was the village grocer; a station he had filled to his own profit
+and the town&#8217;s convenience until he had become a piece of village furniture,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a>12</span>necessary to its existence as a corporation. His little store, with
+its great variety of commodities, adapted to every human want, was in
+itself a perfect &#8216;curiosity-shop.&#8217; Odd-looking boxes, kegs, chests,
+casks, barrels and hogsheads, contained his groceries, drugs and dye-stuffs.
+A few remnants of domestic prints and muslins, together with
+stray fragments of broadcloth, constituted his stock of dry-goods. Then
+there was a modicum of hardware and cutlery; a few spelling-books
+and new testaments for a book store; and sundry jars and bottles filled
+with fancy-colored powders and liquids, for an apothecary shop. His
+remaining list of commodities was made up of hats, caps and bonnets,
+boots and shoes, tin-pans and looking-glasses, slate-pencils and sifters;
+and as his standing advertisement in the village newspaper duly notified
+the public, &#8216;other articles too numerous to mention&#8212;call and see for
+yourselves.&#8217; If any body desired an article nobody ever heard of before,
+he could find a large lot thereof at Tom Hardesty&#8217;s; and if any
+lucky or ingenious wight had found or made any thing that nobody else
+would have as a gracious gift, let him call on Mr. Hardesty, and it was
+the very thing he wanted. In a word, his shop was a grand dépôt for
+every article the ingenuity of man could devise, or his necessities require.</p>
+
+<p>What a blessed convenience was Tom Hardesty! How could we have
+gotten along without him? How honest and affable! What long ells
+and heavy pounds he gave! And then his tea! how it inspired the
+village gossip on long winter nights in a chimney corner! All the
+matrons of the village were quite in love with Tom, or his tea; and
+many an old crone, as she sat inhaling cup after cup of the divine beverage,
+has been known to pause in the midst of her inspirations, and
+exclaim with uplifted hands, &#8216;God bless Tom Hardesty!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>And yet Tom Hardesty was a bachelor, and kept &#8216;bachelor&#8217;s hall.&#8217;
+The only members of his mess were an orphan boy of his adoption,
+who waited in the store, and a brindle cat which the master had honored
+with his own name. This point, however, is still wrapt in obscurity,
+for Tom and &#8216;Tom&#8217; were both so venerable that nobody could swear
+whether the cat had been named after the master, or the master after
+the cat. It had been rumored by those who should know, that Mr.
+Hardesty should not be held strictly accountable for this sin of celibacy,
+since he had offered his hand, his heart, and a partnership in his worldly
+goods, to more than one village beauty, each of whom had found it
+impossible to &#8216;love for antiquity&#8217;s sake,&#8217; and rejected his matrimonial
+offers accordingly. Still Tom never repined. His daily experience
+behind the counter had taught him the useful lesson, that each applicant
+does not necessarily always drive a trade, and the commodity which
+one rejects may be eagerly sought by another; and acting on the faith of
+this philosophy, he lived cheerfully on, cherishing the hope that even yet
+some fond heart would beat responsive to his own, and promise before
+the competent authority, to &#8216;love, honor and obey&#8217; him, Tom Hardesty.</p>
+
+<p>On a memorable Christmas-eve we enter his little counting-room. A
+cheerful fire blazes on the hearth; and at the moment grimalkin is
+purring on the rug. Master John, the adopted, is poring over a picture-book,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page13" name="page13"></a>13</span>probably an early edition of Peter Parley&#8217;s Travels, and Mr.
+Hardesty is standing before a broken fragment of looking-glass, diligently
+brushing his scanty locks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;John!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, turning from the mirror, and looking full
+at the boy, &#8216;do I look very old to-night?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The boy turned up his innocent face, gazed steadily on his master
+from top to toe, and answered, &#8216;Sir!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do I look very <em>old</em> to-night, John?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>John scratched his head. &#8216;Not much older than you did this time
+last night, Sir.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Humph!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, appealing to the glass, and renewing
+his efforts with the brush, while John resumed his reading.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But, John,&#8217; resumed Mr. Hardesty, seating himself beside the boy,
+&#8216;do you really think that a middle-aged lady, of right comfortable property,
+would have, <em>could</em> have, any rational objection to be called Mrs.
+Hardesty?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I think not, Sir,&#8217; replied John, taking up the cat; &#8216;I&#8217;m sure you have
+been very kind to me and old Tom here, and I know you would be so to
+her.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very true, John,&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, whose feelings were touched
+by this expression of the boy&#8217;s gratitude; &#8216;but I wish to extend the
+sphere of my usefulness; and I may venture to hope&#8212;but don&#8217;t mention
+it&#8212;that in the course of three or four years, or may-be a little
+longer, there&#8217;ll be a little boy at our house for you to play with; and if
+it&#8217;s a girl, John, you shall marry her when you get old enough. Eh,
+John! how would you like <em>that</em>?&#8217; And the old gentleman chuckled
+himself into a fit of coughing that seemed to threaten his longevity, and
+prevented John&#8217;s reply to a suggestion that had never occurred to him
+as being within the bounds of the most remote possibility.</p>
+
+<p>Having amused himself sufficiently with these flights of his fancy,
+Mr. Hardesty rose from his seat, gave John eighteen-pence for Christmas-money,
+stroked his namesake&#8217;s back, put on his cloak and cap, and
+after bidding John be a good boy, and not to mention it, and to take care
+of the fire till he came back, left the house on his errand of love.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas eve! Surely the village streets were never so gay before!
+You may know there is a moon, for though the sky is darkened with
+clouds, and the snow is falling as it never fell before, there is a glow of
+light above and around, that would burst on the eye like dim revealings
+of fairy-land, but for the mist that floats through the dim upper air, and
+seems striving to bind the earth as with a mantle.</p>
+
+<p>What a merry, merry Christmas! Gust after gust comes whirling
+on, full-freighted with the virgin snow. There are shouts of revelry
+that rise and fall with the sound of the blast. There are hurried footsteps
+that glide over the crackling snow. There are merry hearts
+within those bounding sleighs, and hands that clasp the hands they love,
+though wrapped in countless furs and muffs. Gay steeds dash on with
+steaming nostrils, as if their toil were sport; and their bells, as they ring
+cheerily out in the sombre night, give promise of marriage-bells to
+come.</p>
+
+<p>Through all this busy scene Tom Hardesty pressed on, turning neither
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page14" name="page14"></a>14</span>to the right nor left, except when he turned a corner. As the wind
+dashed the driving snow in his face, he drew his cloak more closely
+around him, and, shivering, passed on with cheerful thoughts of love
+and matrimony. Sometimes the boys pelted him with their snowy
+artillery, or old acquaintances inquired after his health, but he glided
+on like a dim shadow, heedless alike of all. By degrees the holiday
+din of the village waxed faint in his ears, and as he approached the
+suburbs, his heart beat fast while his steps were slow with indecision,
+for he was approaching the end of his pilgrimage&#8212;the dwelling of Miss
+Peggy Sidebottom.</p>
+
+<p>While Mr. Hardesty is pausing at the door, stamping the snow from
+his feet, and making the accustomed use of his pocket-handkerchief, we
+will take advantage of his delay to state, briefly, that Miss Sidebottom,
+beside being sole proprietress of the cottage-like mansion aforesaid,
+claimed also among her chattels sundry shares in bank, and certain
+notes of hand, yielding her sufficient income, without calculating the
+value of her personal charms, to make her hand and heart two very
+desirable items of furniture in a bachelor&#8217;s apartments. Her household
+consisted of herself, and a nephew and niece, christened Dick and
+Belinda, orphan children of a deceased brother. Dick was a wild,
+rattling scape-grace, as ever robbed hen-roost or melon-patch; Belinda
+was nothing, particularly, except a little, quiet, blue-eyed girl, the pride
+of her aunt, and a pattern of propriety to all little girls. That Miss
+Sidebottom was kind and motherly to the two orphans, there is no question;
+but it was rumored that in consideration thereof she enjoyed a
+comfortable legacy. It is only necessary to premise, farther, that Miss
+Sidebottom had been younger by some two-score years than she was that
+night; that she was one of Mr. Hardesty&#8217;s best customers; and that
+after long worshipping her across the counter, he had suddenly determined
+to declare his passion with all the eloquence he possessed; which
+was not inconsiderable, as many can bear witness.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty knocks and is admitted to the hall. Another door is
+opened, and there, in the snuggest corner, and by the snuggest fire conceivable,
+sits Miss Sidebottom. The opposite end of the hearth is
+decorated by Belinda, while a cat is sleeping on the rug between them.
+It was a picture of quiet happiness that touched Mr. Hardesty&#8217;s heart;
+and advancing into the room, he bows with all the elegance of a Beau
+Brummel.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sidebottom turned her eyes upon the new-comer, and as they
+fell on the familiar and smiling countenance of the grocer, she sprang
+to her feet, and exclaimed: &#8216;Why, Mr. Hardesty! I am so glad to see
+you! Let me have your cloak and cap, Sir. Come, be seated; draw
+near the fire.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty kept bowing all this time with as much nobility as
+was displayed by the famous stick that was too crooked to lie still; and
+after grasping Belinda&#8217;s hand very affectionately, he seated himself, and
+drew near the fire.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dear me! what a night!&#8217; said Miss Sidebottom; &#8216;ain&#8217;t it cold out,
+Mr. Hardesty?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty replied by shivering palpably, and said he had seen
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page15" name="page15"></a>15</span>colder, and he had seen warmer, but it would do. Having said thus
+much, he produced his snuff-box, which he extended to the ladies, and
+then helped himself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I am truly glad, Miss Peggy,&#8217; continued Tom. &#8216;to see you situated
+so comfortably&#8212;I am.&#8217; And he smiled tenderly and shifted his chair;
+but in doing so, he infringed on the cat&#8217;s tail, and the animal, as cats
+are wont to do, squalled vehemently. Mr. Hardesty bounded from his
+seat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dear me!&#8217; exclaimed Miss Sidebotton, &#8216;don&#8217;t do that!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Positively, Madam,&#8217; said Tom, &#8216;I am very sorry, indeed&#8212;I am!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Poor thing!&#8217; said Belinda, taking the injured quadruped in her arms;
+&#8216;poor thing!&#8212;did he hurt its tail?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8217;Deed, Madam,&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, stroking the animal&#8217;s back, &#8216;I
+wouldn&#8217;t have done that for forty ordinary cats. I may say, Madam,
+speaking metaphorically, that your cat is of the short-horn Durham
+stock, and wasn&#8217;t made to be trod on.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Lor&#8217;, Sir,&#8217; replied Miss Sidebottom, adjusting her cap, &#8216;cats is cats,
+and cattle is cattle&#8212;that&#8217;s my sentiments; but as I was going to say,
+Mr. Hardesty, I was telling Mrs. Jenkins to-night, not an hour ago, that
+I felt a kind of nervous kind of feeling that somebody was coming; and
+sure enough, here comes you. You see, Mrs. Jenkins was here to take
+tea with me to-night, and beside the baby, why her little Jack and Sally
+and Bill and Susan <em>would</em> come, because, they said, pap wasn&#8217;t at home,
+and they would starve if they staid there. And here, sure enough,
+come they did, before Mrs. Jenkins had fairly pulled off her bonnet;
+and stay they would, though she boxed &#8217;em well; but they didn&#8217;t mind
+that, and I told her Christmas come but once a year, and as it turned
+out, the poor things <em>were</em> hungry, in yearnest. And you never see
+children eat so; I do believe they hadn&#8217;t had a good meal for a fortnight.
+Well, we hadn&#8217;t got fairly seated after supper, when rap! rap!
+at the door, and there was Jake Crow had come for Mrs. Jenkins; for
+Jenkins had got into a drunken row, and had his head cut with a stick.
+And you never hearn sich a fuss; and Mrs. Jenkins and the little brats
+went home crying all the way; and here me and Belinda have been by
+ourselves ever since. But poor Mrs. Jenkins! I wonder men will get
+drunk and leave their wives and children to starve. <em>You</em> never get
+drunk, Mr. Hardesty, do you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Drunk! Madam, drunk!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, placing his hand over
+his heart, and shaking his head emphatically. &#8216;No, Madam; I only
+get what you may call intoxicated, and not with liquor neither; and I
+feel it coming on me now&#8212;I do indeed!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, well!&#8217; replies Mrs. Sidebottom, holding up her hands in utter
+astonishment, &#8216;I never heard tell of the like of that before. P&#8217;raps its
+the cold, Mr. Hardesty.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, Madam,&#8217; persisted the old gentleman; &#8216;it&#8217;s the heat.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dear me! Mr. Hardesty; then I&#8217;ll open the door.&#8217; And Miss Peggy
+started to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, my dear Madam, don&#8217;t, if you please. It ain&#8217;t this here fire in
+the hearth, but,&#8217; striking his breast passionately, &#8216;it&#8217;s <em>here</em>, Madam.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s just where Mrs. Jenkins is affected sometimes, and she says
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page16" name="page16"></a>16</span>Madeira&#8217;s the best thing for it; and she has drank nearly all that last
+quart I got of you, Mr. Hardesty, and I don&#8217;t see as she gets any better.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Madeira, indeed!&#8217; said old Tom, scornfully. &#8216;Madeira, madam,
+instead of squenching, would only add fuel to the flame that is consuming
+me. There <em>are</em> men as takes to the bottle for it when they despair;
+but bless your soul!&#8217; he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper,
+&#8216;I haven&#8217;t despaired.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>At this eloquent appeal, Mrs. Sidebottom looked at the fire and said
+nothing, until an audible snore from Belinda, who had fallen asleep in
+her chair, aroused her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bless me!&#8217; exclaimed Miss Peggy, bouncing to her feet; &#8216;look at
+the child there! Belinda dear, wake up. Poor dear thing! you had
+better go up stairs to bed.&#8217; And rubbing her eyes, the child took up a
+lighted candle, bowed politely to Mr. Hardesty, and disappeared behind
+the stair-door.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sidebottom resumed her seat and looked again at the fire, and
+Mr. Hardesty looked at Miss Sidebottom. Presently, that amiable lady
+turned her gaze, lighted as it was by an equivocal smile, full upon
+Tom. In the space of about fifteen seconds, after trying in vain to interpret
+that smile to his own satisfaction, Mr. Hardesty quailed, while
+his heart commenced vibrating against his ribs, as though it would
+burst their feeble barrier, and take refuge in his waistcoat-pocket. Miss
+Sidebottom, however, showed no such symptoms of alarm, and her courage
+rose as Tom&#8217;s fell. By the way, composure in such delicate
+epochs is like see-sawing; one ascends as the other descends, until perchance
+the weaker party fails to recover his equilibrium, and tumbles
+off the fence. Diffident young courtiers should remember this.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty was bewildered beyond endurance. How could a man
+speak more plainly? And yet he would try once more.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Let me tell you, my dear Miss Sidebottom, once for all, I&#8217;m&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was a noise of some one opening the front door, and as Mr.
+Hardesty turned his head, Dick entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why, Dicky, where have you been this cold night?&#8217; asked his aunt.</p>
+
+<p>Dicky replied that he had been snow-balling, of which there were
+sufficient marks on his person. His countenance was flushed and heated,
+and he proceeded to say that he was tired, and wanted to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>At this Mr. Hardesty rose deliberately from his seat, saying it was
+time to go.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But, Mr. Hardesty,&#8217; urged Miss Peggy, &#8216;it&#8217;s cold and snowing; stay
+all night there with Dicky,&#8217; pointing to a comfortable bed in one corner.
+&#8216;I know you are delicate, and it&#8217;s snowing hard. I&#8217;ll go and see.
+Here Dicky,&#8217; and she left the room followed by Dick. Mr. Hardesty
+looked around at the comfortable quarters offered him, and determined
+to remain. Scarcely had he come to this decision, when the affectionate
+aunt and nephew returned, the former telling him not to think of going
+out on such a night, and the latter assuring him it was snowing &#8216;like
+sixty.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll stay, Madam, and thank&#8217;ee too,&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, re-seating
+himself. Miss Peggy bade her guest a very good night, and, threatening
+to catch him for a Christmas gift next morning, disappeared up the stairs
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>17</span>and locked the door after her. Tom watched her retreating figure until
+she disappeared, and then addressed himself to the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Been snow-balling to-night, eh, Dicky? Fine sport, Dicky; fine
+sport.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I should say it was, Sir, when your side toes the mark and don&#8217;t run,&#8217;
+said Dick, placing his damp shoes on the hearth. &#8216;Them shoes&#8217;ll
+never run away with <em>my</em> feet in &#8217;em, certain.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, Dicky,&#8217; continued Mr. Hardesty, stirring the fire, &#8216;you&#8217;re a
+brave boy.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, Sir,&#8217; said Dick, &#8216;braver than you think for. Catch me napping
+when there&#8217;s work to do, and I am to get a pie for it in the bargain,
+will you?&#8217; The bare suggestion amused Dick, and as he divested
+himself of his damp clothes, he laughed heartily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s just what I was saying, Dicky, and was going on to add, that
+snow-balling and such like ain&#8217;t for me now, but the time was when
+none was better at them than I.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;P&#8217;raps not,&#8217; said Dick, &#8216;but as I&#8217;m rather tired, and don&#8217;t mind the
+cold, I&#8217;ll get in and warm the bed, and you can come along when you
+like;&#8217; and the light-hearted boy sprang into his nest, and in less than five
+minutes was snoring audibly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty stirred the fire, and as the myriad sparks flew up the
+chimney, he wished he had just so many dollars; he would give them
+all if <em>she</em> would but love him. Growing weary of this delusive sport,
+he looked at his watch, compared it with Miss Sidebottom&#8217;s yankee
+clock, and finding his own time-piece was just five minutes the faster,
+concluded that both were wrong just two minutes and a half, and he
+would split the difference. He might be mistaken, but if he was he
+would consult the town clock to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty resumed the poker and stirred the fire until its bright
+blaze threw a broad glare over the chamber; and out of the glowing
+coals he built strange towers and castles, and saw them change by turns
+into ashes, and grow dim like his own recent dreams of love. This being
+a melancholy contemplation, he lent his ear to a solitary cricket that
+was cheerily singing its household song, though the winds were wild
+without. Presently the cricket ceased its chirrup, and Mr. Hardesty
+growing tired of sitting, yawned, stretched himself, and walked to the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the ground was covered with a wild waste of snow, and the
+heavy flakes were still falling. Suddenly it occurred to him that somebody
+might accidentally pass that way and recognize him; so he let fall
+the curtain and walked across the room. Here, lifting his eyes from the
+floor, a looking-glass stared him in the face, and he started back.
+He turned again and walked to the bed-side where Dick was sleeping.
+The boy, he thought, might one day be his nephew, and he revolved in
+his mind a thousand schemes for advancing him in the world and making
+him a clever fellow.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty left the bed-side and looked up at the ceiling. Beyond
+that, he thought, was the adored Miss Sidebottom. What a narrow
+space sundered them! He walked to the fire-place and looked on the
+mantel for a book. He selected an old copy of Burns, and opened at
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page18" name="page18"></a>18</span>the pathetic ballad of &#8216;John Anderson.&#8217; Mr. Hardesty sat down and
+read it once aloud. Then he read it to himself over and over again,
+until he had gotten it by heart. And then by degrees the room swam
+dizzily before him, the fire glowed like a pale meteor, his eyes closed
+heavily, the open book fell from his hand, and Mr. Hardesty was asleep.</p>
+
+<p>He slept and dreamed. Smiles like those of sleeping infancy stole
+over his venerable features. In one short moment he was the happiest
+man alive; his love had been crowned with success; and putting forth
+his hand to grasp the dear shadow, he lost his balance and fell from his
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty looked around him, wondering. He resumed his seat
+and rubbed his eyes. The fire had almost gone out. The wick was long
+and dim. He looked at the clock; it wanted just twenty minutes of
+midnight.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty snuffed the candle and commenced divesting himself
+of his apparel; placed his boots beside Dicky&#8217;s shoes on the hearth;
+threw his upper garments on the back of a chair, and his nether ditto
+on the seat thereof. But his extremities were cold, he thought, and
+placing a chair bottom upward on the floor, he put his feet to the fire.</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes Mr. Hardesty stared steadily at the ceiling, beyond
+which Miss Sidebottom was sleeping in virgin security; and whether
+from the magnetic effect of his constant gaze, or the slumbrous air that
+pervaded the room, his eyelids soon closed, and he was again soundly
+asleep. The candle burned dimly on; coal after coal was turned to
+ashes; at last both went out, and still Mr. Hardesty slept.</p>
+
+<p>Presently there was a stir in the bed occupied by Dick. The boy
+rose on his pillow and looked cautiously around him. He called Mr.
+Hardesty, but there was no answer. At this Dick put one leg out of
+bed, and then the other, and stood firmly on the floor. Gliding
+cautiously over the carpet, he stooped over the sleeper, whose deep
+breathing assured him that all was safe. Then stepping softly to the
+chair on which Mr. Hardesty&#8217;s clothes were lying, he selected that gentleman&#8217;s
+nether garment, then went to the hearth and lifted the boots,
+and slipping on his own shoes, glided cautiously out of the room with
+his booty. Returning in a few minutes he again stooped over the
+sleeper, and then stole to bed, where, after laughing immoderately yet
+quietly, he was soon as fast asleep as Mr. Hardesty himself.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Hardesty awoke he found himself still reclining on the
+back of the chair. Not a little vexed with himself for lying there all
+night, he rose to his feet, and looking around, found that Dick had risen
+before him, and the bed was empty. &#8216;Why didn&#8217;t he wake me, I wonder?&#8217;
+said Mr. Hardesty.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty walked to the window, lifted the curtain, and looked
+out. The mists and clouds had cleared away, and left the sky all bright
+and blue. The sun had just risen, and was shedding his early splendor
+on the myriad snow-drops as brightly as if to atone for the darkness
+and gloom of yesterday. It was a cheerful and beautiful view; but
+Mr. Hardesty heard the sound of shuffling footsteps overhead; so he
+turned shivering from the window to dress himself for the day. &#8216;It&#8217;ll
+never do to be caught in this fix,&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page19" name="page19"></a>19</span>His first search was for his boots, but these had been taken out, as he
+supposed, to be polished. He would put on his breeches and wait for
+his boots. He cast his eye on the pile of clothes, but the breeches were
+not there. Then he looked on the floor, and in all the corners of the
+room, and then on the bed and under the bed&#8212;but in vain. &#8216;What
+the d&#8212;&#8212;l has become of my breeches!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty.</p>
+
+<p>It occurred to him at length that by some mysterious power of locomotion
+the garment had gotten into the drawer of a bureau that stood in
+one corner. He pulled at this drawer most lustily, but it was locked,
+and Miss Sidebottom had the key. To add to his discomfiture, he again
+heard the sound of footsteps overhead. He had but a moment to spare,
+and looking around for a place of retreat, his eye fell on a closet-door
+that opened beneath the stairs. Putting on hastily the remnant of his
+apparel, he presented altogether an appearance the like of which the
+writer has never seen, and will not attempt to describe, and managed to
+effect his retreat into the closet just as Miss Sidebottom and Belinda
+entered the room from above.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty applied his eye to the key-hole, but saw nothing save
+the form of either lady as it flitted from time to time across the limited
+range of his vision. Presently a conversation began between the two,
+of which, however, he could hear nothing except a confused murmur,
+and occasionally a most uproarious fit of laughter. Before long the
+merry tones of the elder lady were changed to those of anger. Miss
+Sidebottom was evidently scolding one of the servants, and then came
+reiterated sounds of castigation, interspersed with tongue-lashings, by far
+the most terrible of the two. Mr. Hardesty resigned himself to his
+fate, and was willing to endure a confinement that revealed to him the
+evil spirit that reigned within a form of so much loveliness.</p>
+
+<p>After a while came the indescribable sounds of breakfast; the rattling
+of knives and forks, and cups and saucers, suggestive to Mr. Hardesty&#8217;s
+mind of coffee, hot biscuits, and butter. Presently the table was
+cleared away, and he caught a glimpse through his key-hole of the two
+ladies, dressed in their cloaks and bonnets. In a moment they departed,
+leaving Mr. Hardesty sole proprietor.</p>
+
+<p>Each moment of this time was one of intense agony to Mr. Hardesty.
+Exposed to hunger and thirst, and cold and insult, what had he done to
+deserve such misfortunes? And that was Christmas, too; what a
+merry day to all the world without; and in what a contemptible plight
+was he! What would little Master John think of his absence; and
+how much would be sold at his little store before night? These reflections
+only enhanced the agony of his imprisonment; so wrapping himself
+tightly in the folds of his cloak, he crouched down in a corner of the
+closet, and soon fell fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty slept on until night-fall. So soon as he realized his
+situation, he determined to be a prisoner no longer, but to emerge from
+his confinement, whatever might be the danger of an exposure. Fortunately
+for him, the room was deserted. The ladies had not yet returned
+from their visit. Mr. Hardesty approached the window and
+found it quite dark without. He had little time left for deliberation, for
+he heard the sound of a key turning in the street-door lock, and recognized
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name="page20"></a>20</span>the well-known voice of Miss Sidebottom; so hoisting the window,
+he crawled rapidly through it, and leaped on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty breathed once more like a freeman; and muttering
+deep anathemas against the inhospitable house and all its inmates, he
+stole quietly along, with his bootless feet buried at each step in the snow.
+Leaving the more frequented streets, and worming his way through bypaths
+and dark alleys; now turning a corner, under the direful apprehension
+of meeting some acquaintance, and now darting this way or
+that to avoid a random snow-ball, he pursued his painful way until he
+reached home, where he knocked and was admitted by Master John.</p>
+
+<p>The grocer bolted in, rushed into his counting-room, and throwing off
+his cloak, stared wildly at the bewildered boy. &#8216;What do you think of
+that, John?&#8217; pointing to his denuded extremities. &#8216;How does that become
+your old master, Sir?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Master John, frightened partly at the anomalous appearance of the
+grocer, and partly at the sternness of his voice and manner, started
+back to the remotest corner of the room, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s the matter now, you little fool?&#8217; said his master. &#8216;Are
+you afraid of old Tom Hardesty? If you are, you needn&#8217;t be; nobody
+need be afraid of such an old coward as I am&#8212;darned if they
+need!&#8217; And feeling that he was growing melancholy, he determined to
+subdue the propensity, and to that end commenced cutting the complicated
+figure entitled a pigeon-wing. This exhilarating sport soon restored
+the grocer&#8217;s good humor, and he laughed heartily and made such a
+racket altogether, that the boy gradually approached him to inquire
+what it all meant, how he had spent his Christmas, what had become of
+his breeches, and all about it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Here, John,&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, seating himself by the fire, &#8216;sit
+here and I&#8217;ll tell you all about it. But what an old fool I am! Here&#8217;s
+twenty-four blessed hours gone, and the d&#8212;&#8212;l a bit or a drop have I had
+since last night at supper. Is this my house or not, John? for I&#8217;ve
+forgot every thing except one, and wouldn&#8217;t swear I ain&#8217;t dreaming,
+and haven&#8217;t been all day.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The boy gave him every assurance that he was at home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, John,&#8217; pursued the master, &#8216;I think the last time I was here&#8212;it
+may be a year, or it may be more&#8212;I&#8217;ll be hanged if I know&#8212;but I
+rather think there was a lot of prime cheese, and a few barrels of
+crackers. You haven&#8217;t sold &#8217;em all, John?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>John smiled, and answered negatively.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I rather think, too, there were several casks of best three-year-old
+whiskey, prime lot; any of <em>that</em> left, John?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>John pointed, in reply, to a row of casks in one corner that answered
+the description.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No! stop, Sir!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, soliloquizing; &#8216;I think she said
+Madeira was good for it. Yes, John, I&#8217;ll take a little of the Madeira,
+if you&#8217;ve any on hand.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>John opened a cupboard door, and producing a black quart-bottle,
+assured Mr. Hardesty it was nearly full.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;ll do, Sir,&#8217; said the grocer. &#8216;Set the table; never mind the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page21" name="page21"></a>21</span>cloth. Crackers and cheese and old Madeira, and &#8216;away with melancholy.&#8217;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the table was spread according to directions, after
+which Mr. Hardesty seated himself near it and did ample justice to the
+simple fare.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You see, John,&#8217; said the old gentleman, when his appetite was somewhat
+assuaged, &#8216;it&#8217;s all on account of that old, ugly, and infernal Peggy
+Sidebottom. Here&#8217;s hoping she may&#8212;may never drown her sorrows
+in the flowing bowl!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The grocer drank this toast with infinite gusto and replenished his glass.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, Sir, as I was about saying, I went there last night to spend an
+hour in a little sociable chat, and was about taking leave&#8212;&#8212;&#8217; At this
+point the speaker was interrupted by several violent raps at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Who&#8217;s that?&#8217; inquired Mr. Hardesty, draining his glass.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s me,&#8217; said a voice from without.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What do you want?&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Nothin&#8217;; what do <em>you</em> want?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Who the d&#8212;&#8212;l are you?&#8217; said the grocer, in a voice of thunder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dick!&#8217; replied the voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dick what?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dick Sidebottom!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What do you want here?&#8217; said the grocer, rising and pacing the
+floor. &#8216;John, where&#8217;s my cow-hide? Clear yourself, you little rascal,
+or I&#8217;ll&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But I&#8217;ve got your breeches and your boots, Sir,&#8217; said Dick.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh! you <em>have</em>, have you?&#8217;&#8212;and Mr. Hardesty threw aside the cow-hide,
+and opened the door. Dick marched boldly in, deposited his
+plunder on a chair, and then looked Mr. Hardesty full in the face with
+a glance of perfect innocence. The owner of the recovered booty
+picked them up, examined them closely to satisfy himself of their identity,
+and without saying a word, put them on in their appropriate places.
+This done, he surveyed himself with a smile of approbation, and felt
+that he was indeed Mr. Hardesty once more. After helping Dick to a
+highly sweetened draught from the contents of the black bottle, he
+begged of him a detailed account of the affair of the lost boots and
+breeches. This Dick proceeded to give; by telling, in his peculiar and
+highly figurative manner, how his aunt had first suggested the feat to
+him; how he had risen while Mr. Hardesty was asleep, secured the
+booty, and hid it in an adjoining hay-loft; how his aunt had promised
+him a Christmas pie, and though often requested thereto, had failed to
+comply; how she had inflicted personal chastisement on him for some
+trivial offence; and how, on reflecting what a kind-hearted old gentleman
+Mr. Hardesty was, and what a crabbed old thing Aunt Peggy was,
+he had repented of his theft, and determined to make restitution at the
+earliest opportunity; &#8216;and there they are on you,&#8217; said Dick, in conclusion,
+&#8216;and that&#8217;s all about it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty listened with due attention to this detail, and then sat
+for some time in silence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And you can swear to all this in a court of justice, can you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Certainly, Sir.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>22</span>&#8216;And you&#8217;ll do it when called on?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Dick bowed his head in assent.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Good!&#8217; said Mr. Hardesty, grasping the boy&#8217;s hand. &#8216;Take a little
+more of this,&#8217; he continued, filling Dick&#8217;s glass. &#8216;Your aunt shall suffer
+for this yet, if there&#8217;s any law or justice in the land.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ain&#8217;t there no law,&#8217; inquired Dick, pausing in his draught, &#8216;for
+suing an old lady for &#8217;sault and batterhim?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, Dicky, I fear not in your case; but if I get any damages, I&#8217;ll
+give you half.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Dick drained the contents of his glass, and shaking hands most cordially
+with Mr. Hardesty and Master John, bade them good night. It
+is scarcely necessary to add, that the last surviving male heir of the
+Sidebottoms was gloriously drunk in less than an hour, and made such
+a demonstration of that fact to his sober and discreet aunt, that she
+caused his head to be soused repeatedly in cold water, and then flogged
+him into sobriety.</p>
+
+<p>It is not to be supposed that the disappearance of the village grocer
+from his usual post for a whole day together, and particularly on Christmas,
+that busiest of all days, failed to excite a degree of general curiosity
+and inquisitiveness as to the cause of his absence; but to the
+many inquiries of his friends touching that subject, he only replied by
+shaking his head and saying that time would show. Enough had leaked
+out, however, to satisfy the public that the affair was shrouded in a
+mystery that was worth the trouble of penetrating; so that when on the
+morning of the first of January immediately succeeding the year that
+had just closed, Mr. Thomas Hardesty and Miss Margaret Sidebottom
+were summoned each by three lusty cheers from the town-crier to appear
+before his worship the police judge of Idleberg, the populace rushed to
+the scene of judicial conflict, until the humble and contracted audience-chamber
+was crowded to overflowing.</p>
+
+<p>The witnesses summoned in the case were Mrs. Jenkins, Jake Crow,
+and Master Dick Sidebottom. In due time the defendant came into
+court, leaning on the arm of her next friend and privy counsellor, Mrs.
+Jenkins, who as usual was attended by a bevy of young Jenkinses.
+Before embarking in this trying embassy, the ladies, by the way, had
+gone to the Madeira bottle; the one complaining of a pain in the breast,
+and the other of general nervousness. Mr. Hardesty was unattended,
+and so were his remaining witnesses.</p>
+
+<p>The warrant gravely charged the defendant with stealing or causing
+to be stolen from the plaintiff, on the night of the twenty-fourth of December
+last past, a pair of boots and a pair of breeches, whose respective
+values were duly set forth. The reading of this document created quite
+a sensation throughout the court-room. Mrs. Jenkins was called and
+sworn. She deposed that on the night specified in the warrant, she had
+taken tea at the defendant&#8217;s house; that she was suddenly called home,
+missing thereby a great deal of anticipated pleasure; that the defendant
+passed the next day, being Christmas-day, at her (witness&#8217;s)
+house; and witness did not at any time see defendant steal or cause to
+be stolen from plaintiff the said boots and breeches, nor did she believe
+Miss Sidebottom to be capable of such an act; &#8216;and particular,&#8217; she
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page23" name="page23"></a>23</span>said in conclusion, &#8216;from such a pitiful old scamp as Tom Hardesty;&#8217;
+and glancing around triumphantly at the audience, and scornfully at
+the plaintiff, she waited for the court&#8217;s cross-questions.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is that all you know about the case, Madam?&#8217; inquired his worship,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>That was all.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You can retire. Call Jake Crow.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Crow stood in no need of being called, as he marched up to the
+judge immediately, and deposed that on the last Christmas-eve night,
+he had called at defendant&#8217;s house for Mrs. Jenkins, as old Jenkins had
+been knocked on the head and carried home drunk. (At this Mrs.
+Jenkins looked like a carnation pink, and commenced fanning herself
+violently with her pocket-handkerchief.) Witness, however, did not
+enter the house, and knew nothing whatever of the matter in dispute.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You can retire, Mr. Crow. Call Richard Sidebottom.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Dick had managed, with his usual restlessness, to retire some time before
+this from the crowded room, and was breathing the pure air and
+playing his boyish pranks in a distant part of the town. The officer
+who was despatched for the young gentlemen returned presently, lugging
+him by the coat-collar. After being introduced to the court by the
+usual solemnities, Dick proceeded to give in detail the events of the
+memorable night, as already known to the reader. He also gave an interesting
+account of the defendant&#8217;s oft-repeated cruelties to himself
+personally; how on Christmas night he had restored the stolen articles
+to plaintiff, and how the rightful proprietor was wearing the same in
+court.</p>
+
+<p>A general hurrah and stamping of feet succeeded the delivery of this
+testimony; at which the judge frowned, and the constable cried &#8216;Order!&#8217;
+with all his lungs.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mr. Hardesty,&#8217; said the judge, when order was restored, &#8216;do you
+feel disposed to prosecute this suit? I fear I must dismiss the warrant,
+on the ground that the court can furnish no relief in the case. What
+say you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardesty arose. &#8216;May it please your worship, the time was,
+and I care not who knows it, when I entertained for the defendant in
+this cause feelings of the most profound respect and admiration. And
+I had been led to hope that my passion was not altogether disregarded;
+that Miss Sidebottom would one day become Mrs. Hardesty. And this,
+Sir, as detailed to you by the last witness, her own nephew, is the treatment
+I have received!&#8217; The speaker paused and applied his pocket
+handkerchief to his eyes. The audience was touched. &#8216;It ain&#8217;t the
+temporary loss of my breeches; it ain&#8217;t the long weary hours I spent
+shivering in that closet; it ain&#8217;t the wading home bare-footed in the
+snow; it ain&#8217;t the finger of scorn some gentlemen may p&#8217;int at me now,
+that wounds my heart; but it&#8217;s feeling and knowing that the woman I
+loved better than my own life; the woman I would have lived for, or
+died for, to make her happy; that that very woman&#8212;&#8212;&#8217; He could say
+no more; his feelings overpowered him, and he sat down.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sidebottom&#8217;s sympathies were evidently touched throughout this
+harangue. Until now, she had been rocking to and fro in her seat, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" name="page24"></a>24</span>when Mr. Hardesty concluded, she rushed through the crowd, threw herself
+on his neck, and kissed him passionately.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Clear the room!&#8217; bawled his worship, starting to his feet. &#8216;Clerk,&#8217;
+he continued, addressing that official personage, who was standing near,
+&#8216;write me a license to unite Thomas Hardesty and Margaret Sidebottom
+in the holy bands of matrimony. I know they are of age, and don&#8217;t
+need any guardeens.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The judge sat down, convulsed by his own wit, while the clerk proceeded
+to his task. The loving pair looked up and smiled through their
+tears. &#8216;I loved you, Tom, all the time; I did indeed. It was all in
+fun, dear man&#8212;indeed it was!&#8217; Tom Hardesty threw his arms around
+her neck, and pressed her head to his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Come!&#8217; said his worship, after reading the license, &#8216;none of your
+hysterics here, but stand up and be married.&#8217; And married they were;
+and the bride, in consideration of her cruelty, paid the costs of the suit
+and the marriage fees; and off they marched homeward, amid the
+deafening huzzas of the multitude that was gathered in the street.</p>
+
+<p>Happy New-Year! that sealed Tom Hardesty&#8217;s happiness! Many
+a changing season has come and gone since then, and nobody knows
+but they are the happiest couple in Idleberg. Mr. Hardesty&#8217;s first domestic
+advice to his bride was to decline Mrs. Jenkins&#8217;s farther acquaintance,
+which she did most readily. The old gentleman has long
+since despaired of having an heir direct, but has promised John, who is
+prospering behind his old master&#8217;s counter, that he and Belinda shall
+marry before long. Mr. Richard Sidebottom is one of the &#8216;reformed
+drunkards,&#8217; and eschews Madeira especially. He is now an attorney,
+<i>in embryo</i>, and gives ample promise of carrying into his profession all
+the acuteness and cunning which distinguished his exploits on the memorable
+night that opened this chapter in the biography of Mr. Tom
+Hardesty.</p>
+
+</div><!--The Idleberg Papers-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">WINTER EVENING.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">The</span> fire is burning cheerly bright, the room is snug and warm,</p>
+<p>We keep afar the wintry night, and drive away the storm;</p>
+<p>And when without the wanderer pines, and all is dark and chill,</p>
+<p>We sit securely by the fire, and sparkling glasses fill.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And ever as the hollow wind howls through the moaning trees,</p>
+<p>Strange feelings on the boding heart with sudden chillness seize:</p>
+<p>But brightly blazes then the hearth, and freely flows the wine;</p>
+<p>And laugh of glee, and song of mirth, then wreathe their merry twine.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>We think not how the dashing sleet beats on the crusted pane,</p>
+<p>We care not though the drifting snow whirls o&#8217;er the heath amain;</p>
+<p>But haply, while our hearts are bright, far struggling through the waste,</p>
+<p>Some traveller seeks our window&#8217;s light, with long and fruitless haste.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Hark his halloo! we leave the fire, and hurry forth to save:</p>
+<p>A short half hour, and he had found beneath the snow a grave.</p>
+<p>Pile on the wood!&#8212;feed high the flame!&#8212;bring out our choicest store!</p>
+<p>The traveller&#8217;s heart grows warm again; his spirit droops no more.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">J. G. P.</span></p>
+</div><!--Winter Evening-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page25" name="page25"></a>25</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">SONG OF THE NEW YEAR.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">BY MRS. R. S. NICHOLS.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">I have</span> come, I have come from a shadowy clime,</p>
+<p>An heir of the monarch Earth&#8217;s children call <span class="special_name">Time</span>;</p>
+<p>With years yet unborn, I have stood in the hall</p>
+<p>That was reared by our sire, awaiting his call:</p>
+<p>Last eve, as I lay on his bosom at rest,</p>
+<p>I saw slowly rise a white cloud in the west;</p>
+<p>Now through the blue ether, through regions of space,</p>
+<p>It floated up softly, with fairy-like grace,</p>
+<p>And paused &#8217;neath the light of the white-shining stars,</p>
+<p>Whose rays pierced its centre, like clear silver bars;</p>
+<p>The winds revelled round it, unchecked in their mirth,</p>
+<p>As it hung, like a banner, &#8217;mid heaven and earth.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The soft fleecy folds of the clouds swept aside,</p>
+<p>The winds ceased their revels, and mournfully sighed;</p>
+<p>A car slowly rolled down the pathway of Time,</p>
+<p>A bell slowly tolled a funereal chime:</p>
+<p>A sound in the air, and a wail on the breeze,</p>
+<p>Swift as wave follows wave on tempest-tossed seas;</p>
+<p>Thin shadows swept by in that funeral train,</p>
+<p>As glide o&#8217;er old battle-grounds ghosts of the slain.</p>
+<p>I saw the dim spectres of long-buried years&#8212;</p>
+<p>The Seasons close followed, in mourning and tears.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Arrayed in his armor, death-darts in his hand,</p>
+<p>The grim King of Terrors strode on with the band,</p>
+<p>While cold, stark and ghastly, there lay on his bier</p>
+<p>The death-stricken form of the hoary <span class="special_name">Old Year</span>!</p>
+<p>How bent was his figure, how furrowed his brow,</p>
+<p>How weary he looked from his pilgrimage now!</p>
+<p>The phantoms of Passion, of Hope and Despair,</p>
+<p>With dark, waving plumage, encircled him there;</p>
+<p>The Months stood around, and the bright dancing Hours</p>
+<p>On spirit-wings floated, like birds among flowers.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A voice sweet as music now smote on my ear:</p>
+<p>&#8216;Go forth in thy beauty, thou unspotted Year!</p>
+<p>The old Year hath died &#8216;mid rejoicings and mirth,</p>
+<p>That rocked the stern heart of the rugged old Earth!</p>
+<p>The midnight is passing; away to thy car!</p>
+<p>Thou&#8217;lt sail by the lustre of morning&#8217;s bright star;</p>
+<p>Away!&#8217; And I rose from the bosom of Time,</p>
+<p>And fled through the gates of that shadowy clime;</p>
+<p>My car sped along on the wings of the wind,</p>
+<p>While Winter, old man! tottered slowly behind.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The sky&#8217;s eastern portals impeded my flight,</p>
+<p>When Morning rose up from the arms of the Night;</p>
+<p>The dawn faintly glowed, and I saw the old Earth,</p>
+<p>And sailed in my kingdom, a monarch at birth!</p>
+<p>&#8216;Then give me wild music, the dance and the song,</p>
+<p>For ever!&#8217; I shouted, while whirling along:</p>
+<p>&#8216;I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,</p>
+<p>A breath of the monarch Earth&#8217;s children call <span class="special_name">Time</span>!&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="location">Cincinnati, December, 1843.</span></p>
+</div><!--Song of the New Year-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page26" name="page26"></a>26</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">ON COLOUR.</h2>
+<div class="epigram">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Full</span> angel-like the birdis sang their hours<a href="#fn1" id="fnm1" class="fnmarker" title="Heures, prayers.">1</a></p>
+<p>Within their curtains green, within their bowers</p>
+<p class="i4">Apparelled with white and red, with bloomys sweet.</p>
+<p>Enamell&#8217;d was the field with all coloùrs:</p>
+<p>The pearlit drops shook as in silver showers,</p>
+<p class="i4">While all in balm did branche and leavis fleit.<a href="#fn2" id="fnm2" class="fnmarker" title="Float.">2</a></p>
+<p class="i4">Depart fra&#8217; Phœbus did Aurora greit;</p>
+<p>Her chrystal tears I saw hing on the flowers</p>
+<p class="i4">Which he, for love, all drank up with his heat.</p>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">Dunbar.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="">
+<ol>
+<li>The <span class="special_name">Lord</span> is my shepherd; I shall not want.</li>
+<li>He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul.</li>
+</ol>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">A Psalm of David.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="first_word">As</span> I walk over the surface of this fair Earth, an erring and a wayward
+being, at times dejected by the trials of a solitary and an almost
+abortive life, or sustained or elevated by its prosperous incidents; I
+sometimes think that no one other blessing of existence hath ever comforted
+my heart and restored my soul so much, as the pleasures and delights
+of <span class="special_name">Colour</span>. It is my wealth, my joy, my faculty, my fountain!</p>
+
+<p>The recreative pleasure that others find in Music, although this is not
+denied is less to me than to them, a restorative and a balm. Music
+excites, arouses me; melts me into weakness, or animates me into passionate
+exertion; but it is in the green pasture and beside the still
+waters, in bowers apparelled with white and red; it is in the tints with
+which autumn is bedecked, and Day expires; that I feel I shall not
+want, and that <span class="special_name">God</span> restoreth my soul! And it is among huge and solitary
+mountain masses of grey castellated rock, in the crevices of which
+the stinted pine, and the cedar with its brown and tattered trunk, struggle
+out a hard and scanty existence and are yet covered with never-fading
+verdure&#8212;mountains to which the Saviour of mankind might
+have retired to meditate and pray&#8212;that I feel that the Lord is my
+Shepherd, and shall bring me to the green pastures, and lead me beside
+the still waters; my Rock! my fortress! and my high tower!</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes my heart takes a fancy altogether for <em>brown</em> hues; and
+as you cannot at all times command these in the country, I seat myself
+down quietly in front of a precious Cuyp with which <span class="special_name">God</span> hath endowed
+me, and that (except the sky and water) is composed entirely of them
+in every gradation and shade; and when I rise up from the contemplation
+of it, I feel that it is in brown hues that <span class="special_name">God</span> restoreth my soul.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes I dwell upon the silvery trunk of the birch-tree, or upon
+the darker hue of the beech. Sometimes my soul drinks the full beauties
+of the umbrageous chestnut; or revels in the golden berries, and
+the graceful branches that seem overladen with them, of the mountain-ash.
+As I grow old I wave often in the grey pendulous mosses of the
+South, or stand in thought under the gigantick branches of the live oak,
+with all its leaves of laurel, and its heroick gesture. <span class="special_name">Good God</span>! I say,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a>27</span>when I think that we might all have been born, ate, drank, smoked,
+grown up, built, propagated, and died, as thoroughly and effectually
+as we now do, and all these precious objects of our sight and joy been
+made for us&#8212;out of the one desolate colour of an old pipe!</p>
+
+<p>And <span class="special_name">Water</span>&#8212;that element of Life, that upon the plaintain-leaf looks
+so like a molten mass of diamond that you can hardly persuade yourself
+it is aught else, might as well have been created of a mere drab quaker-colour;
+or not even as bright as a bit of Quartz Rock! and yet have
+satisfied our thirst as well as if it had gushed forth from the limpid
+sources of the Croton; or been drawn from the transparent body of Lake
+George; or from those mountain streams of sparkling chrystal that, in
+alternate shade and gleams of light of tropical brilliancy, bound and
+gush and dance their way downward from rock to rock to the sound of
+their own musick, and make themselves into rivers of joy as they descend
+along the <i>Grand Etang</i> of the Island of Grenada!</p>
+
+<p>And <span class="special_name">Wine</span>, that <span class="special_name">God</span> hath sent to make glad the heart of man, and
+hath blessed it in the cup; and which might perhaps have had the same
+hilarious effect, though it were of the dingy colour of the ashes of the
+grate by which I sit; but which, for our more perfect happiness, He
+hath made to outvie the Topaz and the Ruby, in its lustre and its
+varied hue!</p>
+
+<p>There are many of us who have this one quality, the love of colour,
+in common with the magnificent <span class="special_name">David</span>, whose precious inspiration I
+have quoted at the head of my Essay, and who in a thousand passages
+interweaves it like a golden thread amid his works; but as in the minds
+of many others, it may be a blessing only half appreciated, I have
+thought that a few words upon this subject might fall not unfruitfully
+upon the heart, perchance of some one young Reader of this article, just
+opening to the knowledge of this peculiar work of the great Master of
+mankind, <span class="special_name">Colour</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Even Music, although itself an occupation revealed to us as of the
+Angels of Light, is, except perhaps as they enjoy it&#8212;with whom poetry
+and modulated sound adapted to the thought are inseparably one&#8212;even
+music is less refined, less gentle, perfect, unobtrusive. For the
+enjoyment of Colour involves no possible interruption of another&#8217;s tastes;
+no outbreak upon the quiet stillness of the day; no intrusion on &#8216;the
+ear of night;&#8217; nor yet any expression, that by pouring abroad the sensations,
+might diminish the deep earnestness of the soul; which, all
+sight, all ear, becomes the Recipient. The enjoyment of colour is the
+Spirit within us listening to the language of <span class="special_name">God</span>! to the mute expression
+of His unspeakable Love! <span class="special_name">Colour</span>&#8212;the conception He hath
+chosen for His bow of promise in the Heavens! by which He decorates
+the Earth, and tells of Himself in the ocean, and in the sky, and by
+which He restoreth the Soul of man!</p>
+
+<p>And in that state of celestial existence which attends the redeemed
+Soul disenthralled from &#8216;the body of this death,&#8217; is it to be doubted, that
+among the joys that &#8216;the eye hath never seen, nor the heart conceived,&#8217;
+there exist colours beautiful beyond all earthly wealth of imagination;
+beyond the poet&#8217;s fancy and the painter&#8217;s dream? There where the
+pure gold of which the city is constructed, is transparent as glass, and
+each gate is one pearl, and the very foundations of the walls are of
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page28" name="page28"></a>28</span>jasper, and chalcedony, sapphire, emerald, ruby, amethyst and topaz;
+and the glory of <span class="special_name">God</span> is the light that lightens it!</p>
+
+<p>But it is not to another world that the joys of colour are postponed,
+nor even to another climate that we need look for the precious satisfaction
+that they impart. We have not the carpets of flowers of rainbow
+tints, that spread themselves over whole prairies of Texas and Mexico,
+but what a gem upon the bosom of Earth when it is unexpectedly
+found among us is the blue campanula! And the small white lily of the
+valley, sheltered and concealed in its green leaves like a hidden tear of
+Joy, and almost as rare! And the bright and graceful lobelia cardinalis
+that loves the neighbourhood of the still waters. And the fringed gentian
+of a tint so cerulean that our true poet derives it from the firmament;
+as his own spirit, if left to approach its kindred element, might claim
+affinity with the overshadowing expanse of celestial life!<a href="#fn3" class="fnmarker" id="fnm3" title="This allusion is to BRYANT’S lines...">3</a></p>
+
+<p>I speak not to thee of the gorgeous sunsets and of those piles of
+massy clouds of living and ever-varying colours on which the Day
+pillows himself to rest in a luxurious repose; but open thine heart upon
+the Eastern bank of the Hudson at the grey of morning, and look with
+the Sun upon the opposite shore; and as the mists arise and are dispelled
+from before thee, there shall come change after change of colour
+neutral and calm and slowly warming into beauty, until a violet haze
+shall rest upon the hill-tops and the cliffs that might outvie the golden
+haze of Italy, and that shall raise thy thoughts in silent thankfulness,
+and educate thee to enjoy the untold treasuries of colour that glow in
+upper Heaven; and hope shall spring forth renewed within thee; and
+sorrow shall fade from thy widowed, or thy childless heart; the peace
+which passeth understanding shall come over thee; and <span class="special_name">God</span> even
+thine own <span class="special_name">God</span> shall bless thee; and to thine eyes, now opened to the
+wonders of His goodness, all the ends of the Earth shall <em>shew forth</em> His
+praise!</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">John Waters.</span></p>
+</div><!--On Colour-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page29" name="page29"></a>29</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">STANZAS</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle">SUGGESTED BY GLIDDON'S LECTURES ON THE ANTIQUITIES OF EGYPT.</h3>
+<h3 class="byline">MISS H. J. WOODMAN</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Sublime</span> hath been thy conquest o&#8217;er the past,</p>
+<p class="i2">Stemming Oblivion&#8217;s torrent by thy might,</p>
+<p>Reading symbolic records long o&#8217;ercast</p>
+<p class="i2">By the deep shadows of unbroken night;</p>
+<p>Tracing with reverent finger names of kings</p>
+<p>That long had slumbered with forgotten things.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The mists that deeply veiled historic rays,</p>
+<p class="i2">Thou art dispelling with resistless hand;</p>
+<p>And dynasties that flourished ere the days</p>
+<p class="i2">When <span class="special_name">Abraham</span> forsook the promised land,</p>
+<p>No longer noteless, nameless, boldly claim</p>
+<p>Their lofty tablet in the arch of fame.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thy curious finger with a magic key</p>
+<p class="i2">Unlocked the store of ages, and the light,</p>
+<p>Flooding the pass of time, sublime and free,</p>
+<p class="i2">Decks ruined temples in its vesture bright:</p>
+<p>These are the relics of <em>thy</em> grandeur flown,</p>
+<p>Land of the Pharaohs and their prostrate throne.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Ere the white stranger&#8217;s land had trodden been</p>
+<p class="i2">By foot of pilgrim, Egypt sat supreme,</p>
+<p>Queen of the nations, and her realm within</p>
+<p class="i2">Wealth, learning, power convened&#8212;a full, deep stream!</p>
+<p>The bulwarks of her throne were safely reared</p>
+<p>In hearts by which her greatness was revered.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And now, with Science for his trusty guide,</p>
+<p class="i2">The stranger comes to read her mystic lore,</p>
+<p>Tread her deserted cities, stand beside</p>
+<p class="i2">Her sculptured temples, eloquent once more;</p>
+<p>Not with man&#8217;s voice, but with the nobler speech</p>
+<p>Of days beyond our spirit&#8217;s utmost reach.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And those proud monuments of youthful time,</p>
+<p class="i2">The pyramids, whose lofty sides have borne</p>
+<p>The storms of centuries in that fierce clime,</p>
+<p class="i2">And seeming still to smile in speechless scorn,</p>
+<p>When bow the everlasting hills with age,</p>
+<p>Then shall they vanish from the world&#8217;s bright page.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A mournful ruin to thy utmost bound,</p>
+<p class="i2">A type of glory long since passed away,</p>
+<p>The statue voiceless whence the thrilling sound</p>
+<p class="i2">Of gushing music hailed the rising day;</p>
+<p>Thus art thou now, oh Egypt! but the flame</p>
+<p>Of new-born Science gilds thine ancient name.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And from the dust shalt thou arise once more,</p>
+<p class="i2">Not by thine own degenerate sons upreared,</p>
+<p>But strangers who have sought thy verdant shore</p>
+<p class="i2">Shall hail thy fallen greatness, still revered;</p>
+<p>Until among the kingdoms of the earth</p>
+<p>Thou shalt appear renewed&#8212;a second birth!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div><!--Stanzas on Egyptian Antiquities-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page30" name="page30"></a>30</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle fancy">Harry Harson.</h3>
+<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER NINETEENTH.</h4>
+<p><span class="first_word">Notwithstanding</span> his having made what most persons would have
+considered a hearty meal at Harry Harson&#8217;s, Mr. Kornicker had nevertheless
+such perfect reliance on his own peculiar gastronomic abilities,
+that he did not in the least shrink from again testing them. Leaving
+Michael Rust&#8217;s presence with an alacrity which bordered upon haste,
+he descended into the refectory with somewhat of a jaunty air, humming
+a tune, and keeping time to it by an occasional flourish of the fingers.
+Having seated himself, his first act was to shut his eyes, thrust his feet
+at full length under the table; plunge both hands to the very bottom of
+his breeches-pockets, where they grasped spasmodically two cents and
+a small key, and laugh silently for more than a minute, occasionally
+breaking in upon his merriment to gossip to himself in the most profound
+and mysterious manner.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A queer dog! a very queer dog! d&#8212;&#8212;d queer, old Michael is!
+Well, that&#8217;s <em>his</em> business, not mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>As soon as this idea had fully impressed itself upon him, he sat up,
+became grave, and looked about in search of the waiter. In doing so,
+he encountered the eyes of a short fat man at a table near him, who at
+the first glance seemed to be reading a newspaper, but at the second,
+seemed to be reconnoitering him over it. Mr. Kornicker observing this,
+not only returned his glance, but added a wink to it by way of interest.
+The man thereupon laid down his paper, and nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker nodded in reply; and said he hoped he was well, and
+that his wife and small children were equally fortunate.</p>
+
+<p>The face of the stranger was a round, jolly face, with two little eyes
+that twinkled and glistened between their fat lids, as if they were very
+devils for fun; and his whole appearance was cozy and comfortable.
+His chin was double; his stomach round and plump, with an air of
+respectability; and he occasionally passed his hand over it, as if to say:
+&#8216;Ah ha! beat that who can!&#8217; But notwithstanding his merry look, at
+this last remark his face grew long; and with a melancholy shake of
+his head, he pointed to his hat which hung on a peg above him, and was
+swathed in a broad band of crape, terminating in two stiff skirts projecting
+from it like a rudder, and giving it the appearance of a corpulent
+butterfly in mourning, at roost on the wall.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ah!&#8217; said Mr. Kornicker, looking at the hat, &#8216;that&#8217;s it?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; replied the stranger, with a deep sigh, &#8216;that&#8217;s it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Father?&#8217; inquired Mr. Kornicker, nodding significantly toward the
+hat.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page31" name="page31"></a>31</span>&#8216;No&#8212;wife,&#8217; replied the other.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dead?&#8217; inquired Mr. Kornicker.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dead as a hammer.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Was it long or short? consumption or fits?&#8217; asked Mr. Kornicker,
+drawing up his feet and turning so as to face the stranger, by way of
+evincing the interest which he felt in his melancholy situation.</p>
+
+<p>The man shook his head, and was so affected that he was troubled
+with a temporary cold in his head; which, having alleviated by the aid
+of his handkerchief, he said: &#8216;Poor woman! She undertook to present
+me with a fine boy, last week, and it proved too much for her. It exhausted
+her animal natur&#8217;, and she decamped on a sudden. She was a
+very fine woman&#8212;a very fine woman. I always <em>said</em> she was.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And the child?&#8217; inquired Kornicker; &#8216;I hope it&#8217;s well.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Quite well, I thank you. It went along with her. They are both
+better off; saints in heaven, both of &#8217;em; out of this wale of tears.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker told him to cheer up. He said that every man had a
+crook in his lot. Some men had big crooks, and some men had little
+crooks; and although this crook made rather a bad elbow in his lot,
+that perhaps all the rest was square and straight, and he could build on
+it to advantage, especially if it was twenty-five feet by a hundred,
+which was the ordinary width and length of &#8216;lots in general.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Having delivered himself of this rather confused allegory, Mr. Kornicker,
+by way of farther consolation, drew out his snuff-box, and
+stretching out as far as was possible without falling from his chair,
+tendered it to the stranger, who in return leaning so far forward as
+slightly to raise his person from the chair, gently inserted his fingers in
+the box, and helped himself to a pinch, at the same time remarking,
+that it &#8216;was a great comfort, in his trying situation, to find friends who
+sympathized with his misfortunes. That he <em>had</em> found it so; and that
+Mr. Kornicker was a man whose feelings did credit to human natur&#8217;.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kornicker disclaimed being any thing above the ordinary run of men,
+or that his feelings were more than every other man possessed, or ought
+to possess. But the stranger was vehement in his assertions to the contrary;
+so much so, that he rose from his seat, and drawing a chair to
+the opposite side of Kornicker&#8217;s table, proposed that they should breakfast
+together.</p>
+
+<p>Kornicker shook his head:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s against the agreement,&#8217; said he; &#8216;it can&#8217;t be done.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But it <em>can</em>, Sir&#8212;it <em>shall</em>, Sir! A man of your sympathies is not to
+be met with every day, and must be breakfasted with, whether he will
+or not&#8212;agreement or no agreement. Don&#8217;t agreement me!&#8217; said the
+stranger, lifting up his chair and setting it down opposite Kornicker,
+with great emphasis. &#8216;What&#8217;s the natur&#8217; of this agreement?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker assumed a very grave and legal expression of countenance,
+and without replying, asked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s your name?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ezra Scrake.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I, Edward Kornicker, forbid you, Ezra Scrake, from breakfasting
+with me, telling you that it is contrary to a certain agreement, referred
+to but not set forth; and I now repeat the request, that you forthwith
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a>32</span>retire to another table, and that I be permitted to take my meal by myself.&#8217;
+He threw himself back in his chair, and looked Mr. Scrake full
+in the face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And I, Ezra Scrake, say that I <em>won&#8217;t</em> leave this table, and that I
+<em>will</em> breakfast with a fellow whose benevolence might warm the witals
+of a tiger.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very well, Sir,&#8217; said Kornicker, relaxing from his former severe
+expression; &#8216;I&#8217;ve done my duty. Old Rust can&#8217;t blame me. The
+breach of contract is not on my part. I&#8217;m acting under compulsion.
+Just recollect that I desired you to leave me, in case it gets me into hot
+water, and that you refused; that&#8217;s all. Now old fellow, what&#8217;ll you
+take? Only recollect, that each man rides his own pony.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger nodded, and said that of course he would &#8216;foot his own
+bill.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>These preliminaries being settled, the boy, who had been standing at
+their elbow in a state of ecstatic delight at the proceedings of Mr. Kornicker,
+with whom he had become familiar, and whom he regarded as a
+gentleman of great legal acumen, and in all other respects as rather a
+&#8216;tall boy,&#8217; was desired by the stranger to hand him the bill of fare, and
+not to keep him waiting all day. Having been gratified in this respect,
+Mr. Scrake commenced at the top and deliberately whispered his way
+to the bottom of the list.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Beef-steak; shall I say for two?&#8217; asked he, looking up at Kornicker.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, but always under protest, as to our breakfasting together,&#8217; said
+Mr. Kornicker, winking at him. &#8216;Don&#8217;t forget that.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Of course. Now, my son, what trimmings have you got?&#8217; said he
+to the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8217;Taters.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Are they kidneys, blue-noses, or fox?&#8212;and will they bu&#8217;st open
+white and mealy?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;They&#8217;m prime,&#8217; replied the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bring one for me; or, stop&#8212;are they extra?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We throws them in with the steak, gratis.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Then bring a dishful, with coffee, bread, and whatever else adds to
+the breakfast, without adding to the bill.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The boy, having no other interest in the establishment than that of
+securing his own wages and meals, was highly delighted at this considerate
+order of Mr. Scrake, and forthwith disappeared to obey it.</p>
+
+<p>In the meanwhile Mr. Scrake, after having deliberately re-perused
+the bill of fare, and not observing any thing else which could be got for
+nothing, laid it down, and looking at Mr. Kornicker, who was gazing
+abstractedly at the table-cloth, said that he hoped he (Mr. Scrake) was
+not going to be impertinent; and as Mr. Kornicker made no other reply
+than that of looking at him, as if he considered it a matter of some
+doubt whether he was or was not, he elucidated the meaning of his
+remark, by inquiring who Michael Rust was.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The old gentlemen that caters for me,&#8217; replied Kornicker, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And does he make you eat alone?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;If I dine double, he&#8217;ll stop the prog, that&#8217;s all.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a>33</span>&#8216;A sing&#8217;lar bargain&#8212;quite sing&#8217;lar; very sing&#8217;lar, in fact. Does
+he keep a tight eye over you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker did not exactly know what kind of an eye a tight eye
+was, but he replied: &#8216;Sometimes he does, sometimes he don&#8217;t. He&#8217;s
+nigh enough to do it. His office is overhead.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Lawyer, I suppose?&#8212;<em>must</em> be,&#8217; said Mr. Scrake, drumming carelessly
+on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You&#8217;re out, old fellow. I&#8217;m with him, and should know something
+of him; and he isn&#8217;t.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ah!&#8217; said the stranger, leaning back and yawning, and then sharpening
+his knife on the fork. &#8216;What is he then?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker raised his finger gently to his nose, winked so violently
+at Mr. Scrake that he caused that gentleman to stop short in his performance
+to look at him; after which he shut both eyes, and gave vent
+to a violent inward convulsion of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What <em>is</em> he?&#8217; repeated Kornicker, in a tone of high surprise; then
+sinking his voice, and leaning over the table, he whispered confidentially
+in Mr. Scrake&#8217;s ear: &#8216;He&#8217;s hell.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No! he isn&#8217;t though, is he?&#8217; said Mr. Scrake, dropping his knife
+and fork, and sinking back in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes he is,&#8217; repeated Mr. Kornicker; &#8216;and if you was a certain
+gentleman that I know, you&#8217;d find it out. <em>He</em> will some day, I rather
+think.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Are <em>you</em> that individual?&#8217; inquired Mr. Scrake, with an air of deep
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, I ain&#8217;t, but I suspect some one else is. But come,&#8217; said he,
+&#8216;there&#8217;s the breakfast, so let&#8217;s be at it, and drop all other discussion.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>This remark found an answering echo in the stomach of Mr. Scrake,
+who resumed the sharpening of his knife, as the breakfast entered the
+room, and did not desist until the steak was on the table, when he immediately
+assaulted it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Shall I help you? What part will you take?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Any part,&#8217; replied Kornicker, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, it&#8217;s sing&#8217;lar; I never could carve. I&#8217;ll help you as I would
+help myself,&#8217; said Mr. Scrake, in his ignorance depositing on Mr. Kornicker&#8217;s
+plate an exceedingly tough piece of dry meat, and upon his
+own a cut which was remarkably tender and juicy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you always help yourself as you have helped me?&#8217; said Mr.
+Kornicker, snuffing with great deliberation, and eyeing his portion with
+no very contented eye.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Always, always.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Then you do yourself d&#8212;&#8212;d great injustice.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ha! ha! good&#8212;very good; sheer ignorance on my part, upon my
+soul. But you were telling me about this man, this Rust,&#8217; said Mr.
+Scrake, mashing his potatoes, and entombing a lump of butter in the
+heart of a small pyramid of them. &#8216;You said he was hell, or the devil,
+or something of that sort. What then? Eh?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kornicker, though not at all pleased with the ignorance of his companion,
+in the particular branch in which it had just displayed itself,
+was not of a sulky disposition, and was easily won into a communicative
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page34" name="page34"></a>34</span>mood, particularly as Mr. Scrake begged him, with tears in
+his eyes, to tell him which was the best part of a beef-steak, so that he
+might avoid in future the mortification of being guilty of a similar
+error.</p>
+
+<p>As the coffee went down, and the beef-steak followed, Mr. Scrake
+seemed to relax, and to forget that his hat hung over his head, commemorative
+of the recent retirement of Mrs. Scrake from this &#8216;wale of
+tears,&#8217; and became quite jocular on the subject of the fair sex, congratulating
+Kornicker upon his looks; calling him a lucky dog, and
+telling him that if <em>he</em> were him, he&#8217;d &#8216;make up to some charming
+young woman with a fortune, and be off with her.&#8217; He then went into a
+detail of his own juvenile indiscretions, relating many incidents of his
+life; some of which were amusing, some ridiculous, some tragic, some
+pathetic, and not a few quite indecent. It was wonderful what a devil
+that fat-cheeked, little-eyed, round-stomached fellow had been. Who
+could resist the influence of such a man? Not poor Kornicker; it gradually
+had its effect upon him, for he in turn grew communicative;
+talked freely of Rust, and of every man, woman and child of his acquaintance.
+He grew merry over the rare doings which had taken
+place in Rust&#8217;s den. He then descanted upon the peculiarities of the
+old man; his fierce fits of passion, his cold, shrewd, caustic manners, his
+coming in, and his going out; how long he was absent; how profoundly
+secret he kept himself, his doings, his whereabouts, and his mode of life.
+&#8216;And,&#8217; said he, in conclusion, &#8216;I know nothing of him. He&#8217;s a queer
+dog, a wonderfully queer one. It would take a long time to fathom him,
+I can tell you. I&#8217;ve been with him for a long time; and am his confidential
+adviser, his lawyer, and all that sort of thing; and yet I&#8217;ve
+never done but two things for him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You don&#8217;t say so!&#8217; exclaimed Mr. Scrake, laying down his knife
+and fork; and looking at him with his mouth open; &#8216;and pray what
+<em>were</em> those things?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I sued one man,&#8217; (being a lawyer you know,) said he, nodding in an
+explanatory way at Mr. Scrake, &#8216;and carried a letter to another.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ah! and who were those fortunate individuals?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Poh! I suppose there&#8217;s no secret about it. The man sued, was one
+Enoch Grosket. The other was one Henry Harson; a jolly old boy he
+<em>was</em> too. I breakfasted with him; a prime fellow; keeps a d&#8212;&#8212;d ugly
+cur, though.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Enoch Grosket, Henry Harson!&#8217; said the stranger, musing; &#8216;I&#8217;ve
+heard of them, I think. Who are they?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is more than I can tell,&#8217; replied Kornicker. &#8216;That&#8217;s the mystery
+of my situation. I know nothing about any thing I&#8217;m doing, or of him,
+or his acquaintances.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why, you must know what you sued the man for,&#8217; said Mr. Scrake,
+earnestly; &#8216;you must know <em>that</em>, surely.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, but it&#8217;s a height of knowledge which don&#8217;t carry much information
+with it,&#8217; replied Mr. Kornicker. &#8216;I sued him on a promissory
+note. What he made it for, or how Rust got it, or any thing more about
+him, or it, or Harson, or Rust, I know as little as you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger drew himself up, and looking at him gravely, said in a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a>35</span>serious and even stern tone: &#8216;Do you mean to say that you are entirely
+ignorant of every thing respecting this Rust; his family, his business,
+his acquaintances, his associates, his habits, his plans and operations?&#8217;&#8212;in
+short, that you know nothing more than you have mentioned
+to me?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The other nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Waiter, my bill,&#8217; said he in a peremptory tone.</p>
+
+<p>The boy brought him a slip of paper, on which was written the
+amount.</p>
+
+<p>He paid it without a word; walked across the room, took down his
+hat, put it on his head, and turning to Kornicker, said in a tone of solemn
+earnestness: &#8216;Young man, you&#8217;re in a bad way, a <em>very</em> bad way.
+Had I known with what people you were in the habit of associating before
+I sat down at that table, Ezra Scrake&#8217;s legs and yours would never
+have been under the same mahogany. A man in the employ of another
+and know nothing of him! It&#8217;s enormous! He might be a murderer,
+a thief; a man-slaughterer; a Burker, an arsoner, or any thing
+that is bad. Young man, in spite of the injury you&#8217;ve done me, I pity
+you; nay, I forgive you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kornicker, was merely waiting for an opportunity to suggest to
+him that his company had not only been unsought, but actually forced
+upon him, and even under his solemn protest. But before he could do
+so, Mr. Scrake was in the street; whereupon, on ascertaining that he was
+out of the hearing of Mr. Kornicker, he muttered to himself: &#8216;It was
+no go. Waited for him two hours; then spent an hour in pumping a
+dry well. Enoch Grosket, has sent me on a fool&#8217;s errand. Michael
+Rust knows too much to trust that addle-headed fool.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Having given vent to these observations, he deliberately buttoned up
+his coat, and walked off.</p>
+
+<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER TWENTIETH.</h4>
+
+<p>In a dark room into which even in the day-time the light struggled
+in such scanty streams that a kind of twilight was the nearest approach
+that it ever made to broad day, but which was now only lighted by a
+single candle, that flared and dripped in the currents of air, as they
+eddied and whirled about, seeking an escape, sat Tim Craig, and his
+comrade Bill Jones, the men with Rust&#8217;s interview with whom the
+reader is already acquainted. They were sitting cheek by jowl on two
+wooden benches in front of a fire, which they from time to time nourished
+with sticks from a heap of wood on the hearth. The fire however
+would not burn, but kept smouldering and smoking, now and then springing
+up into a fitful blaze, which threw a spectral air over the room,
+peopling its dim recesses with all sorts of fantastic forms, and then
+expired, leaving it more gloomy than ever. The appearance of the
+men, their subdued, whispering voices and startled looks, showed that
+at that particular time they were not altogether in a frame of mind to
+resist the gloomy influence of the place. The dark, lonely room, with
+its large shadowy corners and gaping seams, through which the wind
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name="page36"></a>36</span>sighed and wailed, and the pattering of the rain as it swept heavily
+against the side of the house and on the roof, all tended to add to the
+melancholy and sombre tone of their feelings. Bill drew his bench to
+the fire, looked suspiciously about him, and then, as if half ashamed of
+having done so, said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s a h-ll of a night! I don&#8217;t know how it is, but I&#8217;m not in trim
+to-night. Blow me, if the sight of that old fellow don&#8217;t make one&#8217;s blood
+cold. I can&#8217;t get warm; and this bloody fire keeps sputtering and
+smoking, as if to spite one.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Tim Craig, to whom this remark was addressed, turned and looked
+him steadily in the face, without speaking; and then his eyes wandered
+about the room, as if he were fearful of being watched or overheard,
+in what he was going to say.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bill,&#8217; said he in a low voice, his thin lips quivering; but whether
+from anger or any other emotion, was a matter of much doubt; &#8216;d&#8212;&#8212;d
+if I know which way to leap! Enoch pulls one way and Rust another.
+Either of them could send us to kingdom come. Ugh! how cold it is!
+Something comes over me to-night&#8212;I can&#8217;t tell what. I don&#8217;t half
+like the job. Bill,&#8217; continued he after a pause, drawing nearer his comrade
+and lowering his voice, &#8216;I&#8217;m haunted to-night. You know that
+fellow, the man up town, the cartman&#8212;&#8212;&#8217; He hesitated, and leaned
+his mouth close to the ear of the other, while in the dim light his face
+seemed ghastly; &#8216;the&#8212;the man, last year&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Jones looked at him significantly; and then drew his finger across
+his throat. &#8216;Do you mean that fellow?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; replied Craig in a husky tone, and scarcely able to articulate,
+for the choking in his throat. &#8216;He&#8217;s been <em>here</em> to-night. Three times
+I&#8217;ve caught him looking over my shoulder! <span class="special_name">God</span>! There he is again!
+Light! light! light!&#8217; shouted he, springing up; &#8216;make the fire burn,
+I say&#8212;make it burn! Heap on wood! heap it on! Do <em>anything</em>&#8212;but
+keep <span class="special_name">him</span> off!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why, Tim, you seem to be took bad,&#8217; exclaimed his companion, at
+the same time getting on his knees, and setting assiduously to work to
+blow the fire. &#8216;Come, this is worse than ever. We&#8217;ve got to work to-night;
+and it wont do to go into your fantastics.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>He paused in his remarks to apply his breath to the fire, and with
+such success, that in a few minutes a bright blaze was dancing up the
+chimney, lighting the whole room, and dispelling at once that shadowy
+appearance which its great size and dilapidated state had tended to give it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There now, that&#8217;s as comfortable a fire as you can want; and arter
+all, what you was just talking of was all fancy,&#8217; said he, resuming his
+seat. &#8216;Dead men stay where you put &#8217;em.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig had been pacing furiously up and down the room, as if to out-walk
+some demon that <em>would</em> keep at his side; but he stopped short,
+and going up to his comrade, placed his hand on his shoulder and said:
+&#8216;Bill Jones, that&#8217;s a lie! Whoever says so, lies! Dead men <em>don&#8217;t</em> stay
+where you put &#8217;em. I&#8217;ve had that man walking with me for hours
+together. I&#8217;ve had him at the same table with me, when I ate; I&#8217;ve
+had him in bed with me&#8212;ay, all night long; and to-night he&#8217;s been
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>37</span>here with his face almost touching mine. Blast him! if I could but
+get him by the throat, I&#8217;d throttle him!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Come, come, Tom, none of this,&#8217; said Jones, with more gentleness
+than his appearance indicated. &#8216;I&#8217;m sorry for you; you must feel bad
+enough, or you wouldn&#8217;t go on so. I&#8217;ve know&#8217;d you since we were
+boys together; and I know it&#8217;s not a little matter that works you up,
+like you are now. Come, sit down.&#8217; He led him to a seat, and kneeling
+at his feet, took his hand in both of his. &#8216;Don&#8217;t give in so, my old
+feller. Don&#8217;t you know, when we were boys, how we all looked up to
+you; and although I could have doubled you up, with my big limbs,
+yet you always had the mastery over me. Ha! ha! Tim, don&#8217;t you
+remember the old schoolmaster, too? Hallo! what now?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig leaned his head upon Jones&#8217; shoulder and sobbed aloud. Don&#8217;t
+talk of those days, Bill; it&#8217;ll drive me mad. Oh! if I was a boy
+again! But no, no; I&#8217;m a fool,&#8217; exclaimed he, springing up, apparently
+swallowing his emotion at one fierce gulp, and in an instant becoming
+as hardened as ever. &#8216;Am I crazy, to-night, or <em>what</em> ails me, that I&#8217;ve
+become as white-livered as a girl? Where&#8217;s the grog? Give us a sup;
+and we&#8217;ll see what&#8217;s to be done.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There, now you talk right,&#8217; said Jones, putting his hand in his coat-pocket
+and drawing out a small bottle, cased in leather; &#8216;that&#8217;ll wake
+you up; and now to business. You hav&#8217;n&#8217;t told me what&#8217;s to be did,
+and who you&#8217;ll go with, Grosket, or Rust.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Rust,&#8217; said Craig, abruptly; &#8216;he&#8217;s our man. He can bleed; Enoch
+can&#8217;t. <em>He</em> never fails in what he wants to do; Enoch <em>does</em>; but they
+are both devils incarnate. I&#8217;d rather fight against ten other men than
+either of them; but rather against Enoch than Mike Rust.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, what is it? He told you all about it. I couldn&#8217;t hear what
+he said.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s been on the prowl for two days: God knows what he&#8217;s arter;
+but he wants us to break in a house and steal a girl.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The profligate willain!&#8217; exclaimed Mr. Jones, with an air of great
+horror; &#8216;I&#8217;ll tell his father of him!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s only a child.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh! that alters the case,&#8217; said Mr. Jones, &#8216;Then I&#8217;ll tell his wife.
+Well?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We are to go to the house, get the girl at all hazards, rob the house
+if we choose, and bring <em>her</em> here. What he wants of her, who she is,
+is more than I know. &#8216;You are to get her, and ask no questions,&#8217; that&#8217;s
+what he said.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Who&#8217;s in the house?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Only an old man and a woman.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The man?&#8212;is he used up, or what?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s a bull-dog,&#8217; was the laconic reply.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We&#8217;ll want <em>them</em> then,&#8217; said Jones, pointing to a closet which was
+partly open, showing several pairs of pistols on a shelf.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I suppose so. Bring &#8217;em out, and look at the locks; not the flintlocks&#8212;it&#8217;s
+a wet night; get the others. We must have no trifling.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Jones made no other reply than to take out a pair of pistols, which he
+carried to the light, and examined their locks.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page38" name="page38"></a>38</span>&#8216;Are they loaded?&#8217; inquired Craig.</p>
+
+<p>Jones nodded: &#8216;Two bullets in each! Suppose they twig us?&#8212;are
+we to fight or run?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8216;You had better die than fail.&#8217; He said that,&#8217; replied Craig, in a
+low tone; &#8216;and when I saw his look I thought so too. D&#8212;n him!
+I&#8217;m afraid of him. It&#8217;ll be no baby-work if they discover us.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The other robber made no reply, but continued to examine the pistols,
+carefully rubbing the barrels, to remove any trace of rust, and working
+the hammers backward and forward; after which he put two fresh caps
+on the cones. &#8216;All right! I&#8217;m ready as soon as it&#8217;s time. When do
+you go?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Not till an hour after midnight. That&#8217;s the time when folks sleep
+soundest. You could cut a man&#8217;s throat then without waking him.
+Don&#8217;t let the fire get down,&#8217; said he, turning an apprehensive eye toward
+the fire-place. &#8216;It&#8217;s cold, and we&#8217;ve three hours to be here
+yet.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Jones, with the same good-natured alacrity which he had before displayed,
+threw several sticks on the fire, and then turning to his comrade,
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Suppose we rattle the dice till midnight?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What say you to the paste-board?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No cards for me,&#8217; replied the other, seating himself and leaning his
+cheeks between his hands, with his elbows on his knees, and his eyes
+fastened on the fire. &#8216;I want to be on the move. God! How I wish it
+was time! This cursed room is enough to suffocate one. Curse me,
+but it smells of coffins and dead men, and is as cold as a church-vault.
+It goes to a fellow&#8217;s very bones.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was something so unusual in the mood of his comrade, that
+Jones at last started up and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Blast me, Tim, but you must stop this. You&#8217;re making me as wild
+and frightened as yourself. Talk of your beaks, and courts, and
+prisons, and bullets, and pistols, as much as you like; but d&#8212;n it,
+leave your dead men, and coffins, and vaults, and all them &#8216;ere to themselves,
+will you! Curse me, if you ain&#8217;t enough to make a sneak of
+any man. So just stop, will you? If you can&#8217;t talk of something
+better, don&#8217;t talk at all.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig took him at his word; and drawing his bench closer to the fire,
+maintained his position, without moving or speaking for more than an
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>Jones, in the mean while, for want of employment, again examined the
+pistols; drew out the loads, and reloaded them; then going to the closet,
+he brought out two very dangerous-looking knives, and after trying the
+points on his finger, proceeded to oil them. This over, he betook himself
+to whistling, at the same time, keeping time to his music by drumming
+his heel heavily on the floor. This, however, could not last forever;
+and finally, wrapping a heavy coat around his shoulders, he
+stretched himself at full length in front of the fire, and was soon sound
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Not so his companion. In silence, without stirring, and scarcely
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page39" name="page39"></a>39</span>breathing, yet wide awake, with ears alive to every sound, and distorting
+every sigh of the wind into the voice of a human being, he sat with
+white lips and a shaking hand until the faint chime of a clock, which
+reached him even above the noise of the storm, told him that the hour
+was come.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Wake up!&#8217; said he, touching Jones with his foot. &#8216;It&#8217;s time to be
+off.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Jones, with instinctive quickness, obeyed the call by springing to his
+feet, apparently as wide awake as if he had not closed his eyes during
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;All right!&#8217; said he, looking hastily about the room. &#8216;Hey! but
+what&#8217;s all this noise?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s a horrible night; all hell seems abroad,&#8217; said Craig. &#8216;But
+come; get ready, and let&#8217;s be off.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will we want any of <em>them</em>?&#8217; asked Jones, pointing to an upper shelf
+in the closet, on which was lying a number of uncouth-looking instruments,
+the nature of which was best known to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Take the small crow; we may want <em>that</em>, but nothing more.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The bag, too?&#8217; inquired Bill.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No; it&#8217;s a girl we&#8217;ve to steal; d&#8212;n it, I wish it wasn&#8217;t!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>While he was speaking, he had thrust his arms into a shaggy great-coat,
+and was tying a thick woollen wrapper over his mouth, so that the
+last remark was nearly lost in it. He then put on an oil-skin cap, not
+unlike what is called by sailors a &#8216;sou&#8217;-wester,&#8217; and stood watching the
+proceedings of his comrade, which were by no means as expeditious as his
+own; for that gentleman proceeded very leisurely to encase his feet
+in a pair of thick woollen stockings, and a pair of shoes more capable of
+resisting the wet than those which he then wore. After this, he put an
+oil-cloth jacket over his other one, and surmounted the whole by a coat
+similar to that worn by Craig.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;One would suppose you was a baby, from your tenderness to yourself,&#8217;
+said Craig, impatiently. &#8216;You ain&#8217;t sugar, are you? Do you
+expect the rain to melt you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m a sweet fellow, I know that,&#8217; replied the other, carefully buttoning
+his coat to the chin. &#8216;I may be sugar for all I know, shouldn&#8217;t
+be surprised if I was. I&#8217;ve been told so afore this; let me tell you
+<em>that</em>, my old feller. You ain&#8217;t in kidney to-night. Take another pull
+at little Job,&#8217; said he, handing him the bottle, &#8216;and we&#8217;ll be off.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Whatever Craig&#8217;s contempt of the rain might be, it did not seem to
+extend to other liquids; for he took the bottle, and applying it to his
+lips, did not remove it until the bottom of it was not a little inclined
+toward the ceiling; perhaps its elevation might even have increased,
+had not Jones reminded him that it being late at night, the vessel could
+not be replenished, and that there was a &#8216;small child&#8217; to be helped after
+him, who hated above all things sucking at the neck of a dry bottle.</p>
+
+<p>Craig permitted the bottle to be taken from his hand, and stood with
+his eyes fixed on the floor in deep thought; nor did he arouse himself
+until Jones took him by the arm, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Come on; all&#8217;s ready.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig started at the words. &#8216;The pistols and the glim?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name="page40"></a>40</span>&#8216;I&#8217;ve got &#8217;em.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And the crow-bar?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;All snug <em>here</em>,&#8217; said Jones, touching the pocket of his great-coat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Good! Follow me.&#8217; Craig strode across the room, and went out.</p>
+
+<p>It was a dreadful night. The rain spouted furiously from the water-conductors,
+and sped boiling and foaming through the streets. The
+wind too caught it up as it fell, and swept it in long sheets through the
+streets; and as the two men battled their way along, it seemed actually
+to hiss around them, like the long lash of a whip. The tempest had a
+rare frolic that night, and right merrily did it howl over the house-tops,
+and through the narrow streets; and fast and furiously did the water
+bubble and boil, as it dashed on like mad to the deep river, to take refuge
+in her bosom from its tormentor the hurricane.</p>
+
+<p>Not a thing was stirring; not a beast. Not a man, except the two
+felons. A right glorious night it was for rapine and midnight murder.
+The house-dog had slunk in his straw, and the watchman was dozing
+away, under some shed, or stoop, or in some dark door-way. There
+was nothing to stand in the way of these enterprising men, save the
+fierce storm, and what cared they for that? It was the very night for
+them. If it came to blows, or if a life was to be taken, the death-cry
+would be lost in the howling of the wind; it was the night of all nights
+for <em>them</em>; and so thought Craig and his comrade, as they toiled along,
+with their heads bent down to keep the rain out of their faces.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is it far?&#8217; at last inquired Jones; &#8216;we&#8217;ve come a mile.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Half a mile more,&#8217; replied Craig; and that was all that passed between
+them, until they stood in front of Harson&#8217;s house.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This is it,&#8217; said Craig.</p>
+
+<p>He lifted the latch of the gate opening into the door-yard, and approached
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Where are we to begin?&#8217; inquired Jones.</p>
+
+<p>Craig pointed to a small window on a level with, or rather sunk somewhat
+below, the surface of the ground, with a kind of area around it.
+&#8216;<em>There</em>; there are iron gratings, but they are set in the wood, which is
+all rotten. Quick! try them with the crow-bar; they&#8217;ll give.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Jones, with an alacrity and adroitness which showed a long experience
+in such matters, after feeling his way to the place, and passing his
+hand over the bars to discover their exact situation, inserted his crow-bar
+between the stone-work and the wood, and at the very first application
+forced the whole out. A wooden shutter which opened from within,
+being merely secured by a wooden button, gave way before a strong
+pressure of his hand, and left the entrance open.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Go in quick!&#8212;don&#8217;t keep a fellow in the rain all night,&#8217; said Craig,
+in a sharp whisper. &#8216;It&#8217;s only three feet to the floor. Get in, will
+you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Shut up! Cuss ye!&#8217; exclaimed Jones, savagely; &#8216;let me take my
+own way.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, he inserted his feet, and gradually let himself down
+until he touched the floor. In a moment Craig was at his side, and
+closed the shutter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Now, quick! a light!&#8217; whispered he. In another minute, the dark
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>41</span>lantern was lighted, and Craig, taking it up and throwing back the
+slide, turned it carefully around the place. It was a cellar, filled with
+empty barrels and boxes; and seemed to be a sort of receptacle for
+rubbish of all descriptions. At one end was a door leading to the upper
+part of the house. It was partly open. Without a word, Craig went
+to it and ascended the stairs, which were shut off from the kitchen by
+another door.</p>
+
+<p>Craig opened this, and crossed the room with a quick yet stealthy step,
+but with the air of one perfectly familiar with the precincts. Passing
+through the entry, he went into Harson&#8217;s sitting-room; from there into
+the outer room, communicating with the street.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We&#8217;ll open the street door, Bill,&#8217; said he, &#8216;in case we have to bolt
+quick. There,&#8217; said he, as he drew back two bolts, and turned the
+key, don&#8217;t forget the road. Leave all the doors open. That&#8217;ll do.
+We&#8217;ll get the girl first, and then we&#8217;ll see what&#8217;s to be done. First
+door at the head of the stairs. Quiet, quiet; there&#8217;s a dog in the next
+room.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Stealing up the stairs, they opened the door, and the full light of the
+lamp fell in the child&#8217;s room. They could hear her low, regular breathing
+as she slept. Craig handed the light to his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll take her,&#8217; whispered he. &#8216;Bring the light so that I can see.
+There, that will do.&#8217; He bent over her. As he did so, he accidentally
+stirred the bed-clothes, and the child opened her eyes; and before he
+could prevent it, a single wild cry escaped her as she caught sight of the
+wild faces which were bending over her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Christ! how she yelps!&#8217; exclaimed Craig, in a fierce whisper. He
+clapped his hand over her mouth. &#8216;By G-d! there goes the dog too!
+we must be off. My chicken,&#8217; said he, in a low tone, &#8216;if you understand
+plain English, you know what I mean when I say if you whisper
+loud enough to wake a cat, you&#8217;ll get a bullet through your head. Hist!
+Bill, was that a door creaking? I can&#8217;t hear for the d&#8212;&#8212;d dog!&#8217; Both
+stopped and listened.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It was only the door below,&#8217; said Jones. &#8216;Quick! quick!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig caught the child out of bed, wrapped a blanket about her to
+stifle her cries, in case she should make any, and moved to the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Turn the light on the door; I can&#8217;t see. There, that will do. Now
+then, it&#8217;s open, and the game&#8217;s ours.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;<em>Not quite</em>!&#8217; said a stern voice; and the next instant Craig received
+a blow from a fist which sent him reeling back into the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Watch! watch! murder! thieves!&#8217; bellowed Harson from without,
+while from the din, at least forty pug-dogs seemed to be barking in all
+parts of the entry.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Shoot him! shoot him down!&#8217; shouted Craig, springing to the door.
+&#8216;By G-d! the door&#8217;s shut, and he&#8217;s holding it from the outside!&#8217; exclaimed
+he, pulling it with all his force. &#8216;He&#8217;s as strong as a bull.
+Quick! shoot through the panel! He must stand behind the knob.
+Fire!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Instead of obeying him, Bill Jones seized the child. &#8216;Hark ye, old
+fellow,&#8217; said he; &#8216;shut up, or I&#8217;ll dash this girl&#8217;s brains out. If I don&#8217;t,
+d&#8212;n me!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page42" name="page42"></a>42</span>This appeal was heard, and operated upon Harson; but in a different
+manner from what they expected, for he relaxed his hold of the door
+so suddenly, that Craig fell backward, and bursting into the room, with
+a single blow prostrated the burglar, who was bending over the child,
+and dashed the light to the ground. His advantage was only momentary;
+for in a minute Craig flung himself upon him. But the old
+man&#8217;s blood was up. In his young days he had been a powerful
+wrestler; and even now the robber found him no easy conquest, for he
+said, in a husky tone: &#8216;This won&#8217;t do, Bill. Drop the girl and come
+here. This blasted old fool will keep us all night.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Instead of obeying him, Jones stole to the head of the stairs and listened.
+In an instant he sprang back.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We must be off, Tim! Some one is coming. Quick! Let loose
+the man.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>But there were two to that bargain; for Harson had heard the words
+as well as the robber, and he held him with a grip like a vice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Let go your hold and we&#8217;ll be off,&#8217; said Craig, in a husky voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Never! You shall taste what you are so ready to give!&#8217; said Harson,
+fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bill, there&#8217;s no time to lose!&#8217; exclaimed Craig, in a stern tone.
+&#8216;Shoot him, and have done with it! There, now; I&#8217;ll hold him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The report of a pistol followed; but as it did so, a deep groan came
+from Craig. &#8216;You&#8217;ve done for me, Bill. The old fellow dodged.
+Run! run!&#8212;my rope&#8217;s out.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Can&#8217;t I help you, Tim?&#8217; exclaimed Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, no; go! Get off; I&#8217;ll not blow on you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Thus adjured, the robber paused no longer. But escape was now no
+easy matter; for at the door he was saluted by a loud voice:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Hallo! Harry; is this you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, no, a thief! Grab him, Frank!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The next instant Jones was in the grip of a powerful man, but he
+was a giant himself, and desperate. He flung himself with all his force
+upon his adversary, and both went to the floor together; Jones&#8217; hand
+on the other&#8217;s throat.</p>
+
+<p>There is something fearful in the grapple of a desperate man, even
+when feeble in frame; and in the case of Jones, who knew that every
+thing depended on his efforts, and whose fierce spirit was backed by
+muscles of iron, the conflict was one of such fury that the very walls
+of the old house shook. From step to step, from the landing to the hall,
+they fought; tugging and tearing at each other like two dogs, while
+Harry Harson in vain hung about them; the darkness and the rapidity
+of their motions preventing him from distinguishing friend from foe.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;By G-d! he&#8217;s an ox for strength,&#8217; at last said Frank; &#8216;if you&#8217;d
+do any thing, Harry, go to the door and sing out for the watch. I&#8217;ll
+hold him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It might be that in order to utter these words the Doctor relaxed his
+grip, or it might be that the knowledge of the increased risk that he
+would run gave additional strength to the robber, for he made a single
+desperate effort, tore himself from the iron grasp that held him down,
+rose to his knee, and striking the Doctor a blow in the face that for a moment
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name="page43"></a>43</span>bewildered him, sprang to his feet, dashed Harson from the door,
+bounded across the room between the hall and the street-door, and darted
+into the street at full speed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;D&#8212;n me, Harry, he&#8217;s off!&#8217; said the Doctor, assuming a sitting
+posture on the floor. &#8216;He deserves to escape, for he fought like a devil
+for it. D&#8212;n him, he&#8217;s a brave fellow! There&#8217;s no use in chasing
+him, I suppose; you and I ain&#8217;t cut out for running. If that last crack
+had hit me on the nose, it would have smashed it. Come, let&#8217;s see after
+the other fellow; perhaps he&#8217;s playing possum, and may be off. If you
+don&#8217;t stop the barking of that d&#8212;&#8212;d dog of yours, I&#8217;ll kill him.&#8217; Groping
+their way back to the upper floor, from which they caught sight
+of Spite, rapidly retreating as they advanced, they found the house-keeper
+standing in the room which they had just left, arrayed in a particularly
+large white night-gown and wearing a particularly high cap,
+with a particularly fierce white ribbon on the top of it, and bearing in
+her hand a dim rush-light.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Quick! Martha; more lights, and some brandy!&#8217; said Harson, pushing
+past her. &#8216;Thank God! <em>you&#8217;re</em> not hurt, Annie! Come, Doctor,
+this poor devil is human,&#8217; said he, pointing to Craig, who lay on the
+floor apparently dead. &#8216;Look to him; he breathes. I hear him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It needed no second appeal; for before he had finished, the Doctor
+had turned the robber over, opened his vest, and displayed a wound in
+his breast. He thrust his finger in it, and then looking up at Harry,
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s a case; <em>must</em> go!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Poor fellow! God only knows what may have driven him to this.
+Help me to put him on the bed.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Taking him in their arms, they placed him on the bed; and there
+they sat and watched him until the dawn of day. The bright sunshine
+came cheerily in at the window; the storm had passed, and the sky
+looked clear and blue, as if it had never been unruffled. And at that
+hour, and in that room, with the golden sunbeams streaming in, lay Tim
+Craig, his head pressed heavily back upon the pillow, bound round
+with a cloth dabbled in blood. His face was blackened and bruised,
+and his shirt and the bed-clothes stained with blood. His breath was
+short and heavy, and at times, gasping; his mouth half open, and his
+dull eye fixed with a heavy leaden stare at the ceiling. His race was
+nearly run. He seemed utterly unconscious of the presence of any
+one, until the door opened, and Harson, who had gone out, came in.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the bed, and leaned over the burglar. As he did so, his
+shadow falling across the man&#8217;s face, attracted his attention, and he
+turned his heavy eye, and asked, in a husky voice:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will I go? What does he say?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Harson shook his head. &#8216;It&#8217;s almost over with you, my poor fellow;
+God help you!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The man turned his head away and looked at the wall.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you understand me?&#8217; said Harson, anxiously bending over him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, yes,&#8217; replied the man in the same mumbling tone; &#8216;yes, I&#8217;m
+come for; my time&#8217;s up. I was a strong man yesterday; and now!
+now&#8212;&#8212;! It&#8217;s very strange! very strange!&#8217; He muttered a few inarticulate
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page44" name="page44"></a>44</span>words, and then resumed his old position, looking at the wall,
+with no sound escaping him except the low panting of his breath. Suddenly
+he said, in a louder tone:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s all very strange <em>here</em>.&#8217; He pointed to his head. &#8216;Were you
+ever at sea? Yes; well, well&#8212;did you ever see a ship toss and swing
+to and fro&#8212;to and fro&#8212;to and fro, and yet keep straight on? Well,
+my brain reels and swims in that way. There are dim strange things;
+men, beasts, birds, and ghosts hovering about it; but I see straight on,
+and they are on all sides of the path; yes, I see it straight, straight,
+straight and plain. I&#8217;m going on it. They can&#8217;t make me swerve;
+but it&#8217;s awful to have such company about me on such a journey.
+Come close to me!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Harson drew his chair close to the bed and sat down. &#8216;I&#8217;ve sent for
+a clergyman,&#8217; said he, in a low tone; &#8216;He&#8217;ll be here presently. You
+must endeavor to chase away these thoughts; they are only dreams.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Craig&#8217;s thin lips contracted into a smile which was horrible, as
+without moving his eyes from their fixed position, he whispered: &#8216;No,
+no; he won&#8217;t do it&#8212;he&#8217;ll not do it. No; I won&#8217;t blow on you, Bill.
+Ha! how hot that bullet was! Lift me up! <em>He&#8217;s</em> there! Yes, lift
+me up, so that I may be above him; up! up! Ha! ha! that&#8217;ll do.
+Bill, do you recollect the old school-master? There! Up! up!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Harson put his arm under him, and raised him. As he did so, Craig&#8217;s
+head fell against his shoulder, dabbling it with blood. The next instant
+he stretched himself out at full length, gave a shudder; a long rattling
+breath followed; and he fell back on the pillow&#8212;dead.</p>
+
+</div><!--Quod Correspondence-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">LINES TO DEATH.</h2>
+<div class="epigram">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">How</span> vain is human strength to flee,</p>
+<p>Thou mighty <span class="special_name">One</span>! from thee!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Thou</span> hid&#8217;st the scenes that lie the grave beyond&#8212;</p>
+<p>Thou hast the secrets of the world unseen;</p>
+<p>Where the loved ones, the beautiful, the fond,</p>
+<p>And all who tossed on life&#8217;s wild sea have been,</p>
+<p>Have gone in silence at thy dreadful call,</p>
+<p class="i8">Great conqueror of all!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Empires are crumbled at thy dread command,</p>
+<p>And nations rise and nourish but to fall;</p>
+<p>Even earth is thine; and thou e&#8217;er long shalt stand,</p>
+<p>And mark its wealth, and power, and beauty, all</p>
+<p>Fade and depart as sunbeams in the heaven</p>
+<p class="i8">Vanish and die at even!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The midnight storm, the tempest raging high,</p>
+<p>The sweeping pestilence, and fell disease,</p>
+<p>Rude winter&#8217;s blast, and balmy summer&#8217;s sigh,</p>
+<p>Earth, and the sea whose murmurs never cease,</p>
+<p>All are but agents of thy sovereign will,</p>
+<p class="i8">Thy bidding to fulfil.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name="page45"></a>45</span>Couldst thou to man&#8217;s earth-fettered soul reveal</p>
+<p>The bliss thou bringest to the pure in heart,</p>
+<p>Would sudden horror o&#8217;er his spirit steal,</p>
+<p>When called at last with low-born joys to part?</p>
+<p>Would he not rather sigh for that bless&#8217;d shore,</p>
+<p class="i8">Where death is known no more?</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Stern Power! though others shudder at thy tread,</p>
+<p>And vainly seek thy arrow to evade,</p>
+<p>Before thy stroke I fain would bow my head,</p>
+<p>Nor grieve to see my transient pleasures fade:</p>
+<p>In thy embrace my sorrows all shall cease,</p>
+<p class="i8">For in the grave is peace!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">H. C.</span></p>
+</div><!--Lines to Death-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">SKETCHES OF EAST-FLORIDA.</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle">NUMBER FOUR.</h3>
+<h4 class="chapter_title">ST. AUGUSTINE: THE LAST LOOK.</h4>
+<p>Our schooner was &#8216;up&#8217; for Charleston by the first fair wind; but the
+captain was fastidious, and the only fair wind was directly aft. A point
+or two off would not do, unless it had been blowing for a day or two
+and was likely to continue till the captain could land his passengers in
+Charleston. Running in on the Georgia coast was always very delightful
+to the passengers, but not at all so to Captain S&#8212;&#8212;. We had
+taken berths in the schooner about the middle of April, and when the
+first week in May had passed by, we began to think it would be difficult
+to find the precise article of air which the captain desired. During
+this time it seemed to have become coquettish, giving us all kinds of
+northerly, all varieties of east, and a preponderance of westerly wind,
+finishing off with a sirocco from the south-west, (&#8216;a Boston east wind
+boiled,&#8217; and the only unpleasant summer wind on the coast,) after which
+it stopped short; the sand and the orange blossoms settled again, and
+every thing hung perpendicular. The next morning a puff came up
+from the south in a very blustering manner, as though it had an immense
+capital to back it, but proved very short-winded. Our little craft
+thinking to beat us, shook its sails out right and left, and dashed out of
+the harbor, rounding the point in a handsome manner; but before
+reaching the bar it slacked away, till &#8216;small by degrees and beautifully
+less,&#8217; it came to a dead stand; and the same evening we dashed back
+again with a no&#8217;th-east-by-east behind us, to the great delight of promenaders
+on the sea-wall and the public in general. Ladies rode
+through the streets at a hard-gallop; little niggers crept under balconies;
+and an individual who shall be nameless performed a feat with a certain
+Di. Vernon of that ilk, which resulted in a bill the next morning of some
+odd dollars for extra motion, and a severe lesson upon the moralities of
+fast-riding. The mid-day weather at this time was decidedly summerish,
+the temperature having the <em>feel</em> of about seventy in our latitude,
+but ranging there from eighty to ninety degrees.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page46" name="page46"></a>46</span>We were beginning the summer custom of gathering every morning
+to meet the &#8216;doctor&#8217; (sea-breeze) on the square, only a short walk below,
+which I prolonged on the sea-wall to the little schooner, examined the
+labels on the berths, crushed an orange at the corner shop, and lounged
+up to the nine-pin alley to close up the &#8216;unfinished business.&#8217; After
+bowling, if it was too warm to invent any thing that would not be forgotten
+before dinner, the old routine was the order of the day; and
+back-gammon or flirtation had it, according as we were nearer the
+Florida House or the one &#8216;round the corner.&#8217; The thirty or forty
+others who had helped make the winter pleasant, had been gone for
+weeks, and our little parties for bathing or riding, or any other trifling
+matter which might be better than a cigar on the piazza, had that snug
+kind of personality which is so much more pleasant than safe, that I
+half-wished the thirty or forty had gone much sooner than they did.</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting on the piazza one morning with a number of un-appropriated
+blank hours before me, a little embarrassed whether to tease the
+big bear in the yard or lean over and give up to it, with the old dog
+who was snapping at flies on the floor, when it struck me as something
+very fresh, that as the wind was still two points off, I could make one
+more sally into the country. Before the thought had time to cool, my
+horse was brought to the door, and looking about for a companion, I
+asked Miss H&#8212;&#8212;, who hesitated and declined; but I found one in Lieut.
+T&#8212;&#8212;, who was that morning going over to Picolata. The distance is
+eighteen miles, through an unbroken pine-barren, (one opening only, at
+Fort Searle, twelve miles out,) and an under-growth of palmettos of just
+sufficient height for Indians to hide in. For a long time the travel over
+all that portion of the territory lying south of a line fifty miles north of
+us, was with an escort of fifteen or twenty men, who moved at a slow
+rate, a hundred yards apart, so as not to present to the Indians more than
+one or two shots at a time from any one point.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the precaution of a strong escort every day, out or
+in, on the Picolata road, there had been more downright murdering
+there than in any other part of the territory, some having been shot
+down almost in sight of Augustine. This was not escort-day, but if it
+had been, our horses were not disposed to be six hours in the sun, in
+going so short a distance. The little grey steed that I had been using
+for some weeks was not by any means a lady&#8217;s article, but he had been
+alongside of them in many a ride on the beach, and so learned the trick
+of combining the playful and gallant in a very pretty manner. His
+ambition was to be always up to the mark, and a head more if his companion
+would allow it; but at the least indication of rivalry his head
+went down, and nothing less than iron muscles could keep him from his
+twelve-mile gait. If not well-matched it was his delight to dash ahead
+for a hundred yards, and then stop and look back, or perhaps return,
+make a short sweep around his companion, jog on sociably for a little,
+and then repeat the manœuvre; and in doing this my arms were only
+sufficient to guide him a little in case he attempted the barren, and keep
+him clear of the saw-palmetto. T&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;s animal belonged at Picolata.
+The quarter-master at the barracks had sent him up to be taken over,
+and as we mounted at the Florida House, I could not help smiling as I
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>47</span>recognized the same fellow that the quarter-master had politely sent me
+for a similar purpose some time previous. He was long-bodied and
+very long-limbed, and having been brought up in camp, his motion had
+all the stiffness of the marching step. His point, any two points being
+given, was to make the straight line between them in the shortest possible
+time, in an unbroken trot; but there was no danger of his breaking it;
+he was not capable of a gallop; his limbs couldn&#8217;t be brought to it.</p>
+
+<p>We passed out of town at an easy pace, talking over the last night&#8217;s
+ball; and while crossing the bridge the lieutenant called my attention
+to his saddle, a cast-iron frame thinly covered with leather, leaving large
+rib-spaces on the back, which he commended as being delightfully cool.
+&#8216;But, my dear fellow,&#8217; said I, &#8216;why didn&#8217;t you get a blanket?&#8217; He
+replied that after getting accustomed to it, it was much easier than the
+padded saddle. &#8216;Do you know,&#8217; said I, &#8216;that that horse is a trotter?&#8217;
+&#8216;I&#8217;m used to trotters,&#8217; said he. &#8216;You ease up a little in the stirrups?&#8217;
+&#8216;No; contrary to rules.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>We now entered the barren, and the moment the horses dipped their
+hoofs in the sand, the old &#8216;forker,&#8217; seeing the problem to be solved, took
+the bit in his teeth and started for Picolata. At the first dash the forker
+went ahead. He had laid his course, as they say at sea, and no up-helm
+or down-helm had the slightest effect upon him. His mind was
+made up; no wavering, no playfulness, no scarishness, no looking to
+the right or left. Picolata was the point; &#8216;no two ways&#8217; to Picolata;
+he was on the right way, and he was the horse to do it in double-quick
+time. The little grey had evidently thought it was too hot for any thing
+in his line; but as soon as he noticed any thing like game in his companion,
+his head went down as usual; and after a little hard running,
+we brushed by the old fellow, made the requisite heading, wheeled,
+passing the forker on the larboard quarter, and made the circuit, to his
+great satisfaction. &#8216;Here we go!&#8217; said I, as we passed him again;
+and this time the grey kept &#8216;head on&#8217; for some miles, till at length I
+succeeded in stopping him, and looked back. The forker was coming
+in a bee-line, T&#8212;&#8212; bobbing up and down &#8216;with a short uneasy motion,&#8217;
+endeavoring to make a seat of his jacket which he had stripped off;
+and as he came nearer I noticed that he was trying to look very cool
+and comfortable. We waited till they came up, but there was no stopping;
+the forker went by without winking or noticing the grey in the
+slightest manner.</p>
+
+<p>Easing up on the reins till we came abreast, &#8216;How are you now?&#8217;
+said I. &#8216;Oh, this is nothing&#8217; said T&#8212;&#8212;, turning round a very little with
+a highly-charged expression of face; &#8216;a little rough; yes, a little&#8212;little
+rough; but you observe my seat, Sir&#8212;West Point?&#8217; &#8216;O yes,&#8217; said I;
+&#8216;very fine&#8212;and cool, I suspect.&#8217; But there was not much chance of
+intelligible conversation. T&#8212;&#8212; kept on talking, but his remarks, meant
+for the quarter-master, were so barbarously broken, that I could only
+guess occasionally at some exclamations, which for point and emphasis
+were highly military. Our rate of travel was not, you observe, from
+five to ten, or from eight to twelve miles an hour, but exactly ten. That
+was the forker&#8217;s motion, from which there was no deviation. If he was
+struck, his heels went up suddenly and very high, but it was no impediment.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page48" name="page48"></a>48</span>He evidently took the blow as a military order for a rear motion;
+nothing more, and no occasion for malice. Now, if any body wishes
+to know about the face of the country; how bounded, what products, etc.,
+between Augustine and Picolata, I am unable to give the slightest information
+from any notes taken that morning. My perceptions were all
+<em>in medias res</em>; and I only remember seeing a wild turkey that we scared
+up, and an alligator that made for the water while we were a quarter
+of a mile distant, and splashed in in a great fright some time after we
+had passed him.</p>
+
+<p>In little more than an hour we entered the opening at Fort Searle so
+suddenly, that I heard the orderly report, as he marched up to the commanding
+officer: &#8216;Two gentlemen from Augustine, Sir.&#8217; &#8216;Very well,&#8217;
+said the officer; and he turned to receive the lieutenant, but T&#8212;&#8212; was
+past all dignities. Stretching himself on a bench he ordered brandy-and-water,
+and as that was not quite the thing, added a little cherry
+bounce, and finished with old Jamaica, and presently went round a corner
+with a tumbler of the latter; but whether for external or internal application,
+I am unable to say. Without stopping long enough to get stiff,
+we mounted again, and after a few closing flourishes from the little grey
+entered the city of Picolata, consisting of one house, and were greeted
+with the chattering of ten thousand black-birds all in full chorus. A
+boat coming up very opportunely, we took passage in her that night,
+and next morning were at Pilatka.</p>
+
+<p>A few miles south of that place, there is a small plantation on the
+river that had been deserted and the house burned down by the Indians
+during the first winter of the war. Some weeks previous, while at
+Pilatka, Colonel &#8212;&#8212; had politely offered me a sergeant and nine men to
+visit the place, but shortly after reaching it they complained of the musquitoes
+and rode back to the camp, leaving me with the guide and Gen.
+W&#8212;&#8212; to finish the survey. I now found a young physician who was
+waiting an escort for Tampa Bay, and we went out alone; and after
+studying trails for a long time, and taking directions by the compass, we
+came in sight of the hammock when some miles distant, and entering
+by a winding road that was arched over so as to be almost dark as
+night, we emerged, after a quarter of a mile, in a little round spot in
+the wilderness, which for quiet beauty was beyond any thing I had ever
+before seen. There were some forty acres in the circle, and yet it
+looked not unlike a dollar in a tumbler, so high and dense was the
+forest. The magnolias, a hundred feet in air, were in full blossom, their
+white tops making an unbroken wreath over the area, while the lower
+branches of the live-oaks were loaded with the long moss, hanging like
+curtains, motionless in the bright light, and not a single bird on the tree-tops
+to break the perfect charm of the place. Beautiful, very beautiful!
+but how strangely still! A squirrel chattering, or the rat-tat of a woodpecker,
+would have been something; but there was not a single voice
+out; not so much as the hum of a musquito, though it was the hottest
+of summer days.</p>
+
+<p>Why didn&#8217;t the oaks speak, or the magnolias? If they had, shaken
+their white heads, and raising their trailing garments, had all burst
+out in some grand anthem, I should only have thought it quite in
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page49" name="page49"></a>49</span>character; and if personally addressed, it would have seemed entirely
+a matter of course. I should have replied civilly, begged pardon for
+intruding in so informal a manner, and backed out as soon as possible;
+and perhaps the click of a rifle would have produced the same effect.
+We rode around the little gem, and found the charred timbers where the
+house stood, and a few orange trees that the Indians had left; but the
+cool spring was so hid in the high grass, that we were forced back with
+parched lips to the flat water at Pilatka, which place we reached in
+time for a late dinner; and just as the evening set in I took passage
+again for Picolata.</p>
+
+<p>All the boats running on the river were in the government service,
+and ours at this time was loaded fore and aft with a company of
+dragoons, bound to Black Creek. As we left the dock, another large
+boat came out in a pompous manner, and gave us chase; and as the
+day had been intensely hot, a large line of clouds rolled over the bluff
+at the same time, probably from the gulf <em>en route</em> to the Atlantic, and
+moving slowly across the river, gathered their black folds around the
+pine-tops, shutting all up, river and forest, every thing but our chimneys,
+in utter darkness. And now began a scene which combined little
+and great in a manner quite fantastic. Boatmen swearing and yelling
+to each other as the boats came near collision, and that infernal
+scream sounding off through the pine barrens like some spirit newly
+damned; horses prancing and threshing on the bows; men growling at
+cards, and over head thunder and lightning leading off the storm in a very
+brilliant and point-blank manner; all which was quite rousing and
+melo-dramatic. While I was noticing the pilot&#8217;s manner of steering by
+flashes, a gentleman came up, whom I recognised as a resident of St.
+Augustine; and as he had a horse at Picolata, we agreed to go over
+together that night, as the darkness was rather favorable, and the road
+being sandy, we could ride rapidly without being heard.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the evening when we reached Picolata; and with a
+good deal of uproar, men shouting, steam puffing, and half a dozen
+blacks gesticulating on shore, we each made a fortunate leap to the
+dock; and walking up to the camp in a blaze of pitch-pine, we ordered
+our horses, and at eleven o&#8217;clock entered the pine woods for St. Augustine.
+&#8216;I wouldn&#8217;t go over to-night,&#8217; said the man as he brought up my
+horse; &#8216;the rascals have been seen about here within a day or two;
+for God&#8217;s sake, Sir, <em>don&#8217;t</em> go over to-night!&#8217; But this only gave a keener
+zest to the ride. I had carried with me every where a double-barrelled
+gun, but I had found it an awkward companion, and having been all day
+in the saddle I concluded to leave it to be sent over, and mean time trust
+to my friend&#8217;s pistols.</p>
+
+<p>The rain had ceased, and the wind had gone down, but the night was
+still so dark that we could only guess at the road by the strip of light
+over head, and now and then a flash, which would light up the avenue
+for a long distance ahead, and then leave it still darker than before.
+As we entered the barren at an easy trot, I was pleased to notice that
+the darkness or the storm had tamed my little grey into a very sober
+humor, and his companion also was in a very moralizing way. There
+was no starting at the lightning, no attempt at running, but with a noiseless
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page50" name="page50"></a>50</span>tread they stepped daintily in the sand, pointing their ears hither
+and yon, and as it seemed to me, affecting a little scarishness, though
+what they could hear when the forest was so breathless, it was difficult
+to imagine; but every little while they would both leap some fifteen feet
+across the road, (which couldn&#8217;t be affectation) shiver a little, and then
+pick their way carefully as before. We could see nothing, hear nothing;
+but horses are keen snuffers, and they might smell when we
+couldn&#8217;t; but what was singular, the vaulting was done from the same
+side of the road.</p>
+
+<p>We were still keeping up a little small-talk, when some miles in the
+forest, both horses, without any jump or start of any kind, stopped suddenly;
+and looking ahead, we saw something moving stealthily toward us.
+My companion cocked a pistol and challenged; but we only heard a little
+grumbling, and I counted him a dead man; but before we had time to
+guess about it, something brushed by, and by a flash of light we saw a
+glitter of buttons, and a man on horseback. Whoever or whatever he
+was, we saw him but a moment, and he was soon out of hearing.
+With a remark or two upon the fool-hardiness of the man, we quickened
+our pace, and went on at a dashing rate, abreast and Indian fashion, just
+as it happened; now one leading and now the other, according to the
+wind of our horses; and in this manner we were passing the most dangerous
+part of the road, when there was a sudden whizzing about our
+ears, and the report of half a dozen rifles. The little grey reared and
+plunged and I landed&#8212;where, I don&#8217;t know; but the next that I remember,
+I was standing alone in the pine barren. I had been running for
+a long time; how far I couldn&#8217;t tell, being conscious only of dodging
+often from one tree to another. On looking about I remarked that the
+clouds had opened a little, and that there was nothing to be seen or
+heard in any direction. Presently I heard a yell, and looking around,
+a strapping Indian, with his rifle drawn to his eye, fired as I faced him,
+and the ball parted a lock of my hair in a manner very embarrassing.
+I levelled upon the rascal, but missed fire; the rain had wet the powder
+in the tube. The fellow took no pains to hide himself, but was very
+coolly loading again, and had got his ball ready, when I once more started
+off at full speed.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sharp race, and a warm one. After running a mile or more,
+there was a small stream to be crossed; and with a few well-balanced
+steps on a half-decayed log that lay at the edge of the water, I reached
+the opposite bank just as my pursuer stepped on at the other end. Hearing
+a strange kind of shock, I turned and saw the big six-footed animal
+astride the log, twisting and writhing about in great agony. He
+had slipped and fallen in such a manner as to pain him almost beyond
+endurance. I stood on the bank and laughed at him; and&#8212;shall I
+confess it?&#8212;I tried half a dozen more caps at the fellow, with a most
+savage deliberateness; to all which he paid not the slightest attention;
+but as his strength came gradually back, I took to my heels again, and
+fortunately reached the highway&#8230;.</p>
+
+<p>The last ten miles of our ride that night were passed over in a very
+headlong manner: we stopped only once, as we heard the cry of some
+hounds on the south side, and then on again, keeping our horses just
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page51" name="page51"></a>51</span>within their speed, till at the worst place on the road, we gave up the
+reins and let them go. In less than two hours from Picolata, we snuffed
+the salt air again; and reaching the open country, walked our horses
+leisurely into St. Augustine.</p>
+
+<p>As we entered the city my companion left me; and as I drew rein on
+the square, I noticed that the schooner was still at the dock, and all
+about the city was quiet and undisturbed. The storm had gone by, its
+skirts hanging on the eastern horizon, and forming a back-ground to the
+light of the light-house, while the city and bay were bright in the starlight;
+and if stars shine any brighter in the small hours, they were
+doing their best then. All looked pleasant and quite at home, even to
+the sentry at the corner; and there was nothing, you would say, to
+make one sad; but as I turned the corner I drew a breath of such
+yawning profundity that the old dog at the Florida House started up
+and growled impromptu. That dog had held a stout nigger all night in
+the yard, not long before; but fortunately he knew me, and after smelling,
+to make sure that all was right, he followed me into an out-house,
+when I rolled Bob out of a cradle, and giving a general order in a low
+voice for a warm bath in the morning, found my quarters and went
+to bed.</p>
+
+<p>At sunrise the next morning I was half awake, grasping at the skirts
+of a pleasant dream, when Bob came in, blew about the room for awhile,
+and cried out &#8216;Massa, did you order um wom bath?&#8217; &#8216;No; clear out!
+Eh? warm bath? Yes; warm bath, to be sure.&#8217; And Bob went out,
+and came in directly with two wenches and a warm bath. &#8216;How&#8217;s the
+wind Bob?&#8217; &#8216;De wind?&#8217; &#8216;Yes; where&#8217;s the wind&#8217; &#8216;Dun know,
+Sah.&#8217; &#8216;Well, go out in the balcony and see where it comes from.&#8217; Bob
+shouted through the open window, &#8216;De wind come from de Souf.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>I made but one spring, and the blacks vanished. Going below, I
+found the house in commotion. The schooner was to sail at nine
+o&#8217;clock, and the signal would be the report of a two-pounder which the
+captain carried on his quarter-deck. At eight o&#8217;clock I had been all
+over town from the fort to the powder house; looked in at the church,
+where were some fifteen or twenty kneeling, silent and devotional; and
+was seated at breakfast, when we heard the captain&#8217;s gun, an hour before
+the time. &#8216;My God!&#8217; said I, &#8216;I can&#8217;t go without seeing Mrs. J&#8212;&#8212;
+and kind Mrs. G&#8212;&#8212;; and then there&#8217;s the pretty Di. Vernon!&#8217; (I had
+bade them good-by a dozen times.) I rushed into the street, and seeing
+half-a-dozen ladies not far off, gave them a touch-and-go shake; rushed
+up a wrong street, then back again, and finally came out on the square
+and saw the little schooner&#8217;s sails bellied out full; passengers waving
+their handkerchiefs, and the people all around crying out to me to hurry,
+or I should lose my chance. But I <em>didn&#8217;t</em> hurry. The idea of hurry,
+after we had waited six weeks! That captain too, had he been asleep
+all this time, and just awaked? No; I did not hurry, but walked leisurely
+across the square, looking over my shoulder occasionally to see if &#8212;&#8212; was
+any where in sight, for she had promised to be at the dock;
+and passing over the long wharf in the same stubborn way, I stepped
+on board the schooner with a stiffer upper lip than I ever remember to
+have had in that climate. The moment that my feet touched the deck,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page52" name="page52"></a>52</span>the ropes slipped and away flew the schooner; but in all this &#8216;heat,
+haste and hunger,&#8217; from a half-swallowed breakfast, and consignments
+of pacquets and kind wishes that were left behind, the sentiment of my
+last look was burnt to a cinder.</p>
+
+</div><!--Sketches of East-Florida-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">THOUGHTS FROM BULWER.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">BY MRS. M. T. W. CHANDLER.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">It</span> cannot be that earth was given for our abiding place,</p>
+<p>Or that for nought we&#8217;re darkly doomed the storms of life to face;</p>
+<p>It cannot be our being&#8217;s cast from &#8217;neath the ocean wave</p>
+<p>Of vast Eternity, to sink <em>again</em> within its grave.</p>
+<p>Else tell me why the aspiring thoughts, the glorious hopes of man,</p>
+<p>Which spring up from his &#8216;heart of hearts,&#8217; brook not earth&#8217;s narrow span;</p>
+<p>Oh! tell me why unsatisfied forever here they roam,</p>
+<p>And seem to claim in higher spheres a refuge and a home.</p>
+</div>
+
+<h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Why is it that the rainbow and the tints of evening clouds</p>
+<p>Dispel the mists in which the world our spirits still enshrouds?</p>
+<p>The chord they strike!&#8212;oh, tell me not that it can be of earth&#8212;</p>
+<p>The golden heart-string that they touch is <em>not</em> of mortal birth:</p>
+<p>The very buds and blossoms, and the balmy summer air,</p>
+<p>Awake within us shadows vague of things more bright and fair;</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis almost like <em>remembrance</em>&#8212;oh! would that I could tell</p>
+<p>The meaning of that hidden charm my spirit knows so well!</p>
+</div>
+
+<h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A simple tone can rouse it; a smile, or even a sigh</p>
+<p>Can make the ghost-like shadows flit before my dreaming eye;</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis one of life&#8217;s deep mysteries; in vain we seek to trace</p>
+<p>The hidden spell&#8217;s dark origin that chains our feeble race:</p>
+<p>But, oh! may we not fancy, may we not sweetly think,</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis between us and another world a dim mysterious link?</p>
+<p>May we not hope that secret chord from God to man was given,</p>
+<p>To shadow forth within his soul pure images of heaven?</p>
+</div>
+
+<h4 class="subtitle">IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The very stars which pierce the veil far o&#8217;er this world of sin,</p>
+<p>And seem to give faint visions of a paradise within,</p>
+<p>In all their hallowed loveliness, their vague and mystic lore,</p>
+<p>Oh! do they not seem beckoning to a purer, holier shore?</p>
+<p>And tell me why the well-loved eyes which here upon us beam</p>
+<p>Gleam radiantly o&#8217;er our path, then vanish like a dream;</p>
+<p>My <span class="special_name">Mother</span>! oh! my Mother! shall they find belief in me,</p>
+<p>Who tell me there&#8217;s no happy land where I shall meet with thee?</p>
+</div>
+
+<h4 class="subtitle">V.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I <em>know</em> there is a heaven which is peopled not with shades,</p>
+<p>Where the buds and flowers ne&#8217;er wither, and the rainbow never fades:</p>
+<p>Where the mourners cease from mourning, and in smiles of joy are drest,</p>
+<p>Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest:</p>
+<p>Oh! there is gladness in the thought; &#8217;tis deep, deep joy to me</p>
+<p>To feel that those I love so well I there again shall see;</p>
+<p>To know that though around them now my very heart-strings twine,</p>
+<p>They&#8217;ll be forever with me there&#8212;forever more be mine!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div><!--Thoughts from Bulwer-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page53" name="page53"></a>53</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">SONNET: TO THE OLD YEAR.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Good-by</span>, Old Year! we wait to greet the New,</p>
+<p class="i2">And hope within its circling hours to see</p>
+<p class="i2">More of content and less of misery.</p>
+<p>Yet, haply, all life&#8217;s toilsome journey through,</p>
+<p>No happier scenes than thine will meet our view;</p>
+<p class="i2">If so, we humbly bow to Heaven&#8217;s decree,</p>
+<p>With hearts, though wounded, still as firm and true</p>
+<p class="i2">As when we first knelt to the <span class="special_name">Deity</span>.</p>
+<p>Many will weep, Old Year! while thou dost lay</p>
+<p class="i2">Thine aged head within the voiceless tomb.</p>
+<p><em>We</em> weep, yet on the clouds of grief doth play</p>
+<p class="i2">The bow of promise, lighting up their gloom.</p>
+<p>Not so with many hearts that crushed and bleeding lie,</p>
+<p>Whose only thought of gladness is like thee to die!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="location">Brooklyn, Dec., 1843.</span> <span class="author">Hans Von Spiegel.</span></p>
+</div><!--Sonnet: To the Old Year-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">THE MAIL ROBBER.</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle">NUMBER SIX.</h3>
+<h4 class="chapter_head">LETTER TO THE EDITOR FROM HIS ENGLISH CORRESPONDENT.</h4>
+<p><span class="first_word">Sir</span>: My friends abroad complain that my last letter reached them in
+small type, most pernicious to English eyes, and half hidden among the
+rubbish of your editorial remarks, literary notices, and chit-chat with
+your million butterfly correspondents. Unless I am better served in
+future, I shall be compelled to transfer my patronage to the post-office,
+dangerous as it is, and liable to the occasional interference of American
+citizens. I have conferred with an attorney, who tells me that there is
+just ground for an action for breach of trust, in the unfaithful performance
+of the duty you have undertaken. It remains with yourself to
+avert any such consequence, by attending more strictly in future to the
+proper conveyance of my correspondence.</p>
+
+<p>During the last week I have received a note from the gentleman who
+stole the letters. This I enclose to you; and as I do not know where
+to address him, I will simply reply to him, through the Magazine, that
+although I have the highest respect for his talents, I would see him
+several miles on his way to the devil, before I would comply with his
+polite request.</p>
+
+<p class="closing">Truly yours, etc.,</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">&#8212;&#8212; &#8212;&#8212;.</span></p>
+
+<h4 class="chapter_head">THE MAIL ROBBER&#8217;S NOTE.</h4>
+
+<p><span class="first_word">My Dear Friend</span>: You will be surprised that I have found out your
+address, and indeed it required some sagacity. But now that I have,
+you will pardon me for broaching a matter in which we are mutually
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page54" name="page54"></a>54</span>concerned. You must be aware how horribly I have been used by the
+Editor of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, and all through the share I have unfortunately
+had in your troublesome correspondence. He still persists in
+refusing to pay me a proper remuneration for my services, for which
+hitherto, I am sorry to say, I have received only insult and vexation.
+I have been advised by my lawyer to institute a suit at law against the
+miscreant, and matters are now in progress toward that desirable result.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time I have thought proper to apply to your sense of
+justice for a partial compensation of the trouble you have caused me.
+My character has been assailed, my tranquillity disturbed, and my
+valuable time taken up, without a penny of remuneration. Now, Sir,
+if you think fit to transmit to the address of &#8216;M. R.,&#8217; through the post-office,
+a hundred dollars ($100), I will overlook what is past, and resign
+solely to yourself what interest I possess in your epistolary intercourse
+through the pages of that infamous Magazine. With sentiments of
+esteem,</p>
+
+<p class="closing">Yours, as before,</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">M. R.</span></p>
+
+<p class="post_break">&#8216;<span class="first_word">So</span> shaken as we are, so wan with care,&#8217; we begin to wish that we
+had never undertaken the publication of these letters. Between two
+impending law-suits how shall we muster courage to keep on the even
+tenor of our way? Even our staunch friend, the anonymous Public,
+torments us with frequent accusatory epistles, charging us with dulness,
+impiety, and irreverence for American institutions. All these we must
+lay on the back of our Englishman, whose compatriots we confess are
+apt to assume a latitude of style hardly tolerated among us. In the
+mean time, gentle Public, respected Cockney, and worthy Mail-Robber,
+we cry you mercy all round!</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">Ed. Knickerbocker.</span></p>
+
+<h4 class="chapter_title">LETTER SIXTH.</h4>
+
+<h5 class="title">TO CHARLES KEMBLE, ESQUIRE, LONDON.</h5>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Good</span> Cassio, Charles, Mercutio, Benedick,</p>
+<p>(Of all your names I scarce know which to pick,)</p>
+<p>Colossal relic of the nobler time</p>
+<p>When great <span class="special_name">John Philip</span> trod the scene sublime;</p>
+<p>Ay, true Colossus, for like that which strode</p>
+<p>From shore to shore, while seas beneath him flowed,</p>
+<p>You seem to stand between two generations,</p>
+<p>High o&#8217;er the tide of Time and its mutations;</p>
+<p>Be not alarmed; this comes not from a dun,</p>
+<p>Nor any scheming, transatlantic <span class="special_name">Bunn</span>,</p>
+<p>Tempting with golden hopes your waning years,</p>
+<p>Like &#8216;certain stars shot madly from their spheres,&#8217;</p>
+<p>Like <span class="special_name">Mathews</span> or old <span class="special_name">Dowton</span>, to expose</p>
+<p>The shank all shrunken from its youthful hose;</p>
+<p>So boldly read, howe&#8217;er it make you sigh,</p>
+<p>Nor manager nor creditor am I;</p>
+<p>Yet in some sort you are indeed my debtor,</p>
+<p>And owe me for my pains at least a letter.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Not long ago, conversing at the Club</p>
+<p>Which Londoners with &#8216;<span class="special_name">Garrick&#8217;s</span>&#8217; title dub,</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page55" name="page55"></a>55</span>We both confessed, and each with equal grief,</p>
+<p>That poor Melpomene was past relief;</p>
+<p>So many symptoms of her dotage shows</p>
+<p>This nineteenth century of steam and prose.</p>
+<p>Nor in herself, said you, entirely lies</p>
+<p>Th&#8217; incurable complaint whereof she dies;</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis not alone that play-wrights are too poor</p>
+<p>For gods or men or columns to endure;<a href="#fn4" class="fnmarker" id="fnm4" title="By the word 'columnæ,' Horace...">4</a></p>
+<p>Nor that all players in a mould are cast,</p>
+<p>Every new Roscius aping still the last;</p>
+<p>Nor yet that Taste&#8217;s too delicate excess</p>
+<p>Demands perfection and despises less;</p>
+<p>But mere indifference, that worst disease,</p>
+<p>From bard and actor take all power to please.</p>
+<p>How strive to please? when all their friends that were,</p>
+<p>To empty benches empty sounds prefer;</p>
+<p>And seek, like bees attracted by a gong,</p>
+<p>The fairy-land of tip-toe and of song;</p>
+<p>Whether a voice of more than earthly strain</p>
+<p>Be newly sent by Danube or the Seine,</p>
+<p>Or some aërial, thistle-downy thing</p>
+<p>Float from La Scala on a zephyr&#8217;s wing.</p>
+<p>Say, might a <span class="special_name">Siddons</span>, conjured from the tomb,</p>
+<p>Again the scene of her renown illume?</p>
+<p>Could her high art, (ay, even at half price,)</p>
+<p>The crowd from &#8216;La Sonnambula&#8217; entice?</p>
+<p>No; dance and song, the Drama&#8217;s deadly plagues,</p>
+<p><span class="special_name">Rubini&#8217;s</span> notes, and <span class="special_name">Ellsler&#8217;s</span> heav&#8217;nly legs,</p>
+<p>Would nightly still bring amateurs in flocks,</p>
+<p>To watch the bravos of the royal box.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>While thus, between our filberts and our wine,</p>
+<p>We mourned with sighs your mistress&#8217;s decline,</p>
+<p>You half indulged the fond imagination,</p>
+<p>That what seemed death was but her <em>emigration</em>.</p>
+<p>Perhaps, quoth you, and &#8217;twas a bold &#8216;perhaps,&#8217;</p>
+<p>Ere many years of exile shall elapse,</p>
+<p>The wand&#8217;ring maid may find in foreign lands</p>
+<p>More loving hearts and hospitable hands.</p>
+<p>Perchance her feet, with furry buskins graced,</p>
+<p>May shuddering walk the cold Canadian waste,</p>
+<p>And rest contented with a bleak repose</p>
+<p>In shrubless climes of never-thawing snows.</p>
+<p>Yes, in those woods that gird the northern lakes,</p>
+<p>Pathless as yet, and wild with shaggy brakes,</p>
+<p>Or in the rank savannahs of the south,</p>
+<p>Or sea-like prairies near Missouri&#8217;s mouth,</p>
+<p>Fate may conduct her to some sacred spot,</p>
+<p>Where to resume her sceptre and to&#8212;squat.</p>
+<p>Some happier settlement and simpler race,</p>
+<p>Where, though her worship lack its ancient grace,</p>
+<p>New days may dawn, like those of royal <span class="special_name">Bess</span>,</p>
+<p>And every stream a Stratford shall possess;</p>
+<p>Where, though in marshes resonant with frogs,</p>
+<p>And rudely housed in temples built of logs,</p>
+<p>The nymph, regenerate in her classic robe,</p>
+<p>May see revived the &#8216;Fortune&#8217; and the &#8216;Globe.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Such was the dream your fancy dared to mould</p>
+<p>Of what yourself had witnessed here of old;</p>
+<p>When with your twins&#8212;your <span class="special_name">Fanny</span> and your fame&#8212;</p>
+<p>Among our cousins of the west you came;</p>
+<p>But you mistook a momentary fashion</p>
+<p>For a deep-seated and enduring passion:</p>
+<p>Now to your own a friend&#8217;s experience add,</p>
+<p>And judge what grounds your glorious vision had.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page56" name="page56"></a>56</span>Beyond that Cape which mortals christen Cod,</p>
+<p>Where drifted sand-heaps choke the scanty sod,</p>
+<p>Round the rough shore a crooked city clings,</p>
+<p>Sworn foe to queens, it seems, as well as kings.</p>
+<p>On three steep hills it soars, as Rome on seven,</p>
+<p>To claim a near relationship with heaven.</p>
+<p>Fit home for saints! the very name it bears</p>
+<p>A kind of sacred origin declares;</p>
+<p>Ta&#8217;en, as I find by hunting records o&#8217;er,</p>
+<p>From one <span class="special_name">Botolfo</span>, canonized of yore,<a href="#fn5" class="fnmarker" id="fnm5" title="The name of Boston...">5</a></p>
+<p>Whom bards have left nor epitaph nor verse on,</p>
+<p>Though in his day, sans doubt, a decent person:</p>
+<p>This town, in olden times of stake and flame,</p>
+<p>A famous nest of Puritans became;</p>
+<p>Sad, rigid souls, who hated as they ought</p>
+<p>The carnal arms wherewith the Devil fought;</p>
+<p>Dancing and dicing, music, and whate&#8217;er</p>
+<p>Spreads for humanity the hell-born snare.</p>
+<p>Stage-plays especially their hearts abhorred,</p>
+<p>Holding the Muses hateful to the Lord,</p>
+<p>Save when old <span class="special_name">Sternhold</span> and his brother bard</p>
+<p>Oped their hoarse throats and strained an anthem hard.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>From that angelic race of perfect men,</p>
+<p>(Sure seraphs never trod the world &#8217;till then,)</p>
+<p>Descends the race to whom the sway is given</p>
+<p>Of the world&#8217;s morals by confiding Heaven.</p>
+<p>These of each virtue know the market price,</p>
+<p>And shrewdly count the cost of every vice;</p>
+<p>So, to their prudent adage faithful still,</p>
+<p>Are honest more from policy than will.</p>
+<p>As if with heaven a bargain they had made</p>
+<p>To practise goodness and to be well paid.</p>
+<p>They too, devoutly as their fathers did,</p>
+<p>Sin, sack, and sugar equally forbid;</p>
+<p>Holding each hour unpardonably spent</p>
+<p>Which on the ledger leaves no monument;</p>
+<p>While oft they read, with small but pious wit,</p>
+<p>Th&#8217; inscription o&#8217;er the play-house portals writ,</p>
+<p>In a bad sense&#8212;&#8216;<em>The entrance to the Pit.</em>&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Among this godly tribe it was my fate</p>
+<p>To view a triumph they enjoyed of late,</p>
+<p>Which, lest the chroniclers who come hereafter</p>
+<p>Omit, and cheat our children of their laughter,</p>
+<p>I, a <span class="special_name">Daguerre</span>-like sketcher of the time,</p>
+<p>Will faintly shadow as I can in rhyme.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Once these Botolphians, when their boards you trod,</p>
+<p>Received you almost as a demi-god;</p>
+<p>Rushed to the teeming rows in frantic swarms,</p>
+<p>And rained applauses not in showers but storms.</p>
+<p>But should you now their fickle welcome ask,</p>
+<p>Faint shouts would greet the veteran of the mask;</p>
+<p>And ah! what anguish would it be to search</p>
+<p>For your old play-house in a bastard church!</p>
+<p>To find the dome wherein your hour you strutted,</p>
+<p>Altered and maimed and circumcised and gutted;</p>
+<p>Become in truth, all metaphor to drop,</p>
+<p>A mongrel thing&#8212;half chapel and half shop.</p>
+<p>Long had the augur and the priest foretold</p>
+<p>The sad reverse they doomed it to behold;</p>
+<p>Long had the school-boy, as he passed it by,</p>
+<p>And maiden viewed it with presaging eye;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page57" name="page57"></a>57</span>Oft had the wealthy deacon with a frown</p>
+<p>Glared on the pile he longed to batter down,</p>
+<p>And reckoned oft, with sanctimonious air,</p>
+<p>What rents &#8217;twould fetch if purified with prayer;<a href="#fn6" class="fnmarker" id="fnm6" title="At the late opening of the 'Tremont Temple'...">6</a></p>
+<p>While through the green-room whispered rumors went,</p>
+<p>That heaven and earth were on its ruin bent.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Too just a fear! The vision long foreseen</p>
+<p>Has come at last; behold the fallen queen!</p>
+<p>The queen of passion, stripped of all her pride,</p>
+<p>Discrowned, indignant from her temple glide.</p>
+<p>With draggling robe, slip-shod, her buskin loose,</p>
+<p>She flies a barren people&#8217;s cold abuse;</p>
+<p>Summons her sister, who forbears to smile,</p>
+<p>And leaves to rats the desecrated pile,</p>
+<p>Which dogs and nags already had begun,</p>
+<p>Unless by blows and hunger driv&#8217;n, to shun:</p>
+<p>For well-bred curs and steeds genteel contemn</p>
+<p>A stage which Taste had sunk too low for them;</p>
+<p>Whereon the town had seen, without remorse,</p>
+<p>A herd of bisons and a hairless horse!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Behind the two chief mourners of the band</p>
+<p>A sad procession followed, hand in hand;</p>
+<p>Heroes un-heroed, most unknightly knights,</p>
+<p>Wand-broken fairies, disenchanted sprites;</p>
+<p>Dukes no more ducal, even on the bill,</p>
+<p>Milk-livered murd&#8217;rers too ill-fed to kill;</p>
+<p>Mild-looking demons that a babe might daunt,</p>
+<p>Witches and ghosts most naturally gaunt;</p>
+<p>Lovers made pale by keener pangs than love&#8217;s,</p>
+<p>Unspangled princesses with greasy gloves;</p>
+<p>Wits very witless&#8212;grave comedians mute,</p>
+<p>And silent sons of violin and flute.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>After these down-look&#8217;d leaders of the show,</p>
+<p>Who creep like Trajan&#8217;s Dacians, wan and slow,</p>
+<p>Comes a long train of underlings that bear</p>
+<p>Imperial robes that kings no more may wear;</p>
+<p>With truncheons, helmets, thunder-bolts and casks</p>
+<p>Of snow and lightning&#8212;bucklers, foils and masks.</p>
+<p>As tow&#8217;rd the steep of Capitolian Jove</p>
+<p>When chiefs victorious through the rabble strove,</p>
+<p>With all their conquests in their trophies told,</p>
+<p>And every battle mark&#8217;d with plundered gold;</p>
+<p>When the whole glory of the war rolled by,</p>
+<p>And gaping Rome seemed all one mighty eye,</p>
+<p>Behind the living captives came the dead,</p>
+<p>Poor noseless gods, and some without a head,</p>
+<p>With pictures, ivory images and plumes,</p>
+<p>And priceless tapestry from palace-looms;</p>
+<p>Ev&#8217;n such, although Night&#8217;s alchymy no more</p>
+<p>The crinkling tinsel turns to precious ore,</p>
+<p>Appears the pomp of this discarded race,</p>
+<p>As heaped with spoil they quit their ancient place,</p>
+<p>Bearing their Lares with them as they go&#8212;</p>
+<p>Two dusty statues and a bust or so;</p>
+<p>With mail which once a Harry Fifth had on,</p>
+<p>Triumphal cars with all the triumph gone;</p>
+<p>Goblets of tin mixed up with Yorick&#8217;s bones,</p>
+<p>Bags made of togas&#8212;barrows formed of thrones,</p>
+<p>Whereon the majesty of Denmark sat;</p>
+<p>Fie! Juliet&#8217;s petticoats in Wolsey&#8217;s hat!</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page58" name="page58"></a>58</span>Swords hacked at Bosworth, fasces, guns and spears</p>
+<p>Rusted with blood before, and now with tears.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Enough of this: kind prompter, touch the bell!</p>
+<p>Children of mirth and midnight, fare ye well!</p>
+<p>The vision melts away, the motley crowd</p>
+<p>Is veiled by Prospero in a passing cloud;</p>
+<p>Like his dissolving pageantry they fade,</p>
+<p>The vap&#8217;ry stuff whereof our dreams are made;</p>
+<p>No more malignant winter to beguile,</p>
+<p>Nor start the virgin&#8217;s tear, the judge&#8217;s smile;</p>
+<p>Save when some annalist, like me, recalls</p>
+<p>The ancient fame of those degraded walls;</p>
+<p>Or till an age less hateful to the Muse</p>
+<p>To their old shape restore the anxious pews.</p>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">T. W. P.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+</div><!--Mail Robber-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">LETTER FROM JAMES JESSAMINE.</h2>
+<h3 class="subtitle">TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER.</h3>
+<p><span class="first_word">Sir</span>: It has not been until after much reflection on my own part, and
+I must say, very civil encouragement on that of my friend <span class="special_name">Mr. John
+Waters</span>, whose acquaintance I have chanced upon some months
+back, that I have determined to venture, either in the form of an advértisement
+extra, or possibly by your very polite admission of this self-introductory
+letter into your fashionable pages, to submit to the view of
+the more refined and intellectual part of the society of the Atlantic
+cities and particularly to that of New York, the peculiar claim that I
+conceive myself to possess upon their consideration and regard.</p>
+
+<p>I have been hitherto deterred from taking this decisive step, as well
+by the very disturbed and almost turbulent state, which, since my arrival
+in this country, appears to have characterized its monetary concerns&#8212;alas!
+my dear Sir, those horrid yet necessary evils and grievances
+of life!&#8212;as by some expectations I had cause to entertain soon
+after I set foot upon your hospitable shores, of the immediate death of a
+maiden aunt in Cornwall, upon which incident, and her continued celibacy,
+depend very much all my present reversionary hopes.</p>
+
+<p>The health of the old lady being however at my latest intelligence
+unexpectedly reinstated; the cotton crops coming forward as I understand
+to good markets, and the wonderful discovery having been made
+of converting western pork into sallad oil; the Tories being put down,
+and the banks having entered into what some time ago seemed the <i>paulo
+post futurum</i> of specie payments; I desire to share in the general tide
+of prosperity; I launch myself upon it at its flood, discard all reserve,
+and shall descend at once without farther preface into the midst of what
+I have to say.</p>
+
+<p>I came out then some time ago <em>ostensibly</em> to kill a trout or two in
+some of your delicious streams; and indeed I may without presumption
+say en passant that few professors of the Rod excel me either in
+the niceties of my throw, the cool self-possession with which I take my
+fish, or the indomitable perseverance and perfect tact with which I drown
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page59" name="page59"></a>59</span>and then land him with a single hair. I say <em>ostensibly</em>, for I have now
+no desire to conceal from you the ulterior objects that I had in view of
+either making a book to replenish my purse, or of establishing myself
+for life in this your rising land of freedom and big crops.</p>
+
+<p>I have had &#8216;good luck to your fishing&#8217; sung to me more than once by
+most sweet voices, and have realized it to my heart&#8217;s content in the way
+of trout; but this is all. Since I arrived in America there have been
+no less than three travelling historians upon the ground, with whose
+energy of conception, art of fabrication, facility of combination, capacity
+of bitterness and established name, I could not enter the lists.
+And as for matrimonial projects, foreigners seem to me to have no longer
+any hope of success in consequence of the entire pre-occupation of this
+walk of life by a regularly drilled and educated corps of young Americans,
+bred up avowedly with no other pursuit; who talk, think, dream
+of nothing else than fortune by marriage; and with a shrewdness and
+intelligence of calculation that entirely distance the foreigner, (but which
+seem wonderfully after the nuptials to forsake them <em>in stocks of another
+description</em>,) know at a glance the value, expectations, hopes, and dependencies
+of each young marriageable lady even before she comes out; so
+that instead of being able to accomplish a purpose of this kind, I find it
+quite as much as I can do to avoid falling in love beyond repeal with
+the refinement, gentleness, grace, and untold sweetness that distinguish
+the portionless beauties of New-York.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed this class to which I have adverted of licensed fortune-hunters
+is so numerous; the fortunes themselves except to the initiated are so
+uncertain; and the entire want of that most useful profession, <i>les courtiers
+de mariage</i>, is so grievous to all incidental visitors, that I have often
+thought how admirable the arrangement would be, if the young ladies
+were at once to adopt as a fashionable decoration some tasteful head
+ornament, on which should be inscribed, in distinct but graceful characters,
+some one of such legends as the following, which should indicate
+the incontestible possessions of the wearer:</p>
+
+<ul>
+ <li>$30,000 State of New-York Fives.</li>
+ <li>My face is my fortune.</li>
+ <li>$200,000 Indiana State Bonds.</li>
+ <li>2 lots on Broadway, 4 in the Bowery and 1 on Union-Square.</li>
+ <li>Nothing but truth, discretion, intelligence and grace.</li>
+ <li>$60,000 Alabama Sterling Bonds.</li>
+ <li>The Tongues, and what you see.</li>
+ <li>$27,000 on indefeasible Bond and Mortgage.</li>
+ <li>A House and Shop in <i>Maiden-Lane</i> with fixtures, and a careful tenant at 1400 a year on lease three years unexpired.</li>
+ <li>Musick&#8212;four pianos done up since this time last year.</li>
+ <li>30,000 Pine trees and three saw-mills in Saint Lawrence county: N.&nbsp;B., well situated!</li>
+ <li>A large Manufacturing Establishment with unbounded Water-privileges, in Ulster.</li>
+ <li>Life and Trust&#8212;40 shares daily recovering.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<p>The young gentlemen might wear appended to the third button-hole
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page60" name="page60"></a>60</span>of the left breast, epigrammatical notices of &#8216;<span class="small_all_caps">THE EXPECTATIONS</span>&#8217; in
+which they so generally abound, as follows:</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>Uncle Asa has the phthisick, I am his heir.</li>
+<li>As I <span class="small_all_caps">STAND</span>, less my tailor&#8217;s bill of $1800.</li>
+<li>Plenty of <span class="special_name">Lots</span>, covered partly with water, partly with parchment.</li>
+<li>In full and successful business, owing only four times our capital, due us five times, chiefly in Mississippi. Expect to retire in two years and enjoy life.</li>
+<li>Two-and-six-pence in my pocket, with great but indefinable hopes.</li>
+<li>A <em>promising</em> young member of the Bar. Three suits;&#8212;&#9758;<!--a hand pointing right--> one of them in court. Grant me my fourth!</li>
+</ul>
+
+<p>A young lady, whose nice tact and discriminating judgment are only
+rivalled by her sweetness of disposition and exquisite personal attractions,
+has divided the world of beaux into three generick classes:</p>
+
+<ol>
+<li>The Rich who are afraid of us;</li>
+<li>The Poor whom we are afraid of;</li>
+<li>The Detrimentalists.</li>
+</ol>
+
+<p>The plan I propose would aid manifestly in the due classification of
+all assistants at a ball. It is not to be thought that the sex is governed
+by any mercenary motive; but in the present organization of society a
+certain degree of attention to the mode in which matrimonial establishments
+are to be sustained is absolutely imperative.</p>
+
+<p>Conceive then Mr. Editor how this explicit course would remove the
+ordinary impediments on both sides. One single <i>tour de Valse</i> and the
+whole affair might be adjusted! The gentleman forsakes the lady&#8217;s
+eyes and fixes his own upon her tiara; she hers upon his eloquent button-hole.
+During the slow movement they have deciphered the mottoes,
+have ascertained, (no small desideratum in a crowded ball-room!) each
+the exact value of his or her partner; they have arrived in thought, as
+far as mere expediency goes, each at a decision; and are ready for
+question and answer at the close of the accelerated step.</p>
+
+<p>By the way, as the waltz is now conducted, the employment of the
+eyes during the slow sentimental movement seems frequently to the lady
+a matter of some degree of embarrassment; and the method I propose
+would effectually remove any thing of the sort. There could be no
+want of an object on which to rest them; no looking with a fixed gaze
+over the partner&#8217;s shoulder; no consulting of the cornice; no care-fraught
+expression; no reluctant or displeased look, as if the lady would
+have fain declined; no indeterminate thoughts, no indefinite sensations;
+no languishment; and above all never more the portentous, the ominous
+look which often in that entrancing dance exhibits to us the mysticism
+of the Sybil, without one ray of her inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>No; then would the lady look, read, decide, and dance the while.
+&#8216;This might do!&#8217;&#8212;then would she sparkle. &#8216;Ah this would never
+do!&#8217;&#8212;then would she become placid, tranquil, and complete her tour
+with contentment; for as I think some one else has before me wisely
+observed, <em>the end of doubt is the beginning of repose</em>. Then would the
+faces of the ladies generally become vastly more attractive than at
+present during the enjoyment of the waltz; for singular as may seem
+the remark, although I have assisted at several New-York balls, I have
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page61" name="page61"></a>61</span>met two countenances only throughout the whole galaxy of beauty that,
+in dancing the Waltz, have indicated either joy or undisturbed gratification:
+the one, is that of a little sylph-like beam of pleasure, who
+might well carry upon her beautiful hair, &#8216;unincumbered lots,&#8217; as her
+wedding-portion; who gains our hearts while she laughs at us; and
+who, because I chance to be within half a score of her father&#8217;s years,
+threatens to call me her <i>vieux chéri</i>&#8212;while the name of the other, if I
+dared write it, would recall the most tasteful and fashionable costumes
+of France, with the sweetest poetry of Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>But alas my master! I have gone prattling on without saying a
+word of my own pretensions until my letter has gained such a length
+that I am forced to defer them to another number, while I subscribe
+myself, dear Mr. Editor of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>,</p>
+
+<p class="closing">Your most faithful servant,</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">James Jessamine.</span></p>
+
+</div><!--Jessamine's Letter-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">LOVE&#8217;S ELYSIUM.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF MATTHISSON BY WILLIAM PITT PALMER.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Grove</span>! embathed in peace celestial,</p>
+<p class="i2">As in dew the rose&#8217;s bowers,</p>
+<p>Where Hesperia&#8217;s golden fruitage</p>
+<p class="i2">Ripens amid silver flowers;</p>
+<p>Where a rosy-colored ether</p>
+<p class="i2">Ever cloudless bends above,</p>
+<p>Through whose calm abysses never</p>
+<p class="i2">Breathed the sigh of slighted love.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="special_word">Psyche</span>, with a strange emotion,</p>
+<p class="i2">Half enraptured, half dismayed,</p>
+<p>Just escaped her earthly vesture,</p>
+<p class="i2">Trembling greets thy glimmering shade:</p>
+<p>Where, O joy! no misty mantle</p>
+<p class="i2">Veils her primal purity;</p>
+<p>And her immaterial pinions,</p>
+<p class="i2">Like an angel&#8217;s, wander free.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Ha! e&#8217;en now o&#8217;er paths of roses,</p>
+<p class="i2">Glorious shape of light, she sweeps,</p>
+<p>Tow&#8217;rd the shadow-peopled valley</p>
+<p class="i2">Where the sacred Lethe sleeps;</p>
+<p>Thither drawn by magic suasion,</p>
+<p class="i2">As by gentle spirits led,</p>
+<p>Fain she sees the silver billows,</p>
+<p class="i2">And their flowery shores outspread.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Kneeling low with sweet foreboding</p>
+<p class="i2">Griefs oblivious draught to taste,</p>
+<p>Softly shines her trembling image</p>
+<p class="i2">In that faithful mirror traced;</p>
+<p>As from ocean&#8217;s tranquil waters</p>
+<p class="i2">Fair the cloudless moon outbeams,</p>
+<p>Or from crystal stream reflected</p>
+<p class="i2">Hesper&#8217;s golden cresset gleams.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Not in vain she quaffs of Lethe;</p>
+<p class="i2">For, anon, within the stream</p>
+<p>Sinks the night-part of her being,</p>
+<p class="i2">Like the phantom of a dream;</p>
+<p>And from out the vale of shadows</p>
+<p class="i2">Bright she soars on fearless wing,</p>
+<p>To the hills whose golden blossoms</p>
+<p class="i2">Smile in everlasting spring.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>What an awe-inspiring silence!</p>
+<p class="i2">Softer calm than zephyr breathes</p>
+<p>Murmurs in the laurel foliage</p>
+<p class="i2">And the amaranthine wreaths:</p>
+<p>Thus in sacred stillness rested</p>
+<p class="i2">Air and wave&#8212;in such repose</p>
+<p>Slumbered nature, when from ocean</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="special_name">Anadyomene</span> rose.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>What an unaccustomed glory!</p>
+<p class="i2">Earth! though fair Aurora be,</p>
+<p>Never from her vernal features</p>
+<p class="i2">Shone such magic light for thee:</p>
+<p>Lo! the ivy&#8217;s glossy tendrils</p>
+<p class="i2">Bathed in purple lustre gleam,</p>
+<p>And the flowers that crown each fountain</p>
+<p class="i2">With a starry splendor beam!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thus in silvan wilds the dawning,</p>
+<p class="i2">When the modest Cynthia spied</p>
+<p>From the skies her sleeping lover,</p>
+<p class="i2">And descended to his side;</p>
+<p>While the fields were bathed in brightness,</p>
+<p class="i2">And in magic tones expressed,</p>
+<p>Heavenly greetings murmured sweetly&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i2">Hail, <span class="special_name">Endymion</span> the blest!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div><!--Love's Elysium-->
+<div class="article">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page62" name="page62"></a>62</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">GANGUERNET: OR, &#8216;A CAPITAL JOKE.&#8217;</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY JOHN HUNTER.</h3>
+<p><span class="first_word">Mine</span> is called Ganguernet: I say mine, for you have all had yours;
+every one, at least once in his life-time, has met with one of those little
+fat, ruddy, burly men, with straight close-cropped hair, low forehead,
+grey eyes, broad nose, puffed-up cheeks, the neck between the shoulders,
+the shoulders in the stomach, the stomach upon the legs; a sort of a
+Punch figure, rolling, bawling, laughing, hallooing; one of those fellows
+who come stealthily behind you, clap their hands on your head,
+and cry out suddenly: &#8216;Who&#8217;s this?&#8217; Who pull away your chair at
+the moment you are going to sit down; who snatch from you your
+handkerchief just when you wish to use it; and who, on these occasions,
+when you look at them with an angry air, answer you with a
+broad grin, and a stare of imperturbable assurance: &#8216;<em>A capital joke!</em>&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>You have had yours; and mine is named Ganguernet. My first
+acquaintance with him was at Rheims. He was a complete adept in
+his profession, and as a regular joke-player, master of all the tricks of
+his trade. Well skilled was he in the art of attaching a piece of meat
+to the bell-rope of a porter&#8217;s lodge, so that all the wandering dogs about
+town would snap at the tempting bait, and awaken the mystified domestics
+ten times a night. Very expert was he also at cutting tradesmen&#8217;s
+signs in two pieces, and substituting one for another. On one occasion
+he took the sign of a hair-dresser, cut it in two, and added the latter
+part to that of one of my neighbours; so that it read as follows: <em>Monsieur
+Roblot lets out carriages and false toupées, after the Paris fashion</em>.</p>
+
+<p>But if M. Ganguernet was not the most agreeable companion in the
+city, still less so was he in the country, where indeed his presence, to
+me at least, was always a perfect nuisance. He knew how to scatter
+the hair, adroitly clipped from a brush, between the sheets of a friend,
+so that the victim, before he had been a quarter of an hour in bed, would
+become furious with the itching. He would pierce the partition between
+two sleeping apartments, so as to pass through it a piece of twine
+which he had cunningly fastened to your bed-clothes, and then, when
+he found that you were asleep, he would gently pull the string, until the
+covering was all drawn down to your feet. You awake half-frozen, for
+Ganguernet always chooses a cold damp night for this trick, draw up
+the covering, wrap yourself carefully up, and very innocently resume
+your slumbers; then Ganguernet, gently pulling his cord, again strips
+you naked; again you are benumbed with cold; and when you begin
+to utter imprecations in the dark, his detestable voice is heard bawling
+through the hole: &#8216;What a capital joke!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Did Ganguernet chance to fall in with one of those simple-minded
+individuals, whose countenances invite mystification, he would steal from
+him during his sleep his coat and pantaloons, whose dimensions with
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page63" name="page63"></a>63</span>needle and thread he would contrive greatly to diminish. He would
+then awaken his victim, begging him to dress himself as soon as possible,
+and join a hunting-party. The unsuspecting subject of the joke,
+thus suddenly roused, would try to put on his pantaloons, but could not
+get into them. &#8216;Good Heavens!&#8217; exclaims Ganguernet, with affected
+astonishment; &#8216;why, what is the matter, my dear Sir?&#8212;you are terribly
+swollen!&#8217; &#8216;Am I?&#8217; &#8216;You are indeed, prodigiously!&#8217; &#8216;Do you really
+mean it?&#8217; &#8216;I may be mistaken, but come dress yourself, and let us go
+down, and see what the others say.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But I cannot get on my clothes.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ah! that&#8217;s it, you are so puffed up. It must be a thundering attack
+of the dropsy!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>And this would continue, the poor fellow, pale and trembling, in vain
+endeavoring to get on his clothes, until the tormentor, with a hideous
+chuckle, would come out with his famous sentence: &#8216;Ha! ha! a capital
+joke!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was one of his tricks which appeared to me to be truly abominable.
+He played it upon a person reputed to be a brave man, but
+who was nevertheless horribly frightened. One night, after getting
+snugly into bed, this gentleman felt something cold and slimy along
+side of him, he touched it with his foot; it seemed a round elongated
+body; he placed his hand upon it; it was a serpent coiled upon itself!
+In an ecstacy of terror, he leaped from the bed with a cry of disgust and
+horror, when Ganguernet made his appearance, shaking his fat sides
+and roaring out: &#8216;What a capital joke!&#8217; It was an eel-skin filled
+with water, that had caused the panic. The enraged gentleman would
+have broken the head of the joker, but Ganguernet throwing a pitcher
+of water over the sans-culotte sufferer, made his escape, yelling out at
+the top of his voice: &#8216;A capital joke!&#8212;a capital joke!&#8217; The master
+of the house and his guests came running in at the outcry, and with
+much difficulty succeeded in pacifying the mystified individual; assuring
+him that Ganguernet, though fond of fun, was in the main a
+charming good fellow, a pleasant boon companion, and one without
+whom, especially in the country, it was impossible to drive away ennui.</p>
+
+<p>Our readers may perhaps think with us, that, on the contrary, this
+man was one of those insufferable beings who are constantly intruding
+upon the pleasures and comforts of others; like a dog in a game of nine-pins,
+overturning with his paws all the arrangements of your joys and
+sorrows; more insupportable, and more difficult to get rid of than the
+dog, they lie in ambush to pounce upon you, and disconcert by a word
+or a trick the feelings you may enjoy, or the projects you intend.</p>
+
+<p>Among characters of this description, there are some whom their
+common-place attempts at wit consign to contempt. These performers
+confine themselves to vulgar and stale jokes. To thrust the head through
+the paper window-pane of a cobbler, and ask him the address of a minister
+of finances, or an archbishop; to stretch a cord across a staircase,
+so as to cause those who descend to take, in the words of a punster, a
+<em>voyage sur la rein</em>, or &#8216;a voyage upon the Rhine;&#8217; to wake up a notary
+in the middle of the night, and send him in great haste to draw up a
+will for a client, whom he finds in good health; these and a thousand
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page64" name="page64"></a>64</span>other silly pranks of the same nature, are the stock in trade of a jester;
+and no one knew them better than did Ganguernet.</p>
+
+<p>He had, moreover, invented some original tricks, which had given
+him a colossal reputation among the admirers of this branch of the fine
+arts. The only truly witty one I ever knew him to perpetrate, took
+place at a country-house where a large party of us were assembled.
+Among the guests, Ganguernet had singled out a lady of some thirty
+years, rather fantastic in her manners and appearance, who was doatingly
+fond of Parisian elegance, and who preferred the pale face of a
+well-looking youth of rather shallow intellect, to the coarse, purple visage
+of Ganguernet. Our humourist endeavored in vain to render this
+youth ridiculous in the eyes of the lady, who regarded his simplicity as
+a poetical absence of mind, and his credulity as an indication of sincerity
+and honest good faith. One evening, after a brisk defence of the
+pale-faced youth on the part of the lady, which was listened to by Ganguernet
+with a patience and a peculiar expression of the eye which
+boded no good, we had all retired to our apartments. In about half
+an hour, the house resounded with loud outcries of &#8216;fire! fire!&#8217; which
+seemed to proceed from the hall upon the ground-floor. Every one
+hastened thither, men and women half-dressed, or half-undressed, which
+ever you please. They entered pell-mell, candlestick in hand, and
+there found Ganguernet stretched upon a sofa. To the reiterated questions
+that were put him as to the cause of the clamor, he answered not
+a word; but taking the pale-faced young man by the hand in a very
+solemn manner, and leading him up to the fine lady, gravely said to
+her: &#8216;I have the honor, Madam, of presenting to you the most poetic
+genius of the company in a cotton night-cap.&#8217; We all burst into a shout
+of laughter, but the lady never forgave Ganguernet, nor the cotton
+night-cap.</p>
+
+<p>All the jokes which Ganguernet played, however, were not prompted
+by vengeance; a spirit of fun merely being the grand principle of most
+of his tricks. Before we come to the occurrence which showed this
+man to me in his true colors, I must relate a few more of the humorous
+pranks in which he took the greatest pride. Opposite his residence at
+Rennes there dwelt a worthy pair of venerable citizens, who were the
+sole occupants of a small house, which was their only possession.
+Once a week this honest couple were in the habit of dining, and having
+a little game of piquet with a relation, who resided at some distance
+from their abode. On these occasions they were usually regaled with
+curds and whey, which they moistened with sparkling cider; and not
+unfrequently a bowl of punch concluded the repast; so that the worthy
+pair commonly returned home about eleven o&#8217;clock, singing and staggering
+along in a state of happy elevation.</p>
+
+<p>On a certain fatal Sunday evening, these good folks returned to their
+abode, both of them pretty much, &#8216;how came you so.&#8217; They arrived
+at the door of their next neighbour, which they recognized, and then
+proceeded on ten paces farther, which was just the distance to their own
+door. The husband, after fumbling in his pocket for the key of the
+street-door, pulled it out, and sought the key-hole; but no key-hole was
+to be found. &#8216;What has become of the key-hole?&#8217; cried he. &#8216;You
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page65" name="page65"></a>65</span>have drank too much cider, Monsieur Larquet,&#8217; said his wife; &#8216;you
+are looking for the key-hole, and we are still before the wall of neighbour
+Bompart.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That is true,&#8217; replied Monsieur Larquet; &#8216;we must go a few paces
+farther.&#8217; They walked on; but this time they went too far, for as they
+had before recognized the door of their right-hand neighbor, they now
+found themselves in front of that of their neighbor on the left hand.
+Their own door ought to be between these two doors. They return,
+groping along the wall until they come to a door, which to their consternation
+they again find to be that of their right-hand neighbor! The
+honest couple become alarmed about the soundness of their wits, and
+begin to suspect that they must certainly both be tipsy. They recommence
+their inspections from the door of their neighbor on the right,
+and again come to the door of their neighbor on the left. They constantly
+find these two doors, but not a vestige of their own: their door
+has disappeared&#8212;vanished! Who could have taken away their door?
+Terror seizes them; they ask each other if they have become demented;
+and dreading the ridicule which would be cast upon honest citizens
+who could not find their own street-door, they grope about for more than
+an hour, feeling, poking, inspecting, measuring; but alas! there is no
+door; there is nothing but a wall, an unknown wall, an implacable
+wall, a desperate wall! At length, terror completely overpowers them;
+they utter loud cries, and call lustily for assistance. The neighbors
+are attracted by the noise, and after some time, it is ascertained that
+the door of the distracted couple has been carefully bricked up, and
+plastered over; and when all are trying to discover who could have
+played such a pitiful trick upon these honest people, Ganguernet,
+who from an opposite window, in company with some kindred spirits,
+had been enjoying the tribulation and despair of Monsieur and Madame
+Larquet, Ganguernet shouts out his everlasting refrain: &#8216;A capital
+joke!&#8217; But, answered the neighbors, these poor folks will take their
+death of cold.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bah!&#8217; replies he; &#8216;a capital joke!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The incensed neighbors petitioned the king&#8217;s attorney to moderate
+Monsieur Ganguernet&#8217;s strong inclination to play his mischievous
+pranks; and the magistrate sent our hero to prison for some days, in
+spite of his skilful defence, which consisted in incessantly repeating:
+&#8216;A capital joke!&#8212;what a capital joke, Mr. Magistrate!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding his excessive vanity, Ganguernet did not, however,
+make boast of all his exploits; and there was one, the authorship of
+which he constantly denied, possibly in consequence of a threat that
+was held out of cutting off the author&#8217;s ears, should he be detected.
+The trick in question was prompted by the contempt in which he was
+held in a certain aristocratic circle; and the subject was no less a personage
+than an ancient dame of high birth, and great pretensions, who
+mingled in the most fashionable society of Rennes.</p>
+
+<p>Among other customs of the old school, which this lady retained,
+were the following: First, that of never mixing in the society of those
+of plebeian descent, such as Ganguernet: and secondly; that of always
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page66" name="page66"></a>66</span>being carried in a sedan-chair by porters, when she went abroad. One
+evening she went to a ball, given by the first president of the court of
+assizes, a ball at which Ganguernet was also present. She left about
+midnight, carried as usual in her sedan-chair through a pelting shower
+of rain. At the moment she got under one of those loop-holes in the
+eaves-gutters, through which the rain pours down into the street in long
+dashing cascades, two or three shrill whistles were heard on the right
+and left hand. Immediately four men in masks made their appearance,
+at sight of whom the porters, abandoning their charge, took to their
+heels; but at the moment when the noble dame believed herself on the
+point of being assassinated, a terrible dash of cold water upon her head
+took away her breath, and almost deprived her of consciousness. The
+top of the chair had disappeared as if by magic, and the gutter poured
+its contents directly into the vehicle, the occupant of which in vain attempted
+to force open the door. She beat and thumped against it with
+fury, mounted the seat, and like an incarnate fiend, invoked the divine
+wrath upon the vile miscreants, who were giving her such a cruel
+shower-bath; and who only replied to her invectives by profound bows,
+and the most humble salutations. The worst part of this wicked trick
+was, that the lady wore hair-powder, and the mystifiers carried umbrellas.</p>
+
+<p>My acquaintance with Ganguernet continued about ten years. In
+the low and vulgar circles of society which he was fond of frequenting,
+he was held up as the most jovial, the best-natured, and the most
+amusing fellow in the world; although there were some, whose sense
+of propriety and moral feelings were not entirely destroyed, who held
+him in merited contempt. For my own part, I always had a dread of
+the man. That odious smile, forever hanging on those large red lips,
+singularly annoyed me; that imperturbable gayety, exhibited on all occasions
+of life, troubled me like the constant presence of a hideous
+phantom; that phrase, which he appended like a moral to every thing
+he did, that detested phrase, &#8216;A capital joke,&#8217; sounded in my ears as
+doleful and sombre as the Trappists&#8217; motto, &#8216;<em>Brother, we must die</em>!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was a fatality about the man; and it was destined that a life
+should be sacrificed to his mad propensity for mischief. A day came,
+on which his famous words, &#8216;A capital joke!&#8217; was to be pronounced
+over a tomb.</p>
+
+<p>On the eve of my departure from Rennes, some friends invited me to
+join a hunting-party, of which I learned that Ganguernet was to make
+one. This name took from me in advance half the pleasure I had anticipated.
+I however repaired early in the morning to the house of one
+of our friends, Ernest de B&#8212;&#8212;. On my arrival I found Ganguernet
+there with some others of the party. Ernest had just finished a letter,
+which he sealed, directed, and placed upon the chimney-piece. Ganguernet,
+in his usual inquisitive and impertinent manner, took it up, and
+read the direction. &#8216;Ah ha!&#8217; said he; &#8216;so you correspond with your
+pretty cousin, do you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; said Ernest, with an air of indifference; &#8216;I have informed
+her that we intend visiting her chateau this evening, at about seven
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page67" name="page67"></a>67</span>o&#8217;clock, to take dinner there. There are fifteen of us I think, and we
+shall run some risk of having but poor fare, if she does not get timely
+notice.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Ernest rang for a servant, and gave him the letter, without any of us
+noticing that Ganguernet disappeared for a moment with him. We set
+off on our expedition. While engaged in the chase, it so happened that
+Ganguernet and myself took one side of the plain on which we were
+hunting, while the rest of the party pursued their sport on the other.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We shall have some fun this evening,&#8217; said he to me.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;How so?&#8217; replied I.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Would you believe it? I have given a louis to the servant that he
+should not carry the letter to its address.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And have you taken it?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, pardieu! I told him we were going to have a little joke this
+evening, and that he must carry the letter to the lady&#8217;s husband. He
+is sitting this moment as president of the court of assizes, and when he
+finds that he is going to have fifteen stout fellows, with keen appetites,
+at his house this evening, he will be in a devil of a rage. He is as
+miserly as Harpagon; and the idea of our laying his kitchen and wine-cellar
+under contribution will put him in such a humor, that he will
+have no scruple in condemning a dozen innocent men, so that he may
+reach his country-house in time to prevent the pillage.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;If this is the case,&#8217; said I to Ganguernet, &#8216;it seems to me to be a
+very malicious jest.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bah! a capital joke! And the best of it will be when we all arrive
+at the chateau. The others, ravenous with hunger and thirst, will expect
+to find there an excellent supper. But there will be nothing&#8212;absolutely
+nothing!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And do you think, Sir,&#8217; replied I, &#8216;that this will be any pleasanter
+to me than to the rest of the party? And you yourself, will you not be
+one of the principal dupes of your frolic?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Let me alone for that! Look you here; I&#8217;ve got a cold fowl and
+a bottle of Bordeaux in my game-bag, and you shall have half.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I thank you,&#8217; said I, &#8216;but I had rather find Ernest, and notify him of
+your trick.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ah! good heavens! my dear Sir,&#8217; said Ganguernet, &#8216;you cannot
+take a joke.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>I left him, and apprising our friends of the affair, inquired where I
+could find Ernest. I was told that he had gone in the direction of the
+chateau of his cousin, toward which I proceeded, intending to give
+Madame de L&#8212;&#8212; notice of the trick of Ganguernet. At a turn of the
+road I perceived Ernest at a distance, going toward the chateau. I increased
+my speed in order to overtake him, and made so much haste
+that I arrived almost at the same moment with him, so that he had just
+passed the gate as I reached it. As I was about entering, the gate was
+violently pulled to, and immediately I heard the report of a pistol, and
+then a voice cried out: &#8216;Villain! since I have missed you, defend
+yourself!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>I hastily sprang to a grating in the wall, about the height of my head,
+which opened into the court-yard, and there witnessed a frightful spectacle.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page68" name="page68"></a>68</span>The husband, sword in hand, was attacking Ernest with desperate
+fury. &#8216;Ah! you love her and she loves you!&#8217; cried he, in a
+voice hoarse with passion; &#8216;you love her, do you? and she loves you!
+Your turn first, and then hers!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The letter from Ernest to his cousin, conveyed by the malicious interference
+of Ganguernet to her husband, had apprised him of a secret
+which had remained hidden for more than four years; and before redressing
+the wrongs of society as a magistrate, the president of the
+court had hastened to avenge his own as a husband.</p>
+
+<p>In vain I cried, in vain I called by name the two cousins. Monsieur de
+L&#8212;&#8212; with blind fury drove Ernest from one corner of the court to
+another. Suddenly a window opened, and Madame de L&#8212;&#8212;, pale,
+with dishevelled hair, and terror painted on her countenance, appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Leonie!&#8217; cried Ernest, &#8216;withdraw!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No! let her remain!&#8217; exclaimed Monsieur de L&#8212;&#8212;, &#8216;she is a
+prisoner; you need not fear that she will come to separate us.&#8217; And
+he again rushed upon his cousin with such fury that the fire flew from
+their swords.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is I&#8212;it is <em>I</em> who deserve death!&#8217; cried Madame de L&#8212;&#8212;; &#8216;kill
+<em>me</em>!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>I added my cries to theirs. I shouted, I shook the grating. I tried
+to scale the wall, when suddenly, urged on by despair, bewildered, distracted,
+Madame de L&#8212;&#8212; threw herself from the window and fell
+between her lover and her husband. The latter, completely beside
+himself with passion, directed his sword toward her. But Ernest turned
+it aside, and in his turn casting off all restraint, exclaimed with vehemence:
+&#8216;Madman! would you kill her? Well, then&#8212;defend yourself!&#8217;
+And immediately he commenced a violent assault upon his antagonist.</p>
+
+<p>I could do nothing to separate them; neither could Madame de
+L&#8212;&#8212;. The unfortunate woman had broken a limb in the fall, and
+lay groaning upon the pavement. It was a dreadful combat. Nothing
+can express the violent terror which seized me. Already the blood of
+the two cousins began to flow, which only served to increase their rage.
+I had succeeded with some difficulty in climbing to the top of the wall,
+and was about to leap into the court, when I perceived some of our
+friends approaching. Ganguernet was at their head; he drew near,
+calling to me:</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Halloo! what&#8217;s this? Why, you bawl like a man getting flayed;
+we heard you a quarter of a league off. What the devil is the matter?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>At the sight of this detested wretch, I rushed upon him, seized him
+by the throat, and forcing him violently against the grating, I cried to
+him in my turn: &#8216;Look there, miserable jester!&#8212;&#8216;a capital joke!&#8217; is
+it not?&#8212;a &#8216;capital joke!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Monsieur de L&#8212;&#8212;, pierced through the heart by a plunge of his
+antagonist&#8217;s sword, was lying by the side of his wife.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest has left France to die in a foreign land. Madame de L&#8212;&#8212;
+committed suicide the day after this horrible duel.</p>
+
+<p class="punchline">&#8216;A CAPITAL JOKE!&#8217;</p>
+
+</div><!--A Captial Joke!-->
+<div class="article">
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page69" name="page69"></a>69</span>
+<h2 class="title">APOSTROPHE TO AN OLD HAT.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">BY JOHN G. SAXE.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Come</span> forth, Old Hat! I&#8217;ll pluck thee from the ditch,</p>
+<p>Where thou hadst well nigh found a grave, &#8216;unwept,</p>
+<p>Unhonor&#8217;d and unsung.&#8217; I&#8217;ll rescue thee</p>
+<p>A moment longer from oblivion,</p>
+<p>Albeit thou art old, bereaved of rim,</p>
+<p>And like a prince dethroned, no more canst boast</p>
+<p>A crown!</p>
+<p class="i10">Would thou couldst talk! I&#8217;d e&#8217;en consent</p>
+<p>That thou shouldst steal my prating grandame&#8217;s tongue,</p>
+<p>And so procure her silence and thy history.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Time-worn, adust, degraded as thou art,</p>
+<p>Thine ancient quality doth still appear;</p>
+<p>And this fine web, malgré thy present mien,</p>
+<p>(A batter&#8217;d cylinder of dingy brown,)</p>
+<p>Proclaims that once, some dozen years ago,</p>
+<p>Thou wert a good and fashionable hat.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Perchance thou first wert perch&#8217;d right jauntily</p>
+<p>A-top some dandy&#8217;s poll; a most convenient block</p>
+<p>To keep thee in good shape, and serve beside</p>
+<p>One purpose more&#8212;to advertise thy brethren.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Mayhap a lawyer, in thy pristine years</p>
+<p>And his, with thy possession much enhanced</p>
+<p>His meagre sum of personal estate;</p>
+<p>And, in phrase professional, call&#8217;d thee &#8216;chattel&#8217;&#8212;</p>
+<p>A vile distinction for a beaver hat!</p>
+<p>A lawyer&#8217;s hat!&#8212;alack! what teeming store-house oft</p>
+<p>Of mischiefs dire; ill-boding parchment; &#8216;writs,&#8217;</p>
+<p>With hieroglyphics mystical inscribed;</p>
+<p>Invention curious of graceless men,</p>
+<p>And in sad mock&#8217;ry named &#8216;the grace of God!&#8217;</p>
+<p>What mighty &#8216;suits at law,&#8217; begot and born</p>
+<p>Within thy strait enclosure, yet survive</p>
+<p>Thy tenth successor! And what mighty &#8216;suits</p>
+<p>In chancery,&#8217; (so named from <span class="special_name">Chance</span>, who sits</p>
+<p>Alternate there and in the legal courts,)</p>
+<p>Still flourish, endless as the heap of words</p>
+<p>Which mark the spot where Justice lies entomb&#8217;d!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Perhaps at first thou wert allow&#8217;d to crown</p>
+<p>The &#8216;honorable&#8217; head of some grave senator;</p>
+<p>Or judge astute; or member of &#8216;the other</p>
+<p>House;&#8217; pregnant perforce with weighty matters;</p>
+<p>&#8216;Petitions&#8217; humbly praying to abolish</p>
+<p>Slavery and &#8216;hard times.&#8217; &#8216;Bills&#8217; to promote</p>
+<p>The better culture of morality</p>
+<p>And morus multicaulis! Mayhap a brief</p>
+<p>And formal letter to a brother member,</p>
+<p>In courteous phrase requesting leave to shoot him.</p>
+<p>&#8216;Notes,&#8217; &#8216;Resolutions,&#8217; &#8216;Speeches&#8217; of vast length,</p>
+<p>And just adapted to produce what thou</p>
+<p>Hast wanted many a year&#8212;a decent <em>nap</em>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Perchance an editor, by some mysterious accident</p>
+<p>Made passing rich with five-and-forty shillings,</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page70" name="page70"></a>70</span>First bore thee off in triumph; &#8217;tis pity then</p>
+<p>Thou canst not speak; else should we hear</p>
+<p>Of much before unpublished; of countless &#8216;bills&#8217;</p>
+<p>Unpaid; of libels prudently suppress&#8217;d;</p>
+<p>Of &#8216;Stanzas&#8217; much, of &#8216;Lines&#8217; innumerable;</p>
+<p>And love-sick &#8216;Songs&#8217; to goddesses mundane,</p>
+<p>All wickedly committed to the Persian&#8217;s god!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thou mayst have crown&#8217;d a parson, and couldst tell,</p>
+<p>If thou hadst power of verbal utterance,</p>
+<p>Of &#8216;the divinity that stirred within thee&#8217;</p>
+<p>In shape of sermons; faithful or smooth-tongued,</p>
+<p>As he who wrote them chanced to covet most</p>
+<p>The smile of God or man. A lover&#8217;s hat</p>
+<p>Thou surely wert, (since all men love,</p>
+<p>Who have a head,) and oft no doubt hast given</p>
+<p>To scented billet-doux and amorous rhymes</p>
+<p>Thy friendly guardianship; secure from aught</p>
+<p>Save lifting winds and porter&#8217;s curious eye.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>At second-hand &#8217;tis ten to one thou wert</p>
+<p>A Jew&#8217;s possession, got in honest barter;</p>
+<p>Next, John the ostler&#8217;s; last of all, past doubt</p>
+<p>A vagrant&#8217;s hat; the equitable purchase</p>
+<p>Of an ill-sung song. Till quite worn out</p>
+<p>With rain, and wind, and sleet, and other &#8216;ills</p>
+<p>Thy race is heir to,&#8217; the beggar cast thee</p>
+<p>From his plebeian pate&#8212;and here thou liest.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="location">St. Alban&#8217;s, Vermont.</span></p>
+</div><!--Apostrophe to a Hat-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">THE COUNTRY.</h2>
+<p><span class="first_word">There</span> is something very pleasant in the country, particularly about
+Thanksgiving-time, when families gather together from north, south,
+east and west, around the huge roast turkey, and many pairs of jaws
+masticate vigorously in gratitude for blessings received. At this season
+of the year the bird which was fortunate enough to excite the enthusiasm
+of Brillat-Savarin, and to be the theme of many chapters in his
+immortal &#8216;Physiologie,&#8217; is the emblem of our republic. A bald eagle
+indeed! Who ever heard of a roast eagle? But a turkey:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;The state of a fat turkey, the decorum</p>
+<p>He marches in with, all the train and circumstance!</p>
+<p>&#8217;Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter!</p>
+<p>And then his sauce with oranges and onions;</p>
+<p>And he displayed in all parts! for such a dish now,</p>
+<p>And at my need, I would betray my father.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>What native American does not respond <em>Amen!</em> from the depths of
+his stomach to these appetizing verses of Beamount and Fletcher? But
+higher far rises the gastronomic phrenzy of the Travelled, who have
+known the bird, grand in his stuffing of chestnuts, sublime when swelling
+with the bliss-bringing truffle!</p>
+<p>And the country is at all seasons a pleasant idea, if properly considered;
+but beware of the man of one idea, if that one be Country, as you
+would of the <i>homo unius libri</i>. If you cannot distinguish timothy from
+clover, and beets from carrots; if, agriculturally speaking, you don&#8217;t
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page71" name="page71"></a>71</span>&#8216;know beans;&#8217; he will annihilate you with his rural wisdom. For his
+whole existence is in the soil. He worships things under the earth.
+Dust he is, and to dust he shall return; (the sooner the better!) He
+prattles of potatoes, talks of turnips, harangues about horse-radish, knows
+no composition except compost. Speak to him of manners, and he will
+answer of manures. Like the Egyptians, he worships a bull; and has
+all the fondness of Pythagoras for beans. His only literature is Liebig&#8217;s
+Animal Chemistry; his lighter reading, the Cultivator and the
+New-England Farmer.</p>
+<p>Such an one was whilom a citizen with protruding abdomen and white
+cravat, who having realized a something in business, exchanges the
+counter for the country; buys his acre or two, erects his manor-house,
+with a grass-plat in front and a tree or two behind; and with a
+little straw hat on his head, a linen coat on his back, and a hoe in his
+hand, saunters around his limited possessions, as leisurely and as frequently
+as an old horse in a mill, perfectly content with his place, his
+plans, and himself.</p>
+<p>Call not upon him unless with double-soled boots and strapless trowsers;
+and choose a cool day for the visit, if it must be made; for not
+over &#8216;hill and dale,&#8217; but over rock and gully you must march; through
+ploughed land and through weeds, through bowers of grape-vines and
+<i>bosquets</i> of Lima beans; scratched by the thorns of the gooseberry
+and brushed by the long dew-covered leaves of the Indian corn. Numberless
+shrubs from a foot to eighteen inches in height he will point out to
+you, and name them with long names: &#8216;This is the Prota Goras,&#8217; &#8216;and
+that the Demo Creitus;&#8217; shrubs which, if you had encountered them
+when alone, you might have eradicated as weeds, in a moment of generous
+activity. And when muddy, breathless and dripping, you reach
+the highest point of his possessions, he will wave his hand majestically
+over some twenty feet of grass, and pointing to three trees and a white
+fence in the <em>distance</em>, talk of scenery!</p>
+<p>Nevertheless, convinced as we are that the taste for country-places
+is on the increase, we think it advisable to suggest a few hints for the
+instruction of the aspirants after rural felicity. Saratoga and the like
+are no longer indispensable places of resort, but it <em>is</em> indispensable to be
+out of town for three months of the year, if you would not be out of
+fashion during the remaining nine. Select then a bare and stony spot,
+for as your object is employment, the more improvements you can make
+the better you will be pleased, as you take it for granted of course that
+improvements cost almost nothing. On the highest part of this ground
+you will build your house: an airy situation is invaluable in warm
+weather; and then a view is so desirable. In the choice of a style of
+architecture some difficulty arises. You may either have a clap-board
+Parthenon, with Corinthian columns in front and Doric columns in the
+rear, painted white, to flash back the rays of the sun, or which is perhaps
+more fashionable, a Gothic cottage, with steep roof, rustic pillars,
+fantastic barge-boards, and numerous pinnacles painted brown, with oak-stained
+doors. This style looks well in the situation we have described;
+the absence of trees bringing out more fully the beauties of the architecture.
+It is attended with one or two inconveniences; scarcely however,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page72" name="page72"></a>72</span>worth mentioning: Gothic windows always leak, and the sloping
+roof makes the second story a little <em>ovenish</em> in temperature, and <em>garrety</em>
+in smell. Whichever of the two styles you adopt, you must not fail to
+refer your plans to some bustling little architect, who will be sure to
+write articles about himself in one of the weeklies, and will probably
+give a drawing of your house, and call you the &#8216;intelligent, gentlemanly,
+and high-minded proprietor.&#8217; After you have removed the stones,
+manured the ground, and planted grass, you will have a lawn; and after
+you have dug deep holes and set out tall thin consumptive trees, you
+have a wood. Secure the whole with white fences; throw rustic bridges
+over the <em>impassable</em> streams; sprinkle red dahlias and tiger-lilies here
+and there; buy a bull-dog to set on any small child who may be reckless
+enough to trespass; and lo! you have a country-seat as well as a
+town-house, and can invite your city friends to fill your one spare room
+in regular rotation.</p>
+<p>In the important matter of a name, you must decide for yourself;
+but surely with Walter Scott and Lord Byron and the innumerable
+<em>What-d&#8217;ye-call-&#8217;em</em> dales, <em>Thingumbob</em> brooks, and <em>So-and-so</em> woods, to
+choose from, you can have no difficulty in fixing upon a suitable one.</p>
+<p>But, says an amateur rustic, I have no fondness for floriculture, horticulture,
+or agriculture; what am I to do? Buy a horse, and take a
+gallop of some twenty miles or so, and if the horse does not shy you off,
+or bolt you off, or kick you off, and you do not fall off, or he does not fall
+under you, you will probably arrive at home safe; but as you walk from
+the stable to the house, you will quote from George Colman&#8217;s parody of
+the Lady of the Lake:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Hunter rest, for thou must own</p>
+<p><em>Leather lost</em> and empty belly,&#8217; etc.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>Have you a fondness for fire-arms? Then procure a gun and dog,
+and sally forth before day-light. Walk five miles through swamp and
+thicket without starting a bird. Sky cloudless; heat intense. Suddenly
+dog&#8217;s tail begins to beat half-seconds; up whirrs a bird, who is out of
+sight in a moment; so is the dog, who indulges in an animated chase.
+You shout yourself hoarse; at length succeed in catching dog, and try to
+thresh him with decayed sticks. A little while after, dog comes to a
+point again. This time he stands beautifully. You walk slowly up,
+trembling with excitement, both barrels cocked. Why don&#8217;t the bird
+get up? You glance inquiringly around, and at length discern a
+wood-turtle fast asleep near the stump of a tree. Then, if an irascible
+man, you curse. So passes the day. Now and then a bird springs; off
+fly both of your barrels, aimed at vacancy, and hurling showers of
+No. 8 into space; and you arrive at home late in the afternoon, sore-footed
+from much travel and stiffness of boots, and alas! without a feather
+except a small quail which your dog caught in his mouth.</p>
+<p>No more shooting? Try fishing then. Sit all day on a rock watching
+your float, or cork, or <i>dobber</i>, as the Dutch boys call it, dance merrily
+over the waves, occasionally disappearing under the surface, when
+the hook catches a weed. Does not even this suit you? Then, dear
+friend, buy a boat of from four to six tons burthen, properly rigged and
+ballasted; also buy a red shirt, a small low-crowned straw hat, some
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page73" name="page73"></a>73</span>tar to smear over your hands, and learn the first stanza of &#8216;The sea! the
+sea!&#8217; to make every thing seem more nautical and ship-shape. Hoist
+jib and mainsail, and venture out. After you have drifted a mile or
+two, it will fall a dead calm, and the boat (Gazelle? Wave? Gull?)
+will float two or three hours, the sun flashing back from the glassy surface
+of the water, burning your face to the color of bricks, and almost
+frying the eyes out of your head. Then is the time to sing &#8216;The sea! the
+sea!&#8217; and to take some Monongahela to still the qualmishness you begin to
+experience. At length the wind rises, and your boat, after many <i>yawings</i>,
+dashes away before it. Suddenly, without any voluntary or visible
+agency on your part, the main-boom sweeps from one side to the other,
+carrying your hat overboard in its passage, and dipping the gunwale deep
+under water. Agitated by this significant gesture, you steer straight
+for the wharf. In attempting to round-to, the bowsprit comes in contact
+with the piles and renounces its allegiance to the bow. The boat drifts
+away from the landing, and finally deposits you high and dry on the
+beach.</p>
+<p>What! Disgusted with this, too? Then take our advice, and like
+a reasonable man, stay in town.</p>
+</div><!--The Country-->
+<div class="article">
+<h2 class="title">TO AN EVENING CLOUD.</h2>
+<h3 class="byline">BY A YOUNG LADY.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Thou</span> beautiful cloud, a glorious hue is thine!</p>
+<p>I cannot think, as thy bright dyes appear</p>
+<p>To my enraptured gaze, that thou wert born</p>
+<p>Of Evening&#8217;s exhalations: more sublime,</p>
+<p>Light-giver! is thy birth-place, than of earth.</p>
+<p>Wert thou not formed to herald in the day,</p>
+<p>And clothe a world in thy unborrowed light?</p>
+<p>Or art thou but a harbinger of rains</p>
+<p>To budding May?&#8212;or in thy subtle screen</p>
+<p>Nursest the lightnings that affright the world?</p>
+<p>Or wert thou born of th&#8217; thin aërial mist</p>
+<p>That shades the sea, or shrouds the mountain&#8217;s brow?</p>
+<p>Whate&#8217;er thou art, I gaze on thee with joy.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Spread thy wings o&#8217;er the empyrean, and away</p>
+<p>Fleetly athwart the untravelled wilds of space,</p>
+<p>To where the Sun-light sheds his earliest beams,</p>
+<p>And blaze the stars, that vision vainly scans</p>
+<p>In distant regions of the universe!</p>
+<p>Tell me, Air-wanderer! in what burning zone</p>
+<p>Thou wilt appear, when from the azure vault</p>
+<p>Of our high heaven thy majesty shall fade;</p>
+<p>Tell me, winged Vapor! where hath been thy home</p>
+<p>Through the unchangeable serene of noon?</p>
+<p>Whate&#8217;er thy garniture, where&#8217;er thy course,</p>
+<p>Would I could follow thee in thy far flight,</p>
+<p>When the south wind of eve is low and soft,</p>
+<p>And my thought rises to the mighty source</p>
+<p>Of all sublimity! O fleeting cloud,</p>
+<p>Would I were with thee in the solemn night!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">B.</span></p>
+</div><!--To an Evening Cloud-->
+<div class="department">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page74" name="page74"></a>74</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">LITERARY NOTICES.</h2>
+<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">History of the Conquest of Mexico</span>, with a Preliminary View of the Ancient Mexican Civilization,
+and the Life of the Conqueror, <span class="special_name">Hernando Cortes</span>. By <span class="special_name">William H. Prescott</span>. In three
+volumes. New-York: <span class="special_name">Harper and Brothers</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="first_word">We</span> have awaited the appearance of these very elegant volumes with deep and anxious
+interest. The ability, industry and taste which the author displayed in his &#8216;History of
+Ferdinand and Isabella,&#8217; which won for him a noble reputation in the most cultivated states
+of Europe, still more endeared his name to his own countrymen, and led them to look, with
+the highest hope and the most pleasant anticipations, to the future efforts of his elegant and
+fascinating pen. We have for some time known that he was assiduously engaged in collecting
+materials, and preparing from them a history of the famous Conquest of Mexico;
+an event which, although of a very splendid and romantic character, was still but
+vaguely known, even in accomplished and well-informed literary circles. The facts relating
+to it were nowhere recorded in an authentic and connected form; for it has not been
+until within the last fifty years that the attention of historians and general scholars has
+been turned in this direction. The labors of Spanish antiquarians since that time, conducted
+as they have been with great skill and industry, and under the supervision and encouragement
+of the government itself, have been abundantly rewarded; and a vast number of original
+documents have been accumulated in the public and private libraries, which shed floods
+of light upon all historical events connected with the conquests of Spanish armies, or the
+discoveries of Spanish fleets, and have thus placed within the reach of writers at the present
+day materials for lack of which even the able histories of <span class="special_name">Robertson</span> and his contemporaries
+became meagre and unattractive. The historians of our era are making the best
+possible use of these copious and invaluable collections. The first result of their efforts was
+<span class="special_name">Washington Irving&#8217;s</span> magnificent &#8216;Life of <span class="special_name">Columbus</span>,&#8217; one of the most polished and
+perfect works of its class in the English language, and which has done as much for American
+literature abroad as it has for its eminent author at home. Then followed <span class="special_name">Prescott&#8217;s</span>
+&#8216;Ferdinand and Isabella,&#8217; pronounced by the best critics on both sides the Atlantic to be
+one of the most interesting and valuable histories ever published: and here we have, in his
+&#8216;History of the Conquest of Mexico,&#8217; drawn from the same rich source, a work eminently
+worthy to succeed its brilliant and most &#8216;illustrious predecessors.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Within the limits which restrain us, we can of course do nothing more than intimate very
+vaguely the general character and scope of this great work; nor are we sure that even this
+is not quite a useless labor, as it must find its way at once into the library of every literary
+gentleman throughout the country, and be read with the greatest avidity by men of every
+class. One of the most valuable portions of the history is the extended view which Mr.
+<span class="special_name">Prescott</span> has presented, at the opening of the work, of the character and civilization of the
+ancient inhabitants of Mexico. The Spaniards conquered no tribe of untutored savages,
+roaming, in the wild lawlessness of the aborigines of our section of the western continent,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page75" name="page75"></a>75</span>over the sunny plains and smiling fields of Anahuac: they found a people there who,
+centuries before the discovery of the western world by Columbus, possessed the arts of
+civilization, and had reached a point of intellectual and moral culture in many respects surpassing
+that of the most renowned nations of the other world. We are surprised to find the
+high degree of refinement which they had reached. The sciences, especially of mathematics
+and astronomy, were understood to a degree of nicety scarcely attained by the Romans
+in their palmiest days. Their political organization was of a wonderfully perfect character;
+and their laws, and especially the organization of the judiciary, the department by
+which they were to be interpreted and administered, were stamped by a clear insight into
+the nature of moral obligation, and the mutual duties and rights of the members of society,
+which strike us with the utmost astonishment. Their mythology, with the single exception
+of the sanction it gives to human sacrifices, indicates a much nearer approach to a
+knowledge of the true God than the popular faith of the Greeks or Romans; and sentiments
+are recorded as having been uttered by a prince of the Tezcucan tribe, guided solely by
+the light of his own indwelling reason, which were worthy of Plato or of any sage that has
+ever lived, unenlightened by the hopes of revelation on which Christians build their faith.
+The history of such a people, dwelling centuries ago upon our own continent, shrouded as
+it has heretofore been in darkness and vague uncertainty, under the lucid and brilliant pen
+of Mr. <span class="special_name">Prescott</span> becomes more attractive than any offspring of the fancy or imaginative
+fiction could possibly be. This preliminary sketch occupies nearly half of the first volume;
+and we have never read any similar effort of the same extent with equal gratification.</p>
+
+<p>We can of course give no outline of the main portion of the work, the history of the
+train of events by which the whole Mexican empire fell into the hands of the conquering
+Spaniard. It is one of the most romantic narratives which ever bore the seal of truth. Its
+prominent actors are men of eminent genius, who performed exploits worthy the greatest captains
+of Europe or Asia; and the history of their lives abounds with interest and instruction.
+Mr. <span class="special_name">Prescott</span> has a most happy historical style, glowing with all the warmth and shining
+with a far more substantial brilliancy than that of <span class="special_name">Bancroft</span>; and blending the strict truth
+of accurate narrative with the free flow of a fine imagination, all under the control of an
+exquisite taste, with more success than that of any other American writer, <span class="special_name">Irving</span> perhaps
+alone excepted. The authorities upon which he relies for his facts are uniformly
+given in notes, and the fullest information is presented in the same form, on all points which
+concern the accuracy and completeness of the work. We read the following passage in our
+author&#8217;s preface with profound regret: &#8216;For one thing, I may reasonably ask the reader&#8217;s indulgence.
+Owing to the state of my eyes, I have been obliged to use a writing-case made for
+the blind, which does not permit the writer to see his own manuscript; nor have I ever corrected,
+or even read, my own original draft.&#8217; Mr. <span class="special_name">Prescott</span> may well consider this as an
+ample excuse for any errors of typography; of which, by the way, we have not discovered
+even one. We were already aware, on the best authority, that <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span> had
+prepared to take up the ground so ably occupied by our author; a fact to which Mr. Prescott
+alludes in the following graceful terms:</p>
+
+<div class="quotation">
+<p>&#8216;It was not till I had become master of my rich collection of materials, that I was acquainted with
+this circumstance; and had he persevered in his design, I should unhesitatingly have abandoned my
+own, if not from courtesy, at least from policy; for though armed with the weapons of Achilles, this
+could give me no hope of success in a competition with Achilles himself. But no sooner was that distinguished
+writer informed of the preparations I had made, than with the gentlemanly spirit which will
+surprise no one who has the pleasure of his acquaintance, he instantly announced to me his intention of
+leaving the subject open to me. While I do but justice to Mr. <span class="special_name">Irving</span> by this statement, I feel the
+prejudice it does to myself in the unavailing regret I am exciting in the bosom of the reader.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We cannot take leave of this splendid book without making mention of the truly elegant
+style in which it has been issued by its liberal publishers. It yields in no respect to the
+finest issue of the Boston, and we had almost added, of the London press. The three volumes
+are large octavo, of about five hundred pages each, containing elegant portraits and
+illustrative maps; and yet the whole is sold for six dollars!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page76" name="page76"></a>76</span></p>
+
+<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">The Æneid of Virgil, with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory</span>; a Metrical Clavis
+and an Historical, Geographical and Mythological Index. By <span class="special_name">Charles Anthon</span>, LL. D. New-York:
+<span class="special_name">Harper and Brothers</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="first_word">The</span> cause of sound classical education in America is more deeply indebted to Professor
+<span class="special_name">Anthon</span> than to any other scholar in the country; and the debt of gratitude already incurred
+is almost daily increased by the unwearied efforts of this distinguished linguist.
+Beside the voluminous and unequalled Dictionaries which he has compiled and published,
+he has in course of preparation a series of the most popular Latin authors, in which his
+principal aim is to adapt them to the use of scholars in our academies and higher schools.
+Another volume of this series, containing the Æneid, has just been issued. It is usually
+among the earliest Latin works placed in the pupil&#8217;s hands, and yet there are few which
+require a more intimate and extended acquaintance with Roman history, domestic habits,
+mythology, geography, and indeed with every thing relating to the Romans as a nation and
+society, in order to a perfect understanding of its character, and a genuine relish of its beauties,
+than this. We doubt the policy, or propriety indeed, of placing in the hands of those
+who are learning the elements of a foreign <em>language</em>, poems of an elaborate and elevated
+character for text-books. No one, for the purpose of learning English, would take up <span class="special_name">Milton&#8217;s</span>
+Paradise Lost before the Vicar of Wakefield or <span class="special_name">Bunyan&#8217;s</span> Pilgrim&#8217;s Progress; for aside
+from the fact that he would not thus be introduced to the simple dialect of ordinary life, its
+classical and doctrinal allusions, its technical terms, and the profound knowledge of men, of
+books, and of nature which it embraces, would render it almost a sealed volume to any but
+those who have already become cultivated and accomplished scholars. And although the
+case is materially different in learning the ancient languages, since the object is not to speak
+or write them, but to become familiar with the great works which are written in them, it would
+be unwise if not useless to teach a pupil to read <span class="special_name">Virgil</span> without at the same time providing
+him with the means of thoroughly understanding and appreciating his poetry. For these he
+is usually dependent upon the verbal expositions of his teacher, who, even if he chance to
+be well qualified for the task, seldom has sufficient time for its proper discharge.</p>
+
+<p>Many attempts have been made to supply this want, and some of them have been attended
+with very fair, though not full, success. <span class="special_name">Cooper&#8217;s</span> edition has had the most copious notes,
+but they are not always accurate, and are often upon passages of comparatively little difficulty.
+<span class="special_name">Gould&#8217;s</span> notes are better, but they are much more sparingly introduced, and do not
+indeed elucidate the really intricate points. The historical and mythological references in
+both these editions are quite scanty; and they must both in our judgment speedily give place
+to this of Dr. <span class="special_name">Anthon</span>. The critical and explanatory notes to this are all that could be
+desired. They occupy more than six hundred pages, or quite two-thirds of the book, and
+relate to every point of interest or of doubt in the whole Æneid. They are full, accurate,
+and perfectly satisfactory. The author tells us in the preface that they comprise the results
+of all the study and research of modern European scholars, and embrace every thing which
+has been brought to light up to the present time. They are very copiously and clearly
+illustrated by neat and perspicuous engravings, which frequently do more than pages of
+description to give a distinct impression to the scholar&#8217;s mind. The construction of Roman
+ships, the mode of a naval battle, the style of conducting a siege, the form of chaplets, of
+temples, of household utensils, of coins, ornaments, and in fine, the exact structure and appearance
+of every thing pertaining to Roman history or Roman life, are thus rendered more
+familiar to the eye than they ever could be to the ear of the student. The metrical clavis
+scans all the difficult lines contained in the book, and the general index clearly and briefly
+elucidates all the references which the poem contains to men, incidents, and localities.
+With these recommendations, aided by the typographical clearness and beauty which the
+publishers have given to it, this edition of the Æneid must be heartily welcomed by scholars
+and students (all rivalry to the contrary) throughout the United States.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page77" name="page77"></a>77</span></p>
+
+<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Mexico: as it Was and as it Is</span>. By <span class="special_name">Brantz Mayer</span>, Late Secretary of Legation to Mexico. In
+one volume, octavo, pp. 426. &#8216;New World&#8217; press: J. <span class="special_name">Winchester</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="first_word">We</span> looked through a large portion of this work while all its sheets were not yet through
+the press, and were enabled with some confidence to predict that it would create no small
+sensation in the literary world. Mr. <span class="special_name">Mayer</span> has a free, unpretending style, which renders
+all that he writes eminently <em>readable</em>; a merit in which many far more practised writers
+are as signally deficient. The programme furnished in the announcement of the work has
+been well filled up. Many of the ruins and antiquities here described have never before
+been visited or mentioned by any traveller. A detailed account is furnished of the present
+social and political condition of Mexico; an elaborate description is given of the antiquities
+to be found in the museum of the capital, and of the ancient remains strewn from
+California to Odjaca. A record is presented of the author&#8217;s journeys to Tezcoco, and
+through the <i>tierra-caliente</i>; and a full account of the agriculture, manufactures, commerce,
+resources, mines, coinage, and general statistics of Mexico is given. There is beside a
+complete view of the past and present <em>history</em> of the country, with vivid pictures of the domestic
+manners and customs of the people. The whole is illustrated by numerous drawings
+from the pencil of Mr. <span class="special_name">Mayer</span>, which have been engraved on wood by <span class="special_name">Butler</span>, in that
+excellent artist&#8217;s best style. We scarcely remember to have met with a work so profusely
+embellished; and the literary and pictorial artist being one and the same person, the reader
+is helped to a far more life-like view of the scenes and things described and depicted than
+he could have obtained under circumstances less favorable to the strict fidelity of pen and
+pencil. The publisher has evinced great liberality in the pictorial department of the volume,
+having expended upward of twelve hundred dollars on the illustrations alone. The volume
+is printed upon a fine and white (though somewhat too thin) paper, with a large clear type.
+The work can scarcely fail to attain, what indeed it well deserves, a wide diffusion.</p>
+
+<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Scenes and Scenery in the Sandwich Islands, and a Trip through Central America</span>:
+being Observations from my Note-book, during the years 1837, to 1842. By <span class="special_name">James J. Jarves</span>, Member
+of the Oriental Society, etc. In one vol. pp. 341. Boston: <span class="special_name">Jas. Munroe and Company</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="first_word">Those</span> of our readers who may have seen a previous work of Mr. <span class="special_name">Jarves</span>, on the history
+of the Sandwich Islands, which was noticed in this Magazine, will perhaps remember the
+following passage in the preface: &#8216;It was designed to interweave with the civil and political
+account of the nation, a series of sketches, illustrative of their present life and condition,
+and other interesting points, which would have enlivened a bare narrative of facts; also to
+have pictured the wondrous natural phenomena of that prolific portion of the Pacific, the
+great volcanic eruption of 1840; and a full account of the mightiest of craters, the gigantic
+<i>Lua Pele</i>, of Kilanea, in Hawaii. But it would have swelled the volume to an unwieldy
+size. At an early period will be presented an additional volume, which, without being connected
+with the present, will give in detail all that is necessary to form a correct view of
+the Hawaiian Islands, their condition, prospects, the every-day concerns of the people, and
+missionary life as it now exists; the two to form a succinct whole, illustrating each other.&#8217;
+The volume before us has been written in fulfilment of the foregoing pledge. In it the writer
+has attempted to delineate that which came within his immediate observation, during
+a residence of four years on the Group. As a description of the familiar life of a people,
+in a novel and interesting position, one which may with propriety be termed a state of transition
+from barbarism to civilization, it will attract the attention, and interest the sympathies
+of readers of all classes. A portion of the sketches have been previously published in journals,
+and had some circulation both at home and abroad. The volume is executed by the
+eminent Boston printer, <span class="special_name">Dickinson</span>, and is illustrated with fine maps and plates.</p>
+
+</div><!--Literary Notices-->
+<div class="department" id="editors_table">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page78" name="page78"></a>78</span></p>
+<h2 class="title">EDITOR&#8217;S TABLE.</h2>
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p><span class="ed_table_title">The New Year.</span>&#8212;We are standing once more together, reader, at that fairy vestibule
+which opens rich with hope and bright to expectation upon another twelve-month; a coming
+lapse of time that like a swell of the ocean tossing with its fellows, heaves onward to
+the land of Death and Silence. At such a time, although it seem not meet, it may be, to
+indulge in sad thoughts and pensive recollections, who can refrain from giving a backward
+glance to years that have passed like a weaver&#8217;s shuttle, and woven our &#8216;checkered web of
+life?&#8217; Shall we not for one moment remember too, even at this joyous season, the loved
+and lost who have gone before us, to solve the great mystery of life, and the momentous
+secrets of death and the grave? Shall we not remember that <em>we</em> too are passing away; and
+in thoughtful mood, pause to ask with the poet:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">Another</span> year! another year!</p>
+<p>Oh! who shall see another year?</p>
+<p>Shalt thou, old man, of hoary head,</p>
+<p>Of eye-sight dim, and feeble tread?</p>
+<p>Expect it not! Time, pain, and grief</p>
+<p>Have made thee like an autumn leaf;</p>
+<p>Ready, by blast or self-decay,</p>
+<p>From its slight hold to drop away;</p>
+<p>And some sad morn may gild thy bier,</p>
+<p>Long, long before another year!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Another year! another year!</p>
+<p>Oh! who shall see another year?</p>
+<p>Shall you, ye young? or you, ye fair?</p>
+<p>Ah! the presumptuous thought forbear!</p>
+<p>Beside this church-yard&#8217;s peaceful bounds,</p>
+<p>Pause ye, and ponder o&#8217;er the mounds:</p>
+<p>Here beauty sleeps; that verdant length</p>
+<p>Of grave contains what once was strength;</p>
+<p>The child, the boy, the man are here&#8212;</p>
+<p>Ye may not see another year!&#8217;</p></div>
+</div>
+<p>While however we give to emotions like these their appropriate vent, we are not called
+upon to forget that there is much that is inspiring and delightful in the commencement of
+the year. The time-honored custom of our metropolis has made it a point of peculiar radiance;
+a halcyon period, when heart&#8217;s-ease would seem to be the general feeling, and
+smiles the social insignia. Then the visit is exchanged between friends whom perhaps
+the departed year had somewhat alienated; old associations are revived, and cordialities
+that had well nigh been forgotten are strengthened and renewed. As the lip is wetted with
+friendly wine, the bosom expands in the generous warmth of honest enjoyment; the cold
+formalities of factitious station give place to undisguised welcome and open-handed cheer.
+The rich and the poor meet together, and the spirit of pleasure is with all. As the parties
+go their rounds, and familiar forms and faces appear to greeting eyes, the <em>necessity</em> of friendship
+and the desolation of its absence come home to the mind. It is felt that comfort
+is lost when allied to selfishness, and that it is good to be respected or beloved. And as
+those meet between whom the year has passed in sullen estrangement; upon whose anger
+many an evening sun has descended; a relenting spirit obeys the mingled voices of Memory
+and Friendship: the kind resolve is made and followed; so that instead of the thorn to goad
+and wound, there springs up in the pathway of the Reconciled the olive or the myrtle. How
+sweet is the sight of human goodness, struggling to surmount the petty passions which discolor
+its beauty, and bending to the benign suggestions of that pure and gentle principle,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page79" name="page79"></a>79</span><em>peace with man</em>! Doubtless there are many severe strivings with natural pride, before
+these ends can be reached; but the new year awakens such throngs of conciliatory sentiments,
+that it is impossible to resist them. The call is made; the oversight or neglect explained;
+the breach is closed; and friendship is paramount! Months of reverses and cares
+and disappointments are lost in that initial day, whose span is golden from sun to sun; a
+lapse to be remembered with quiet satisfaction in trials to come. Indeed, a moment&#8217;s reflection
+will assure any contemplative mind that resentment is the most pitiful passion that
+can agitate the human breast. True, there is such a thing as &#8216;<em>spirit</em>,&#8217; but how often is it ill-directed!
+How often magnified by little causes into an importance wholly incommensurate
+with the object desired! It is the province of new-year visits to crush these poisonous
+weeds of our path, to quench their noxious tendrils, and to substitute in their stead the balm
+of friendship and good-will. For such an object the morning of the year is most auspicious.
+The grand festival of our <span class="special_name">Saviour&#8217;s</span> nativity has but lately ended, and a preservation of the
+era of good feeling is enjoined both by Precept and Hope. Who can resist such appeals
+to that kindness which increases the happiness of its possessor? With these reiterated
+words of counsel and of affection, let us take present leave of our readers, by wishing them
+in hackneyed phrase, but with unhackneyed spirit, a <span class="special_name">Happy
+New-Year</span>!</p>
+</div><!--The New Year-->
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p><span class="ed_table_title">The Rights of Women.</span>&#8212;We wish it were possible to transfer to this printed page
+the beautiful chirography of the annexed communication, which proceeds from the pen of
+a lady who, with a few others of her gentle sex, sat out the reading of the lecture upon the
+&#8216;<em>Rights of Women</em>,&#8217; by Mr. <span class="special_name">John Neal</span>, at the Broadway Tabernacle last winter, and
+which was so heartily laughed at by the press and the town for a day or two after. It is
+gratifying to remark that <em>women</em> themselves have been the prominent satirists of the characteristic
+absurdities put forth on the occasion alluded to. But to our fair correspondent:
+&#8216;<span class="special_name">Appear</span>, bright Spirits of the ancient Nine! (for you were women, and can well appreciate
+my appeal) arrayed in all the panoply of your charms! Thou, <span class="special_name">Minerva</span>! aid me with
+thy wisdom! Ye, most lovely <span class="special_name">Graces</span>! attend me with the power of honey-like persuasiveness!
+And thou, <span class="special_name">John Neal</span>! arrayed in the drapery of the softer sex, gracefully to
+maintain the lofty eminence whereon thou standest, assist me with the glorious power of
+thy overwhelming eloquence, while I assert the high prerogative of Woman! Yet when I
+dwell on the brilliant efforts accomplished by thy mighty genius in our behalf, the pen falls
+powerless from my despairing hand, and I can merely point to thee as the potent champion
+of our down-trodden rights! Instead of dwelling in dull obscurity, victims to the caprice of
+men; mending their thread-bare clothing and scolding servants&#8212;base, unwomanly pursuits!&#8212;instead
+of listening in silence to the storms of political debate; instead of remaining
+within the shadow of our own roofs, and gathering around the domestic hearth the
+thornless roses of existence; rendering home a haven of rest to the weary and care-worn;
+instead of slumbering idly, in the security of our mansions, when the torrent of war
+rolls over the land; instead of girding then our brothers for the stormy fight, bidding them
+<span class="special_name">God</span>-speed; instead of ignobly bending before the tyrannical power of Man, thou, O! astute
+<span class="special_name">Neal</span>! wouldst have us pluck the laurel-wreath from our kinsman&#8217;s brow, and bind it on
+our own. Thou wouldst have us rise in all the dignity of offended &#8216;equality,&#8217; and boldly
+assert the holy right of &#8216;<em>free suffrage to all</em>!&#8217; Why, forsooth, should <em>we</em> rather be confined to
+the narrow circle of home than our friends of the other sex? Are we not as capable of
+sounding the loud alarm of war, of mingling in the strife and tumult of the battle-hour, as
+the ladies of antique Amazonia, or the warrior-<em>men</em> of our own day? Have we not intellect
+enough to cope with the <span class="special_name">Websters</span>, the <span class="special_name">Clays</span>, and the <span class="special_name">Wrights</span>, in the halls of Congress?
+Is not our dignity sufficient to maintain, with honor to our country and ourselves,
+the various offices of the government? Why may not our superior talents elevate us to
+the lofty station of the presidential chair?&#8212;to become Ambassadresses, Generalesses,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page80" name="page80"></a>80</span>Stateswomen? Surely our intellect is as lofty, as noble, and as clear as that in which proud
+man exults. Arise then, Women of America! Study immediately the tactics of military
+discipline; proceed to the green savannahs of Florida; wrest their authority from those
+who now possess it, and deck your own brows of loveliness with the wreaths of conquest
+and of glory. March to the halls of legislation; demand from statesmen there assembled
+the concession of &#8216;woman&#8217;s rights,&#8217; and desert them not till that &#8216;vantage ground&#8217;
+is well secured. Then, ladies, will you be enabled to cast aside with disdain the bonds
+of domestic confinement, which insure merely your peace and happiness; to mingle your
+shrill cries with the tumult of contending armies, confounding confusion itself with your
+loud clamors! You may then unite your voices with the shouts of opposing factions at the
+momentous periods of election, huzzaing for your candidates, and gathering all your influence
+to win success for them. So shall you nobly fulfil the high destiny allotted you, instead
+of longer enduring the degrading cares attendant on the happiness of your fathers&#8217;
+and your husbands&#8217; homes. So shall you take by storm the hearts of men as well as the
+citadels of your enemies; forcing them to admire those female &#8216;braves&#8217; who so kindly relieve
+them of the weighty burden of their cares.&#8217; Capital! This mock-heroic is just the
+vein for a theme so ridiculous as the insane crudities here touched upon. By the by; a private
+note advises us that &#8216;there have been recent symptoms of chuckling exhibited by the
+&#8216;champion of women,&#8217; on the supposition, real or assumed, that the attention of the legislatures
+of several States had been diverted toward &#8216;woman&#8217;s rights&#8217; in the matter of personal
+property between man and wife, by reason of the lecture aforesaid!&#8217; It is unnecessary
+perhaps to add, in justice to the public sense, that the action of three or four States
+upon this subject had a far different origin, as their legislative records will abundantly
+show.</p>
+</div><!--The Rights of Women-->
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p><span class="ed_table_title">Ole Bull</span>.&#8212;We confess ourselves among the uninitiated in the mysteries of music.
+We are quite aware that it is not a little dangerous for one who would not lose <em>caste</em> in society
+to assert that he does not greatly admire that ill-assorted compound of &#8216;<em>strains</em>&#8217; which
+is usually designated by the hackneyed phrases of &#8216;brilliant execution&#8217; and &#8216;difficult passages;&#8217;
+passages which Dr. <span class="special_name">Johnson</span> wished were &#8216;not only <em>difficult</em> but <em>impossible</em>:&#8217; we
+cannot force an admiration nor affect an enthusiasm which we do not feel. Indeed, we
+have always had great sympathy for the amateur of fashion who aspired to great refinement
+of taste, to exhibit which, in one branch of art, he gave on one occasion an entertainment
+of instrumental music. While the musicians were <em>all</em> at work, he seemed delighted with
+the performance; but when one instrument chanced to be engaged upon a solo, he inquired,
+in a towering passion, why the others were remaining idle? &#8216;It is a <em>pizzicato</em> for one instrument,&#8217;
+replied the operator. &#8216;I can&#8217;t help that,&#8217; replied the virtuoso; &#8216;let the trumpets
+<em>pizzicato</em> along with you; they&#8217;re <em>paid</em> to do it!&#8217; Now in regard to musical knowledge and
+taste, this hopeful amateur has many a counterpart in this day and generation, and in this
+same city of Gotham. In the case of <span class="special_name">Ole Bull</span>, however, there has been no call for
+<em>affected</em> admiration. He has <em>compelled</em> not only admiration but enthusiasm; not indeed by
+mere artistical &#8216;execution,&#8217; although in this he is acknowledged to be preëminent, but by
+the creations of <em>genius</em>, which &#8216;take the full heart captive.&#8217; Let the distant reader imagine
+an audience of three thousand persons awaiting in breathless expectance the entrance
+upon the Park-stage of this great Master. The curtain rises, and after the lapse of a moment,
+a tall manly person, with a frank, ingenuous expression of countenance, emerges
+with an embarrassed salutation from the wing, and with another somewhat less constrained,
+stands in front of the orchestra, the focus of every eye and glass in that brilliant assemblage.
+Pausing for a brief space, as if to collect himself, he raises his bow, and with a slight
+motion, beckons to each member of the orchestra in turn, who &#8216;start into sound&#8217; at his bidding
+as if touched by the wand of <span class="special_name">Ithuriel</span>. When the tide of harmony has reached its
+flood, and is gradually ebbing back to fainter sounds, the Master raises his instrument to
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page81" name="page81"></a>81</span>his shoulder and lays his ear upon it, as if listening for his key-note amidst the tones that
+are serpentining through his brain. When to the audience &#8216;nothing lives &#8217;twixt these and
+silence,&#8217; a strain which has at first a dying fall imperceptibly swells on the ear. It is <em>the</em>
+instrument, beyond all peradventure; and from that moment you are &#8216;all ear.&#8217; While you
+are wondering why you never knew before that there was such a <em>volume</em> of sound in a
+violin, a passage of infinite pathos arrests your <em>heart</em>, and you find your eyes moistening
+under its influence. It subsides into tremulous tones that retreat farther and farther from
+the ear, until they seem to come from a mile&#8217;s distance; anon, they begin to approach again,
+and swelling gradually upon the &#8216;aching sense,&#8217; almost overpower you with their fulness of
+melody. This transcendent effort of genius reminded us of the phantasmagora, or &#8216;magic
+lantern;&#8217; for what the lessening and enlarging figures of that instrument are to the <em>eye</em>, <span class="special_name">Ole
+Bull&#8217;s</span> magic sounds are to the <em>ear</em>. We had intended to allude in detail to several of the
+performances of this great Master; but we lack the requisite space. We can only instance
+the &#8216;Norwegian Rondo,&#8217; the &#8216;Themes from <span class="special_name">Bellini</span>,&#8217; and the &#8216;Carnival at Venice,&#8217; as
+eminently justifying the fervent enthusiasm which they excited. It was no unnatural
+combination of splendid sinuosities, of small notes split into hexagonals, and attenuated into
+tremors that were &#8216;no great <em>shakes</em>&#8217; after all, which entranced the audience; it was full,
+rich tones; it was melody, harmony, that won their loud and almost irrepressible applause.
+We have not yet had the pleasure to hear <span class="special_name">Vieux-Temps</span>, the distinguished violinist recently
+arrived among us. His numerous friends and countrymen in the metropolis rank him even
+above <span class="special_name">Ole Bull</span>. We are inclined, however, to trust the comparison made by an eminent
+brother-artist, who assisted at his first concert: &#8216;<span class="special_name">Vieux-Temps</span>,&#8217; said he, &#8216;is a very
+accomplished <em>artist</em>; but <span class="special_name">Ole Bull</span> is a magnificent <em>genius</em>.&#8217; We shall have something to
+say of <span class="special_name">Vieux-Temps</span>, <span class="special_name">Artot</span>, and Sig. <span class="special_name">Cassela</span>, in a subsequent number of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>,
+should time and occasion serve.</p>
+</div><!--Ole Bull-->
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p><span class="ed_table_title">A Second &#8216;Ralph Ringwood.&#8217;</span>&#8212;We have a western correspondent, a &#8216;man of mark&#8217;
+in his region, and far from unknown elsewhere, who has seen a good deal of the world, and
+whose entertaining epistles always remind us of the graphic &#8216;<em>Experiences of Ralph Ringwood</em>,&#8217;
+as recorded in these pages by <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>. Here is a fragment of youthful
+reminiscence, fresh from his mint, &#8216;which it is hoped may please;&#8217; and if it <em>does</em>, we will
+use our &#8216;selectest influence&#8217; to induce him to write out for us a series of papers containing
+his complete autobiography, which we have good reason to believe would overflow with
+romance and strange vicissitude: &#8216;I was raised,&#8217; he writes, &#8216;as we western folks term it,
+in a small village some fifteen miles from Boston, and when about sixteen years of age I paid
+a visit to the metropolis for the first time in my life. When I first arrived there I spent some
+hours in trying to hunt up an old play-mate who had been bound apprentice to a Boston
+mechanic some two years previous. I could hear nothing of him, however, and so gave
+up the search. But one day, while sauntering down the main-street, and wondering at all
+I saw, I suddenly encountered a strange sight. It was <em>a sheep</em>, dead and dressed, but moving
+along the side-walk in an upright position, and apparently without help! Puzzled at this
+phenomenon, I turned round as it passed me, in order to observe it more closely; when to
+my astonishment I discovered a boy behind it, who with the sheep on his back was shuffling
+along the walk, stern-foremost. I was still more astonished when I recognized in this lad
+my old and long-sought playmate. &#8216;<span class="special_name">Dick</span>, my boy!&#8217; said I, grasping his hand warmly.
+<span class="special_name">Dick</span> seemed a little embarrassed at first; but after a moment&#8217;s hesitation, he threw down
+his load spitefully, and seizing my hand returned my grasp as cordially as it had been given.
+&#8216;For <span class="special_name">God</span>&#8217;s sake, <span class="special_name">Dick</span>,&#8217; inquired I, &#8216;how long is it since you commenced walking backward?&#8217;
+&#8216;Not a great while,&#8217; replied he, with a grin. &#8216;To tell you the truth, <span class="special_name">Frank</span>, I saw
+you looking in the jeweller&#8217;s window there, and knew you at once; and as I didn&#8217;t care to
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page82" name="page82"></a>82</span>be seen by an old comrade with a sheep on my back, I was in hopes to escape your observation
+by walking in the manner in which you saw me.&#8217; &#8216;And that was the very thing which
+led me to discover you,&#8217; I replied; &#8216;you might have passed me in the ordinary way, nineteen
+times in every twenty, without being recognized.&#8217; &#8216;Well, it&#8217;s all one now, since you
+have found me out,&#8217; said <span class="special_name">Dick</span>. &#8216;But what, after all, are you going to do with that measly-looking
+animal?&#8217; I inquired. &#8216;Eat it,&#8217; replied he, with a comical twist of the nose; &#8216;I have
+to lug one home every day; we apprentices live on them altogether. I&#8217;m a sheep myself,
+almost; <em>b-a-a-h</em>!&#8217; and here he imitated the cry of that animal so naturally, that I had no
+doubt of the truth of his statement. After a few moments&#8217; conversation, chiefly about
+home, the clock struck ten, when <span class="special_name">Dick</span> suddenly resumed his load, and after giving me the
+directions to the &#8216;old man&#8217;s&#8217; house, and exacting a promise to call and see him in the evening,
+he started for home. At the appointed hour in the evening, I called to see him, as
+agreed upon, and found him waiting for me. But what a different-looking personage from
+the one I met in the morning! He was now very smartly dressed in a small black frock-coat,
+and drab gaiter-trowsers strapped tightly over a pair of nicely-polished boots. On his head
+a black velvet cap, from which two enormous tassels were swinging, was setting jauntily on
+one side, while in his hand he carried a little silver-headed cane, with which he occasionally
+rapped his legs. In my unsophisticated eyes he was a very paragon of gentility, and I
+couldn&#8217;t help contrasting him with my own countrified appearance. However, I had but
+a moment for reflection; for sallying into the street, with me at his heels, <span class="special_name">Dick</span> at once proposed
+going to the theatre. I agreed without hesitation, for the big play-bills had been
+staring me in the face all day, and on them were emblazoned in large capitals the names of
+<span class="special_name">Cooper</span> and <span class="special_name">Finn</span>, who were to play together that evening in one of <span class="special_name">Shakspeare&#8217;s</span> comedies.
+When we arrived at the play-house, <span class="special_name">Dick</span> took me aside, and pointing to the little
+window in the office, proposed that I should go and purchase the tickets; &#8216;because,&#8217; said
+he, &#8216;the box-keeper knows me.&#8217; I couldn&#8217;t exactly comprehend why the fact of his being
+known to the box-keeper should prevent his purchasing the tickets himself. However, I
+supposed it was all right, and so I crowded up to the little window, and after awaiting my
+turn, obtained two pit-tickets, for which I had to pay out of my own pocket, of course.
+Dick took them from me when I returned, and then again resuming the lead, he conducted
+me into the lobby of the play-house. Here he handed the tickets to the door-keeper, at
+the same time nodding his head toward me, in order to intimate to that gentleman that I
+was under his special patronage, and that the other admission was intended for me. Once
+seated in the centre of the pit, <span class="special_name">Dick</span> seemed to be in his glory. He ogled the ladies in the
+boxes, and whistled and shouted and stamped, and cried &#8216;Physic!&#8217; until I thought he would
+split his throat. But when at last the gloomy curtain rose and the stars of the evening
+stood glittering before us, he clapped and shouted so much louder and longer than all the
+rest, that the whole audience gazed at him with admiration. He would have gone on applauding,
+I verily believe, until the end of the play, had not a tall gentleman, with a red
+handkerchief round his throat, and carrying a long pole, rapped him over the head, and
+peremptorily shouted &#8216;Silence!&#8217; From that moment <span class="special_name">Dick</span> was as mute as a Quaker, until
+the end of the play; when rushing out and dragging me after him, he proposed that we
+should go and finish the evening at a celebrated coffee-house, kept by &#8216;a particular friend
+of his,&#8217; and where he had agreed to meet some half-dozen fellow-apprentices. Here we
+stayed until a very late hour, drinking and smoking, telling stories and singing songs. As
+it grew later, our companions one by one walked or reeled out of the bar-room, until we
+two were left the only tenants, save the landlord. The latter then commenced closing the
+house, and hinted pretty strongly that it was high time we were going. I turned to <span class="special_name">Dick</span>,
+who had been remarkably silent for some time, when to my utter dismay I discovered that
+he was perfectly insensible from drink. I looked up to the landlord for counsel. He was
+a short, <em>squab</em> man, with a bulbous excresence growing out from between his shoulders, that
+I suppose passed for a head, though it looked like a wen; a kind of expletive, to wear a
+hat on, or to fill up the hollow of a shabby wig. &#8216;What shall we <em>do</em> with him?&#8217; said I.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page83" name="page83"></a>83</span>&#8216;Hustle him out!&#8217; cried he; &#8216;hustle him out! he didn&#8217;t get his liquor here: I&#8217;ve no room
+for such company!&#8217; I then endeavored to put my companion upon his feet, but his legs
+bent under him, and his whole body seemed as limber and lifeless as a wet rag. &#8216;You
+can&#8217;t do any thing with him in <em>that</em> way,&#8217; continued the landlord; &#8216;if you want to get
+him home to-night, you must take him on your back and carry him there yourself. He&#8217;ll
+be bright enough in the morning.&#8217; I saw no other way of proceeding; and so, being strong
+and athletic myself, while <span class="special_name">Dick</span> was of slight proportions, I managed, with the assistance
+of the landlord, to get him upon my back, and then started for his master&#8217;s house. As my
+burthen was perfectly speechless, I had plenty of time for uninterrupted thought as I trudged
+along; and I couldn&#8217;t help contrasting the apprentice of the morning with the apprentice
+of the present moment. <em>Then</em>, though rather coarsely dressed, and smooched with the
+marks of labor, he blushed at being caught with a sheep on his back, though he had come
+honestly by it; but <em>now</em>, though bedecked in the habiliments of a gentleman, he was being
+carried home himself like a beast on the back of a companion. On reaching his master&#8217;s
+house I laid him down upon the door-sill, where he commenced breathing intensely through
+his nose, while I fumbled round for the handle of the bell, which I rang. The &#8216;old man&#8217;
+himself came to the door, and looking down at his apprentice, shook his head sorrowfully.
+Then turning to a black domestic, who with a candle in her hand stood grinning behind
+him, he said, &#8216;Here&#8217;s <span class="special_name">Dick</span> come home drunk again, Dinah; you must take him up stairs
+and get him to bed in the best way you can.&#8217; The old gentleman turned away with a tear
+in his eye, and I also departed, leaving <span class="special_name">Dick</span>, who had come to his senses a little, struggling
+in the arms of the brawny black, and vainly trying to kiss her polished cheek. Thus ended
+my first youthful adventure in a city.&#8217;</p>
+</div><!--A Second 'Ralph Ringwood'-->
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p><span class="ed_table_title">Gossip with Readers and Correspondents.</span>&#8212;We encounter in our personal correspondence
+not a few comments, pro and con, upon the papers on &#8216;<em>Mind and Instinct</em>,&#8217;
+which appeared in the last two numbers of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>. Our friend and correspondent,
+&#8216;<span class="special_name">Harry Franco</span>,&#8217; among others, in a gossiping epistle to the Editor, writes as
+follows:</p>
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<div class="quotation">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">I have</span> been considerably interested in your correspondent&#8217;s paper on mind and instinct; only I
+rather wonder at his laboring to prove a theory which few are inclined to question. But he does not
+after all, it appears to me, draw the right conclusions from his argument. All living beings have a
+mind, or reason, or what you will, which prompts them to do all that their animal functions are capable
+of performing. In this respect man is as much governed by instinct as a brute. My neighbor&#8217;s dog
+every night when I come home walks up to me, wags his tail, and looks in my face, and says in his
+way, &#8216;How are you?&#8217; His master gives me a nod, takes his pipe from his mouth, and says the same.
+But when a stranger comes to my door, neither the dog nor his master salutes him; but were he to fall
+into the brook, they would both run to pull him out. Are they not both influenced by exactly the same
+feelings? If I should ask my neighbor to endorse my note, he would look sulky, hem! and haw! and
+refuse; if I should attempt to take a bone from his dog, the brute would snarl and growl, and perhaps
+bite me. Do you see any marvellous difference between the two animals? A near neighbor of mine,
+about six months since, had a little boy of four years old, who had a spaniel of which he was very fond.
+One day during the absence of the father, the child was taken ill with the croup; the mother was
+alarmed, and it so happened that her servants were away, and she had no one to send for a physician.
+The poor woman was in great tribulation, for in spite of all her efforts the child grew worse. In
+about an hour after the child was taken ill, her father&#8217;s carriage stopped at the door, and her mother
+made her appearance. Her father&#8217;s house was about two miles distant. The grandmother said that
+Carlo, the sick child&#8217;s dog, &#8216;came running into the house, all bespattered with mud, and flew about
+and acted so strangely that she knew something must be the matter with little Billy, her grandson, and
+she came to see what it was.&#8217; Until then, the mother of the child had not noticed the absence of the
+dog from the room, for the boy was playing with him when he was taken sick. The child remained ill
+three or four days, and then died; and during the whole time the dog never left his bed-side; he watched
+by the corpse until it was buried, and then took possession of the little boy&#8217;s chair, which he would
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page84" name="page84"></a>84</span>allow no one to touch, not even the child&#8217;s mother. Every day he absented himself for three or four
+hours; and the father one day going to look at his child&#8217;s grave, found that the dog had almost scratched
+his way down to the coffin. He was after this kept within doors; but he refused to eat, and in a
+short time died in the chair of his little master. If I had time, I could tell you a story almost as touching,
+in relation to a pig, an animal that phrenologically speaking has generally been looked upon as
+somewhat deficient in the region of the sentiments.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div><!--Animals' Minds and Instincts-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p><span class="first_word">Now</span> that our attention has been awakened to the subject, we find in our casual reading
+the testimony in favor of &#8216;mind in animals&#8217; greatly to increase and multiply. <span class="special_name">Oleus
+Magnus</span>, Bishop of Norway, in a work written in Latin some two centuries ago, tells us of
+a fox that, in order to get rid of the fleas which infested his skin, was accustomed to swim out
+into a lake with a straw band held high and dry in his mouth. When the water-hating
+vermin had all escaped from his submerged body to the dry straw, down dived Reynard,
+leaving his tormentors &#8216;at sea,&#8217; and rising again beyond the scope of safe jumping. &#8216;Curious,
+isn&#8217;t it?&#8217; A correspondent at Rochester, &#8216;who experienced much satisfaction in the
+perusal of the article&#8217; above alluded to, was yet &#8216;a little dissatisfied with the closing portion
+of it.&#8217; The proposition of the writer to &#8216;abstain entirely from animal food,&#8217; on the
+score of humanity, he considers &#8216;especially ridiculous.&#8217; He has &#8216;the gravest authority for
+stating, that every drop of water that quenches our thirst or laves our bodies, contains innumerable
+insects, which are sacrificed to our necessities or comforts; each ingredient in
+the simplest vegetable fare conveys to inevitable destruction thousands of the most beautiful
+and harmless of created beings. From the first to the last gasp of our lives, we never
+inhale the air of heaven without butchering myriads of sentient and innocent creatures.
+Can we upbraid ourselves then for supporting our lives by the death of a few animals, many
+of whom are themselves carnivorous, when the infant who has lived for a single day has
+killed an infinitely greater number of human beings than the longest life would suffice to
+murder by design? Or, if we sacrifice either our lives or our comforts by scrupulously
+denying ourselves the use of animal food, can we derive much consolation from considering
+that we spare a few scores of beings, when we involuntarily, but knowingly, are
+every moment massacreing more than the longest life-time would suffice to enumerate?&#8217;
+<span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A reference</span> to the case of &#8216;<em>Rachael Baker, the American Somnambulist</em>,&#8217;
+in a late London Magazine, has recalled that remarkable phenomenon very forcibly
+to our mind. <span class="special_name">Rachael Baker</span> resided within four miles of &#8216;the house where we were
+born;&#8217; and the first exhibitions of her religious exercises during sleep took place alternately
+at the homestead and the residence of a relation in its near vicinity. We remember
+as it were but yesterday the solemnity which sat upon the faces of the assembled neighbors,
+as they awaited the signal-groan from an adjoining apartment, to which, at about
+seven <span class="small_all_caps">P.&nbsp;M.</span>, the Somnambulist usually retired for the night. When the door was opened
+the crowd pressed in. The sleeper, dressed in white muslin, lay straight and motionless in
+bed; her eyes closed, her face white and inflexible as marble; and her fingers with livid
+marks beneath the nails, clasped meekly upon her bosom. Flecks of foam were visible
+at the corners of her mouth, and her lips moved &#8216;as if they would address themselves to
+speech,&#8217; for some seconds before any audible sound came from them. At length, however,
+in a clear silvery voice she opened with prayer; a prayer fervent, devotional, and evidently
+direct from the heart. When this was concluded, and after the lapse of a brief space,
+she began an exhortation, in language pure, beautiful, often eloquent, and occasionally
+rising to a noble sublimity; and then closed with prayer. If interrupted with a question,
+as she frequently was, by clergymen, medical gentlemen, and others, she answered it with
+readiness, and with a felicity of language surpassing belief. &#8216;<span class="special_name">Rachael</span>,&#8217; said a clergyman
+to her in our hearing one evening, while in the midst of her discourse, &#8216;why do you engage
+in these exercises? and why&#8212;&#8212;&#8217; She interrupted the speaker with words to this effect:
+&#8216;I, even I, a worm of the dust, am but a feeble instrument in the hands of <span class="special_name">Him</span> who hath
+declared, &#8216;I will pour out of my spirit upon you; and your sons and your daughters shall
+prophesy; your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. And
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page85" name="page85"></a>85</span>on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my spirit, and they
+shall prophesy.&#8217; Even <em>so</em> <span class="special_name">Father</span>, for so it seemeth good in thy sight!&#8217; The girl was of
+bashful demeanor; altogether uneducated; could scarcely read; knew little of the Bible;
+and indeed in her waking hours conversed in a language that was far from being respectable
+English; but neither in her prayers nor in her exhortations was she ever at fault; nor
+did she at any time exhibit the slightest hesitation or confusion. Her answers to questions
+were brief, pointed, and invariably correct. Crowds flocked to see her, until the public
+curiosity overran all bounds. She was visited by many persons from New-York; and
+finally, under the direction of a committee of medical gentlemen from the city, was brought
+to the metropolis, where she created a great sensation. A pamphlet was written upon her
+case by Dr. <span class="special_name">Mitchell</span>; and we should feel greatly obliged to any reader who would place
+it for a short time in our hands. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A valued</span> friend and correspondent, to whose
+kindness we have frequently been indebted, has sent us a &#8216;<i>Massachusetts Centinel</i>,&#8217; printed
+in Boston sixty years ago; in which, among many other curious and amusing matters, there
+is a copy of an original letter written by the celebrated <span class="special_name">George Alexander Stevens</span>,
+author of &#8216;Lecture on Heads,&#8217; etc., dated at &#8216;Yarmouth Jail, County of Norfolk,&#8217; which
+runs thus:</p>
+<div class="quotation">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">Sir</span>: When I parted from you at Doncaster, I imagined, long before this, to have met with some
+oddities worth acquainting you with. It is grown a fashion of late to write lives; I have now, and
+for a long time have had, leisure enough to undertake mine, but want materials for the latter part of it;
+for my existence now cannot properly be called living, but what the painters term <em>still life</em>; having
+ever since February 13, been confined in this town-goal for a London debt.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;As a hunted deer is always shunned by the happier herd, so am I deserted by the company,<a href="#fn7" class="fnmarker" id="fnm7" title="The Norwich company of players, to which he belonged.">7</a> my
+share taken off, and no support left me, save what my wife can spare me out of hers:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Deserted in my utmost need</p>
+<p>By those my former bounty fed.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8216;With an economy, which until now I was a stranger to, I have made shift to victual hitherto my little
+garrison, but then it has been with the aid of my good friends and allies&#8212;my clothes. This week&#8217;s
+eating finishes my last waistcoat; and next, I must atone for my errors upon bread and water.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;<span class="special_name">Themistocles</span> had so many towns to furnish his table, and a whole city bore the charge of his
+meals. In some respects I am like him, for I am furnished by the labors of a multitude. A wig has
+fed me two days; the trimming of a waistcoat as long; a pair of velvet breeches paid my washerwoman,
+and a ruffled shirt has found me in shaving. My coats I swallowed by degrees. The sleeves I
+breakfasted upon for weeks; the body, skirts, etc., served me for dinner two months. My silk stocking
+have paid my lodgings, and two pair of new pumps enabled me to smoke several pipes. It is incredible
+how my appetite, (barometer like) rises in proportion as my necessities make their terrible
+advances. I here could say something droll about a good stomach, but it is ill jesting with edge tools,
+and I am sure that is the sharpest thing about me. You may think I can have no sense of my condition,
+that while I am thus wretched, I should offer at ridicule: but, Sir, people constituted like me,
+with a disproportioned levity of spirits, are always most merry when they are most miserable; and
+quicken like the eyes of the consumptive, which are always brightest the nearer the patient approaches
+his dissolution. However, Sir, to show you I am not lost to all reflection, I think myself
+poor enough to want a favor, and humble enough to ask it here. Sir, I might make an encomium on
+your good nature, humanity, etc.; but I shall not pay so bad a compliment to your understanding, as
+to endeavor, by a parade of phrases, to win it over to my interest. If you could, any night at a concert,
+make a small collection for me, it might be a means of my obtaining my liberty; and you well
+know, Sir, the first people of rank abroad will perform the most friendly offices for the sick; be not,
+therefore, offended at the request of a poor (though a deservedly punished) debtor.</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">&#8216;Geo. A. Stevens.&#8217;</span></p>
+</div><!--Letter from Stevens-->
+</div><!--Reynard and Rachael Baker-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p><span class="first_word">Among</span> the facetiæ of the &#8216;Centinel&#8217; we find a clever hit at two prominent official characters
+of the name of <span class="special_name">Day</span>: &#8216;<span class="special_name">Titus</span>, a Roman emperor, we are told, once lamented that &#8216;<em>he
+had lost a Day</em>.&#8217; If the commonwealth of Massachusetts were to <em>lose two Days</em>, it would
+not be the cause of much lamentation!&#8217; A correspondent elsewhere observes, that in a procession
+on a certain solemn occasion in this city, the place of the physician was immediately
+before the corpse; which, he adds, was &#8216;exactly consonant with the etiquette observed at
+capital executions in ancient times; the <em>executioner</em> always going before!&#8217; By the way,
+&#8216;speaking of <span class="special_name">Stevens</span>;&#8217; perhaps the reader of good things at second-hand may not be
+aware how much he is indebted to this author&#8217;s &#8216;<i>Lectures on Heads</i>&#8217; for amusement and instruction.
+They were very popular throughout Great Britain; and as illustrated by the
+author, after the manner of &#8216;<span class="special_name">Old Matthews</span>,&#8217; they are said to have been irresistible. It
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page86" name="page86"></a>86</span>was in this collection that the law-cases of &#8216;<span class="special_name">Bullum</span> <i>vs.</i> <span class="special_name">Boatum</span>&#8217; and &#8216;<span class="special_name">Daniel</span> <i>vs.</i> <span class="special_name">Dishclout</span>&#8217;
+had their origin. They are familiar to every school-boy, not less for their wit than
+the canine Latinity in which they abound; &#8216;<i>Primus strokus est provokus</i>; now who gave
+the <i>primus strokus</i>? Who gave the first offence?&#8217; Or, &#8216;a drunken man is &#8216;<i>homo duplicans</i>,&#8217;
+or a double man, seeing things double,&#8217; etc., etc. We annex an example or two of the writer&#8217;s
+<em>individuality</em>. The first is a sketch of a <i>nil admirari</i> critic and amateur, who has travelled
+long enough abroad to fall in love with every thing foreign, and despise every thing belonging
+to his own country except himself: &#8216;He pretended to be a great judge of paintings, but only
+admired those done a great way off, and a great while ago; he could not bear any thing
+painted by any of his own countrymen. One day being in an auction-room where there was
+a number of capital pictures, and among the rest an inimitable painting of fruits and flowers,
+the connoisseur would not give his opinion of the picture until he had examined his catalogue;
+when, finding it was done by one of his own countrymen, he pulled out his eye-glass,
+exclaiming: &#8216;This fellow has spoiled a fine piece of canvass; he&#8217;s worse than a sign-post
+dauber; there&#8217;s no keeping, no perspective, no fore-ground, no <i>chiar&#8217;oscuro</i>. Look you, he
+has attempted to paint <em>a fly</em> upon that rose-bud! Why, it is no more like a fly than I am
+like an &#8212;&#8212;&#8217; But as the connoisseur approached his finger to the picture, the fly flew away.
+It happened to be the <em>real</em> insect!&#8217; Is not the following a forcible picture of a mercurial,
+hero-loving Frenchman? &#8216;Has he property? An edict from the <i>Grand Monarque</i> can take
+it, and he is satisfied. Pursue him to the Bastile, or the dismal dungeon in the country to
+which a lettre-de-cachet conveys him, and buries him for life: there see him in all his
+misery; ask him &#8216;What is the cause?&#8217; &#8216;<i>Je ne sai pas</i>; it is the will of the <i>Grand Monarque</i>.&#8217;
+Give him a <i>soup-maigre</i>, a little sallad, and a hind-quarter of a frog, and he&#8217;s in
+spirits. &#8216;Fal, lal, lal! <i>Vive le Roi?</i> <i>Vive la bagatelle!&#8217;</i>&#8217; Here we have a Materialist
+proving the affinity of matter: &#8216;All round things are globular, all square things flat-sided.
+Now, if the bottom is equal to the top, and the top equal to the bottom, and the bottom and
+top are equal to the four sides, then all matter is as broad as it is long.&#8217; But the materialist
+&#8216;had not in his head matter sufficient to prove matter efficient; and being thus deficient,
+he knew nothing of the matter.&#8217; One of <span class="special_name">Stevens&#8217;s</span> &#8216;heads&#8217; was that of a heartless, devil-may-care
+sort of person, in some respects like the hero of &#8216;<i>A Capital Joke</i>&#8217; in preceding
+pages, who is always &#8216;keeping it up.&#8217; He illustrates his own character very forcibly: &#8216;I&#8217;ll
+tell you how it was; you see, I was in high spirits, so I stole a dog from a blind man, for I
+do <em>so</em> love fun! So then the blind man cried for his dog, and that made me laugh; so says
+I to the blind man. &#8216;Halloo, master! do you want your dog?&#8217; &#8216;Yes, Sir, indeed, <em>indeed</em> I
+do,&#8217; says he. Then says I to the blind man, says I, &#8216;Go look for him! Keep it up!&#8217; I
+always turn sick when I think of a parson; and my brother, he&#8217;s a parson too, and he hates
+to hear any body swear; so I always swear when I am along with him, just to roast him.
+I went to dine with him one day last week; and as soon as I arrived, I began to swear. I
+never swore so well in all my life; I swore all my new oaths. At last my brother laid
+down his knife and fork, and lifting up his hands and eyes, he calls out: &#8216;<em>O Tempora!
+O Mores</em>.&#8217; &#8216;Oh, ho! brother,&#8217; says I, &#8216;don&#8217;t think to frighten me by calling all your
+family about you. I don&#8217;t mind you nor your family neither. Only bring Tempora and
+Moses <em>here</em>&#8212;that&#8217;s all! I&#8217;ll box &#8217;em for five pounds. Keep it up!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">There</span> is many
+a bereaved heart that will be touched by the following sad, sad lines, from the pen of
+<span class="special_name">John Rudolph Sutermeister</span>, a young and gifted poet, whose mortal part has &#8216;been
+ashes these many a year,&#8217; and whom the reader may remember as the author of a little
+poem widely quoted and admired many years ago, commencing:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;O! for my bright and faded hours!</p>
+<p class="i2">When life was like a summer stream,</p>
+<p>On whose gay banks the virgin flowers</p>
+<p class="i2">Blushed in the morning&#8217;s rosy beam,</p>
+<p>Or danced upon the breeze that bare</p>
+<p class="i2">Its store of rich perfume along,</p>
+<p>While the wood-robin poured on air</p>
+<p class="i2">The ravishing delights of song!&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page87" name="page87"></a>87</span>To us, who are familiar with the painful circumstances under which they were written,
+and the deep affliction which they deplore, they seem almost to sob with irrepressible
+grief:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<h3 class="title">A LAMENT.</h3>
+<h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Give</span> not to me the wreath of green,</p>
+<p class="i2">The blooming vase of flowers;</p>
+<p>They breathe of joy which once hath been,</p>
+<p class="i2">Of gone and faded hours!</p>
+<p>I cannot love the rose; though rich,</p>
+<p class="i2">Its beauty will not last:</p>
+<p>Give me&#8212;give <em>me</em> the bloom o&#8217;er which</p>
+<p class="i2">The early blight hath passed!</p>
+<p>The yellow buds&#8212;give <em>them</em> to rest</p>
+<p>On my cold brow and joyless breast,</p>
+<p class="i2">When life is failing fast!</p>
+</div>
+<h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Take far from me the wine-cup bright,</p>
+<p class="i2">In hours of revelry;</p>
+<p>It suits glad brows, and bosoms light,</p>
+<p class="i2">It is not meet for me:</p>
+<p>Oh! I can pledge the heart no more</p>
+<p class="i2">I pledged in days gone by;</p>
+<p>Sorrow hath touched my bosom&#8217;s core,</p>
+<p class="i2">And I am left&#8212;to die!</p>
+<p>Give me to drink of Lethe&#8217;s wave,</p>
+<p>Give me the cold and cheerless grave,</p>
+<p class="i2">O&#8217;er which the night-winds sigh!</p>
+</div>
+<h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Wake not upon my tuneless ear</p>
+<p class="i2">Soft music&#8217;s stealing strain;</p>
+<p> It cannot soothe, it cannot cheer</p>
+<p class="i2">This anguished heart again!</p>
+<p> But place the Æolian harp upon</p>
+<p class="i2">The tomb of her I love;</p>
+<p>There, when Heaven shrouds the dying sun,</p>
+<p class="i2">My weary steps will rove,</p>
+<p>While o&#8217;er its chords Night pours its breath,</p>
+<p>To list the serenade of death</p>
+<p class="i2"> Her silent bourne above!</p>
+</div>
+<h4 class="subtitle">IV.</h4>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Give me to seek the lonely tomb</p>
+<p class="i2">Where sleeps the sainted dead,</p>
+<p>When the pale night-fall throws its gloom</p>
+<p class="i2">Above her narrow bed!</p>
+<p>There, while the winds which sweep along,</p>
+<p class="i2">O&#8217;er the harp-strings are driven,</p>
+<p>And the funereal soul of song</p>
+<p class="i2">Upon the air is given,</p>
+<p>Oh! let my faint and parting breath</p>
+<p>Be mingled with that song of death,</p>
+<p class="i2">And flee with it to heaven!</p>
+</div>
+</div><!--A Lament-->
+</div><!--Bits from Centenial and sad poems-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">Who</span> hath redness of eyes?&#8217; This interrogative &#8216;portion of divine scripture&#8217; is forcibly
+illustrated by an anecdote, related with most effective dryness by a friend of ours. An
+elderly gentleman, accustomed to &#8216;indulge,&#8217; entered the bar-room of an inn in the pleasant
+city of H&#8212;&#8212;, on the Hudson, where sat a grave Friend toasting his toes by the fire.
+Lifting a pair of green spectacles upon his forehead, rubbing his inflamed eyes, and calling
+for a hot brandy-toddy, he seated himself by the grate; and as he did so, he remarked to
+Uncle <span class="special_name">Broadbrim</span> that &#8216;his eyes were getting weaker and weaker, and that even spectacles
+didn&#8217;t seem to do &#8216;em any good.&#8217; &#8216;I&#8217;ll tell thee friend,&#8217; rejoined the Quaker, &#8216;what
+I think. I think if thee was to <em>wear thy spectacles over thy mouth</em> for a few months, thy
+eyes would get sound again!&#8217; The &#8216;complainant&#8217; did not even return thanks for this
+medical counsel, but sipped his toddy in silence, and soon after left the room, &#8216;uttering
+never a word.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">There</span> have been various surmises, and sundry contradictory
+statements, in relation to the work superscribed &#8216;<i>Count D&#8217;Orsay on Etiquette</i>,&#8217; which
+we noticed at some length in our December issue. Mr. <span class="special_name">Willis</span>, of the &#8216;New Mirror&#8217;
+weekly journal, seems to question its having been <em>written</em> by the <span class="special_name">Count</span>, but expresses his
+belief that he may have loaned his name to the publishers &#8216;for a consideration;&#8217; and
+this may possibly have been the fact with the latest London edition. The author of the
+work in question, however, is Mr. <span class="special_name">Charles William Day</span>, an English gentleman,
+whose acquaintance with the usages of the best European society is personal and authentic;
+who has observed and travelled much; and who is moreover an artist of a
+high order; painting in miniature, and sketching with admirable skill. An esteemed
+friend and correspondent of this Magazine writes us from Boston, that the manner of the
+fraud is somewhat as follows: &#8216;Mr. <span class="special_name">Day</span> is the author of a Journal of Travels, which
+Messrs. <span class="special_name">Longman and Company</span> of London proposed to publish. As they treated him,
+however, in a dishonorable manner, he withdrew his <span class="small_all_caps">MSS.</span> from them and came to America.
+In retaliation, they sent orders to this country to have a spurious edition published of his
+work on &#8216;Etiquette,&#8217; which they had formerly brought out, and which they truly supposed
+he designed to reprint in New-York or Boston. It has passed through more than twenty
+editions in London; a fact which I know, from having seen the Messrs. <span class="special_name">Longmans&#8217;</span> letters
+and accounts with the author. His own edition is now in press in Boston; and I learn that
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page88" name="page88"></a>88</span>he has added some &#8216;Hints&#8217; with an especial eye to Yankee manners.&#8217; We have also received
+a letter from Mr. <span class="special_name">Day</span> himself, in which, while he &#8216;forbears at present to make any
+comments on the conduct of the Messrs. <span class="special_name">Longman</span>,&#8217; he proves beyond a doubt that &#8216;the
+Count <span class="special_name">D&#8217;Orsay</span> is <em>not</em> the writer of the &#8216;Hints on Etiquette,&#8217; but that he himself is &#8216;the
+real, true author,&#8217; past all peradventure. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A friend</span> lately returned from the west,
+relates among other matters the following anecdote: &#8216;On board of one of the steam-boats
+on the Mississippi, I encountered a deck-hand, who went by the name of <span class="special_name">Barney</span>. Like
+many of his class, he was a drinking, reckless fellow, but warm-hearted, good-natured, and
+generous to a fault. In early life he was in easy circumstances; was a husband, and the
+father of several children. But one night during a violent storm the house in which he
+resided was struck by lightning, and the whole family, save himself, were instantly killed.
+His own escape was considered a miracle at the time, not even a hair of his head having been
+singed. From that time, however, he took to drinking, and so sank lower and lower until
+he became what I found him. When I had heard his story, I felt somewhat interested in
+the man, and one day managed to draw him into conversation. He told me his early history
+with much natural pathos; and finding him in the &#8216;melting mood&#8217; I endeavored to
+lead him to some serious thoughts upon the subject of his misfortunes, and especially of that
+one which had bereft him in so awful a manner of his wife and children. &#8216;<span class="special_name">Barney</span>,&#8217; said
+I, &#8216;don&#8217;t you think it was a signal mercy that you alone should have escaped unharmed
+from the bolt which destroyed all else you loved upon earth? Was there not at least
+something <em>singular</em> in the fact?&#8217; &#8216;That&#8217;s what I said myself,&#8217; replied <span class="special_name">Barney</span>, in a tremulous
+voice; &#8216;I always thought it was <em>very</em> sing&#8217;lar. But the fact I suppose was this, Mr.
+<span class="special_name">Whitehat</span>. The lightning, you see, was afraid of <em>a man</em>, and so like a d&#8212;&#8212;d sneak, it went
+twisting about to scorch women and little children!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Blackwood</span> has proclaimed
+in a late number, the &#8216;<i>Characteristics of English Society</i>,&#8217; in language of truth and
+soberness, which goes explicitly to confirm the reports of nearly all American and other
+&#8216;foreigners&#8217; who have visited England. We subjoin an extract contrasting English with
+French society:</p>
+<div class="quotation">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">We</span> should indeed be sorry if our demeanor in those vast crowds, where English people flock together,
+rather, as it would seem, to assert a right, than to gratify an inclination, were to be taken as an
+index of our national character: the want of all ease and simplicity, those essential ingredients of
+agreeable society, which distinguish these dreary meetings have long been unfortunately notorious.
+Too busy to watch the feelings of others, and too earnest to moderate our own, that true politeness
+which pays respect to age; which tries to put the most insignificant person in company on a level
+with the most considerable&#8212;virtues which our neighbors possess in an eminent degree&#8212;are, except
+in a few favored instances, unknown among us; while affectation, in other countries the badge of ignorance
+and vulgarity, is ours, even in its worst shape, when it borrows the mien of rudeness, impertinence,
+and effrontery, the appendage of those whose station is most conspicuous, and whose dignity
+is best ascertained. There is more good breeding in the cottage of a French peasant than in all the
+boudoirs of Grosvenor square. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;Frivolity and insipidity are the prevailing characteristics of
+conversation; and nowhere in Europe, perhaps, does difference of fortune or of station produce more
+unsocial or illiberal separation. Very few of those whom fortune has released from the necessity of
+following some laborious profession are capable of passing their time agreeably without the assistance
+of company; not from the spirit of gaity which calls upon society for indulgence; not from any
+pleasure they take in conversation, where they are frequently languid and taciturn; but to rival each
+other in the luxury of the table, or by a great variety of indescribable airs, to make others feel the
+pain of mortification. They meet as if to fight the boundaries of their rank and fashion, and the less
+definite and perceptible is the line which divides them, the more punctilious is their pride. It is a
+great mistake to suppose that this low-minded folly is peculiar to people of rank; it is <em>an English
+disease</em>.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div><!--Etiquette and Society-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p>No doubt of it; and the question naturally arises, &#8216;Are not these the proper people to
+talk about men and manners and society in America?&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="first_word">Never</span> mind, my dear,&#8217; says
+Baron <span class="special_name">Pompolino</span>, while endeavoring to fit the fairy slipper of the lovely <span class="special_name">Cinderella</span>
+upon the long splay foot of one of his ungainly daughters, &#8216;never mind, my dear, <em>she is not at
+all like you</em>!&#8217; The doting father, it will be remembered, gives this verdict as a flattering
+compliment. We have sometimes been amused, where the <i>quo animo</i> was apparent, with
+similar compliments at the hands of reciprocal critics of literature. Pleasant examples in
+this kind have been furnished lately. A very voluminous critic, very far &#8216;down east,&#8217; spoke
+recently in a metropolitan journal of <span class="special_name">Goldsmith</span>&#8217;s &#8216;<i>Deserted Village</i>&#8217; as &#8216;a very common-place
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page89" name="page89"></a>89</span>poem, at the best, and only saved from utter and most contemptuous forgetfulness by
+two or three pleasantries about &#8216;broken tea-cups,&#8217; etc., and by one single passage that
+smacks of sublimity!&#8217; Of the poetry however of the author of &#8216;<i>Man in his Various Aspects
+under the American Republic</i>,&#8217; he expresses in the same columns quite a different
+opinion. &#8216;There has been,&#8217; he writes, &#8216;no English poetry better than his, within the memory
+of man!&#8217; A writer in the last number of the &#8216;<i>Southern Literary Messenger</i>,&#8217; likewise
+voluminous in prose and verse, if we rightly surmise, exhibits contrasts of judgment somewhat
+kindred with the foregoing, although certainly less violent. The author of &#8216;Man in
+his various Aspects,&#8217; he tells us, &#8216;has a <em>boldness</em> that attracts;&#8217; his are the &#8216;strong and
+struggling conceptions which seek utterance in new and original forms.&#8217; He dares &#8216;to
+shun the beaten paths,&#8217; and is not afraid to be obscure. His is not the poetry &#8216;which takes
+the popular ear without tasking the popular thought,&#8217; like &#8216;the simple common-places of
+<span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>.&#8217; Such &#8216;criticism&#8217; as this we have cited must needs &#8216;make the judicious&#8217;
+laugh merely, being too impotent to make them &#8216;grieve.&#8217; It is not perhaps assuming
+too much to suppose, that <span class="special_name">Goldsmith</span>&#8217;s &#8216;Deserted Village&#8217; and <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>&#8217;s &#8216;Psalms
+of Life,&#8217; <em>simple</em> though they be, will live and be cherished in generations of human hearts,
+when the volumes of our critics and their client that yet survive the recollection of any
+save their publishers, shall be &#8216;forgotten and clean out of mind.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span>It is related of the
+celebrated clergyman, <span class="special_name">John Mason</span>, that sitting at a steam-boat table on one occasion, just
+as the passengers were &#8216;falling to&#8217; in the customary manner, he suddenly rapped vehemently
+upon the board with the end of his knife, and exclaimed: &#8216;Captain! is this boat out of
+the jurisdiction of <span class="special_name">God Almighty</span>? If not, let us at least thank <span class="special_name">Him</span> for his continued
+goodness;&#8217; and he proceeded to pronounce &#8216;grace&#8217; amidst the most reverent stillness. It is
+to be hoped, however, that his &#8216;grace&#8217; was not like the few set words handed down from
+father to son, mumbled without emotion, and despatched with indecent haste, which one
+sometimes hears repeated over country repasts. &#8216;Bless this portion of food now in readiness
+for us; give it to us in thy love; let us eat and drink in thy fear&#8212;for <span class="special_name">Christ</span>&#8217;s
+sake&#8212;&#8212;<span class="special_name">Lorenzo</span>, <em>take your fingers out of that plate!</em>&#8217; was a grace once said in <em>our</em>
+hearing, but evidently not in that of the spoilt boy, &#8216;growing and always hungry,&#8217; who
+could not wait to be served. We should prefer to such insensible flippancy the practice
+of an old divine in New-England, who in asking a blessing upon his meals, was wont to
+name each separate dish. Sitting down one day to a dinner, which consisted partly of
+clams, bear-steak, etc., he was forced in a measure to forego his usual custom of furnishing
+a &#8216;bill of particulars.&#8217; &#8216;Bless to our use,&#8217; said he, &#8216;these treasures hid in the sand;
+bless this&#8212;&#8212;&#8217; But the bear&#8217;s-meat puzzled him, and he concluded with: &#8216;Oh! <span class="special_name">Lord</span>,
+<em>thou only knowest what it is</em>!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A favorite</span> correspondent of this Magazine, who appears
+in the pages of the present number for the first time in several months, accompanies
+his excellent paper with a letter, from which we take these sentences: &#8216;Since you last
+heard from me, I have experienced a severe domestic affliction in the loss of my father,
+who died during the last summer. Day after day and night after night for two months I
+sat by his bed-side, hoping in vain for his recovery, until life&#8217;s star was extinguished in the
+darkness of the grave.&#8217; Our cordial sympathies are with our correspondent; but sympathy
+for affliction such as his can carry with it little of consolation to the bereaved:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i10">&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;<span class="first_word">A friend</span> is gone!</p>
+<p>A <span class="special_name">father</span>, whose authority, in show</p>
+<p>When most severe, and must&#8217;ring all its force,</p>
+<p>Was but the graver countenance of love;</p>
+<p>Whose favor, like the clouds of spring, might lower,</p>
+<p>And utter now and then an awful voice,</p>
+<p>But had a blessing in his darkest frown,</p>
+<p>Threat&#8217;ning at once, and nourishing the plant.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>Perchance our friend may now think with <span class="special_name">Cowper</span>, that &#8216;although he loved, yet not
+<em>enough</em>, the gentle hand that reared him.&#8217; &#8216;The chief thing that I have to reproach myself
+with,&#8217; writes one who laments a kindred dispensation of the <span class="special_name">Supreme</span>, &#8216;is a sort of inattention
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page90" name="page90"></a>90</span>to my father&#8217;s feelings, occasionally, arising merely from the disparity of years between
+us, which I am sensible must at times have interfered with his enjoyments. I would
+gladly recall now, if I could, many opportunities I suffered to pass, of being more in his company,
+and more in the way of his advice and instruction.&#8217; But he adds: &#8216;When I reflect on
+these things, it appears to me one of the strongest natural arguments for the immortality of
+the soul, and the renewal of our earthly relations in a world to come, that even where the
+greatest possible attachment subsists between parents and their children, the mere disparity
+of years inevitably prevents that complete association of feelings, and intimate fellowship of
+heart and soul, which is the cement and prerogative of all other friendships: in a world to
+come, but no where else, such attachments must receive their full completion.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">Professor
+Gouraud</span>, well known among us for his devotion to the interests of art and science,
+has perfected a <i>System of Remembrance</i>, which he designates by the term &#8216;<i>Mnemotechny</i>,&#8217;
+and which we venture to predict will prove of the greatest service to nearly every class of
+society. No system of modern mnemonics bears any resemblance to, or comparison with it.
+Such is the astonishing effect of the plan, that young masters and misses, after a brief study of
+it, can with ease answer <em>any</em> question from score after score of close-printed pages, involving
+every variety of events, and all kinds of information. We &#8216;speak but the things which we do
+<em>know</em>,&#8217; in this matter, for seeing is believing. As the scene of Prof. <span class="special_name">Gouraud&#8217;s</span> operations
+is for the present the city, and as the daily journals have made his merits widely known to
+the community, we forbear farther comment at this time upon the useful art which he has
+brought to such wonderful perfection. New classes organize, we understand, at the Professor&#8217;s
+residence, No. 46, Second-street, on the fourth instant. They will be filled at once,
+and speedily followed by others. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">There</span> is an article in the last number of the
+Edinburgh Review upon &#8216;<i>Theatres and the Drama</i>,&#8217; which is replete with wisdom, and
+evinces a thorough mastery of the theme. In alluding to the appeals which are now made
+to the eye by elaborate scenery, machinery, etc., less than to the mind and imagination by
+superior intellectual personation, the reviewer in effect remarks, that the first attempt at positive
+reality is fatal to pleasurable illusion. Every person in the pit is aware that the
+stage <em>is a stage</em>, &#8216;and all the men and women merely players.&#8217; In &#8216;As you Like It,&#8217; at
+Drury-Lane, an attempt was made to imitate the notes of birds. &#8216;Suppose the imitation
+had been so close as to deceive the audience into the belief that there were birds there singing;
+would not the contrast with trees of painted canvass have been revolting? These
+were not the conceptions of <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span>, when he made his chorus say:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i10">&#8216;<span class="first_word">Can</span> this cockpit hold</p>
+<p>The vasty fields of France? or may we cram</p>
+<p>Within this wooden O the very casques</p>
+<p>That did affright the air at Agincourt?</p>
+<p>O pardon! since a crooked figure may</p>
+<p>Attest, in little place, a million;</p>
+<p>And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,</p>
+<p>On your imaginary forces work:</p>
+<p>Suppose within the girdle of these walls</p>
+<p>Are now confined two mighty monarchies:</p>
+<p>Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;</p>
+<p>Into a thousand parts divide one man,</p>
+<p>And make imaginary puisance.</p>
+<p>Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them</p>
+<p>Printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth;</p>
+<p>For &#8217;tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings&#8212;</p>
+<p>Carry them here and there.&#8217;</p></div>
+</div>
+<p>Advice as necessary at the present day as then; for we may enlarge our stages, increase our
+supernumeraries, and engage &#8216;real horses;&#8217; but we can never make any one believe the
+stage is other than the stage. The audience can realize for themselves. This trust in
+the all-sufficiency of imagination is precisely that acted on by children in their daily sports,
+where from the boundless wealth of the imagination, the rudest materials supply the place
+of the costliest. Whoever watches boys &#8216;playing horse,&#8217; making a pocket-handkerchief
+dangling behind to represent the tail, and sees them stamping, snorting, prancing, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page91" name="page91"></a>91</span>champing the imaginary bit, witnesses the alchymy of the imagination, an alchymy out-stripping
+all the wonders and out-weighing all the treasures of the prosaic positive chemistry,
+so longed for by the present generation. The child &#8216;supposes&#8217; the handkerchief a tail, and
+it becomes a tail. He has but to say to his companion: &#8216;This shall be a whip and this shall
+be the harness,&#8217; and the things are there; not as matters of literal fact, but of imaginative
+truth. He plays for the enjoyment of the game and the exercise of his imagination; and
+therefore the handkerchief serves every purpose. This is the procedure of nature. But the
+modern parent, anxious to realize for the child, and to instil a love of accuracy into his
+mind, gives him a superb horse-hair tail, bidding him at the same time be careful not to spoil
+it. What is the result? The child&#8217;s attention is called from the game, to the consideration
+of or delight in the tail, which, originally meant as a collateral aid, now takes the first place.
+The boy no doubt is delighted with his horse-hair tail; but (if it be not altogether superfluous,)
+it will soon destroy his game, so that the exercise, both of frame and imagination,
+is lost; the end becomes subordinate to the means. This is precisely what takes place with
+the drama. Observe also one important point: The tail is <em>real</em>; accuracy is attempted:
+but though the tail be real, the horse is not; the horse is played by a boy, and only by a boy; it
+is in this mimicry that the enjoyment consists. But how absurd to put a real tail on an unreal
+horse! How revolting this mixture of imagination and fact! It is equalled only by that ludicrous
+practice of placing the face of a <em>real</em> watch in the place of a church-clock in a landscape;
+where one may not only see the time of day, but may also hear it <em>struck</em>, and that
+amidst painted trees and houses! This effect, except to the most literal and prosaic minds, is
+revolting and discordant. But this the modern drama is strenuously endeavoring to produce.
+&#8216;In opera, ballet, and spectacle, scenery and illustrations must be effective, because they
+form elements of the piece. In the drama, where the source of entertainment is intellectual,
+they are merely accessories, and should be used in such wise as to keep up the harmony of
+effect, but never so as to distract attention from the drama to themselves.&#8217; Here is a passage
+which is not less applicable in America than in England: &#8216;A few years ago it was not uncommon
+to see several performers of rival excellence supported by others of ability, all
+playing in the same piece. It is now a rare thing for rivals to play together. A single good
+actor, among a dozen bad, is deemed sufficient. Are we then to wonder that the regular
+drama does not pay?&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">Our</span> readers will remember the order given by the Chinese
+Emperor to a corps of Mandarins, who were to exterminate the &#8216;barbarian Englishers&#8217; in
+the harbor of Canton, by going down to the bank of the river in the night, and then and
+there &#8216;dive straight on board those foreign ships, and put every soul of them to death!&#8217;
+Subsequently however the red-bristling foreigners managed to land, when, as it since turns
+out, it became necessary to adopt more sanguinary measures. The Emperor called up one
+of his &#8216;great generals,&#8217; and gave him his dreadful orders: &#8216;You must dress your soldiers,&#8217;
+said he, &#8216;in a very frightful manner, painting their faces with the most horrid figures, and
+depicting dragons and monsters on your banners: you must then rush upon the barbarians
+with fearful outcries, and terrify them so that they will fall down flat on their faces; and
+when they are once down,&#8217; said the Imperial potentate, &#8216;<em>their breeches are so tight that they
+can never get up again</em>!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="special_name">I give</span> you five minutes every day to look at the stars, but
+don&#8217;t particularize; for some in those far-off places send down their light long after they
+have been knocked out of existence, and you may be looking at a blank.&#8217; So wrote &#8216;<span class="special_name">Julian</span>&#8217;
+in this department of our last number. Prof. <span class="special_name">Olmstead</span>, of Yale-College, in a recent lecture
+before the &#8216;Mercantile Library Association,&#8217; described the difficulty of ascertaining the
+distance of the stars from each other and from our earth; yet, he remarked, it had been done.
+The nearest star&#8217;s distance from us had been measured, and by the aid of light, by which it
+could alone be accomplished. That distance, he said, was immense, requiring ten years
+for light to traverse it! The planets, he had no doubt, were inhabited. Of what use was
+the reflection of the sun&#8217;s rays upon them, if there were no eyes there to behold it? What
+was the use of moons, which the planets certainly have? He spoke also of the fixed stars,
+which seem by the aid of a telescope to be innumerable. What was their purpose?&#8212;for a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page92" name="page92"></a>92</span>guide to mariners? No; for a very small portion of them could be seen by the unassisted
+eye. They were suns like our suns, to worlds like our worlds! To the inhabitants of those
+fixed stars our sun appears as a star, and the planetary system revolving around it, of
+which the earth is one, are unseen by them, as are those of theirs by us! Great <span class="special_name">God</span>!
+&#8216;When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou
+hast ordained; what is <em>man</em>, that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou
+visitest him!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">Our</span> correspondent who writes of &#8216;<i>The Country</i>,&#8217; in preceding
+pages wields a facile pen. His allusion to the choice of <em>names</em> for a country-seat reminds
+us of the pleasant satire of &#8216;<em>Thinks-I-to-myself</em>&#8217; upon this theme: &#8216;We lived, you must
+know,&#8217; he writes, &#8216;in a <em>Hall</em>; not when I was born, however, nor till long afterward. My
+sister happened to have a correspondent at school near London, who finding it essentially
+necessary to the support of her dignity among her school-fellows, always directed her letters
+so; for the parents of one she found, lived at something <span class="special_name">House</span>; and of another at What&#8217;s-its-name
+<span class="special_name">Place</span>; and of another at Thingummy <em>Lodge</em>; of another at the <em>Grange</em>; of
+another at the <em>Castle</em>; of another at the <em>Park</em>; Miss <span class="special_name">Blaze</span>, the daughter of a retired
+tallow-chandler, whose father lived at Candlewick-Castle, was continually throwing out
+hints that not to live at a &#8216;Castle,&#8217; or a &#8216;Park,&#8217; or a &#8216;Place,&#8217; or a &#8216;House,&#8217; or a &#8216;Lodge,&#8217;
+unequivocally bespoke a low origin!&#8217; Is this folly altogether indigenous to England? Let
+the high-sounding names of scores of painted pine palaces not a thousand miles from this
+metropolis make answer. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="special_name">It</span> don&#8217;t weigh as much as I expected, and I always
+<em>thought</em> it wouldn&#8217;t!&#8217; We were reminded of this remark of a person who desired a certain
+result, but was at the same time unwilling to relinquish his pride of opinion, by the note
+of our Mississippi correspondent, to whose long communication we alluded in our last
+number. We <em>have</em> &#8216;taken its measure,&#8217; as we promised, and find it quite beyond our
+compass. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">Our</span> friend the <em>Poetical Englishman</em> is somewhat severe upon the godly
+inhabitants of &#8216;<span class="special_name">Botolph&#8217;s Town</span>;&#8217; yet we see nothing in his epistle that is not justified
+by recent occurrences in the &#8216;Literary Emporium.&#8217; It is lamentable that Boston should be
+robbed of a decent theatre by an epidemic of pseudo-sanctity. <span class="special_name">Macready</span> was compelled
+to play a recent engagement at a second-rate house, down in the &#8216;Wapping&#8217; end of the
+town, whither all the beauty and fashion crowded nightly through the mud to see him. It
+strikes us that the &#8216;<i>Purification Hymn</i>,&#8217; alluded to by our correspondent, must have been
+a choice production of some <span class="special_name">Mawworm</span> of the day. Its reasoning is highly pellucid, and
+its dignity is past all question. &#8216;Mimic scenes, and mirth and joy,&#8217; it would seem, &#8216;allure
+souls&#8217; to endless perdition! Now against the licentiousness and drunkenness of the theatre
+too much cannot be said; but for &#8216;mimic scenes&#8217; dragging men to &#8212;&#8212;. But <i>cui bono</i>?
+&#8216;Your dull ass will never mend his pace with beating.&#8217; By the by, we are well pleased to
+see our English friend&#8217;s preference for mind over matter, in the way of <em>dramatic</em> personations.
+Yet England has little reason to boast. What says &#8216;the <span class="special_name">Viscount</span>&#8217; to the Chevalier
+(d&#8217;industrie) <span class="special_name">Pip</span>? &#8216;What&#8217;s the good of <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span>, <span class="special_name">Pip</span>? I never read him.
+What the devil is it all about? There&#8217;s a lot of feet in <span class="special_name">Shakspeare&#8217;s</span> verse, but there ain&#8217;t
+any legs worth mentioning in <span class="special_name">Shakspeare&#8217;s</span> plays, are there, <span class="special_name">Pip</span>? Juliet, Desdemona,
+Lady Macbeth, and all the rest of &#8217;em, whatever their names are, might as well have
+no legs at all, for any thing the audience know about it. I&#8217;ll tell you what it is; what the
+people call dramatic poetry is a collection of sermons. Do I go to the theatre to be lectured?
+No; if I wanted that, I&#8217;d go to church. What&#8217;s the legitimate drama, <span class="special_name">Pip</span>? Human
+nature. What are legs? Human nature. Then let us have plenty of leg-pieces,
+<span class="special_name">Pip</span>, and I&#8217;ll stand by you, my buck!&#8217; This is &#8216;the ticket&#8217; in London, as well as in
+&#8216;<span class="special_name">Botolph</span> his town.&#8217; The &#8216;legs have it&#8217; there as well as here. Meanwhile the sometime
+gallant Thespian is in a sad plight, from having little to do and little pay for it. Admirers
+fall off, one after another, under such circumstances; and even the gentle sex forget their
+old enthusiasm:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Oh! once again we met, but no bandit-chief was there;</p>
+<p>His rouge was off, and gone that head of once luxuriant hair:</p>
+<p>He lodges in a two-pair back, and at the tavern near</p>
+<p>He cannot liquidate his &#8216;chalk&#8217; nor wipe away his beer.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page93" name="page93"></a>93</span>I saw him sad and seedy, yet methinks I see him now,</p>
+<p>In the tableau of the last act, with the blood upon his brow.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>And thus he goes on, following his &#8216;occupation&#8217; in one sense, and gradually sinking
+lower and lower; until at length:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i6">&#8216;<span class="first_word">Alas</span>! poor rat!</p>
+<p class="i6">He has no cravat;</p>
+<p>A seedy coat, and a hole in that!</p>
+<p>No sole to his shoe, no brim to his hat;</p>
+<p>Not a change of linen, except his skin:</p>
+<p class="i6">No gloves, no vest,</p>
+<p class="i6">Either second or best;</p>
+<p>And what is worse than all the rest,</p>
+<p>No light heart, though his breeches are thin!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div><!--Unusable articles, the worth of Shakspeare, actors-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p><span class="first_word">Is</span> not the following illustration of &#8216;<i>The Affections</i>,&#8217; by Rev. <span class="special_name">Geo. B. Cheever</span>, &#8216;beautiful
+exceedingly?&#8217; &#8216;On a bright day in summer, while the west wind breathes gently,
+you stand before a forest of maples, or you are attracted by a beautiful tree in the open
+field, that seems a dense clump of foliage. You cannot but notice how easily the wind
+moves it, how quietly, how gracefully, how lovingly, the whole body of it. It is simply
+because it is covered with foliage. The same wind rustling through its dry branches in
+winter, would scarce bend a bough, or only to break it. But now, softly whispering
+through ten thousand leaves, how gently the whole tree yields to the impression! So it is
+with the affections, the feelings. They are the foliage of our being, moved by the spirit
+of <span class="special_name">God</span>.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> annual <em>Festival of Saint Nicholas</em>, beloved of all good <span class="special_name">Knickerbockers</span>,
+was celebrated on the sixth ultimo at the City Hotel, by a crowded assemblage
+of the members of the Society, and their invited guests. The new President was invested
+with the orange-badge and venerable cocked-hat of his &#8216;illustrious predecessor,&#8217; and new
+subordinate officers were installed into their several stations; after which ceremony a
+sumptuous repast, served in the well-known style of Messrs. <span class="special_name">Jennings and Willard</span>,
+was discussed with universal <i>goût</i>. For the toasts regular and volunteer, and speeches
+voluntary and involuntary, we must refer the reader to the daily journals &#8216;of that period;&#8217;
+while we simply add, that from soup to Paäs eggs, <i>schnaaps</i>, and pipes, every thing passed
+off with unwonted hilarity and spirit. May we live to see fifty kindred gatherings of the
+votaries of our patron saint! <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="first_word">You</span> don&#8217;t like smokin&#8217;, &#8217;taint likely?&#8217; asked a lank
+free-and-easy Yankee, as he entered a room where four or five young ladies were sewing,
+puffing a dank &#8216;long-nine.&#8217; &#8216;Well, <em>we do not</em>,&#8217; was the immediate reply. &#8216;Umph!&#8217; replied
+the smoker, removing his cigar long enough to spit, &#8216;<em>a good many people don&#8217;t!</em>&#8217;&#8212;and
+he kept on smoking. We know of <em>one</em> reader of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, a thousand miles
+from the hand that jots down this anecdote, who will enjoy it hugely; and indeed it is
+mainly for him that we record it. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">This</span> is <em>Thanksgiving Evening</em> in the Empire
+State; and as there is a fair-haired, hazle-eyed little boy pulling at our &#8216;sword-arm,&#8217; (too
+fatigued with writing to offer any resistance) suppose we read to you, while he sits &#8216;throned
+on his father&#8217;s knee,&#8217; this timely and admirable passage from the pen of <span class="special_name">Charles Hoover</span>,
+Esq., of New-Jersey, a fine scholar, and a writer of as pure Saxon English as the best
+among us:</p>
+
+<div class="quotation">
+<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">There</span> is much in the aspect of Divine Providence at the present time, both toward our own country
+and the world, to awaken gratitude and thoughtful joy. An unexampled spectacle is presented in the
+current history of the world. It is moving on almost without a ripple. The changes of time are
+taking place as noiselessly as the ordinary changes of nature. The decay of old and injurious social
+and political systems is going on like the crumbling of ruins in a desert, by the force of inherent tendency
+rather than by external violence; and milder and more benignant systems are appearing, not
+like those islands sprung by volcanic shocks above the bosom of the deep, but like the beauty of spring,
+or the glory of summer, by a natural and imperceptible growth. Within the memory of many yet
+living there was a very different state of things. Scarcely a month then passed without a shock, a
+press and medley in human affairs that amazed and bewildered men, and kept anxiety on the stretch.
+Such was the history of Europe. Every change was a concussion; every fear a storm; every revolution
+a convulsion. Not less in motion is society now, but it is like the motion of the spheres, grand
+and silent; and that silence is the emblem and the evidence of greatness and power in the present
+movement of Providence in human affairs. The once apparently random and divergent lines of that
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page94" name="page94"></a>94</span>Providence now seem to be flowing to a common point, and terminating in one great result&#8212;the improvement
+and happiness of our race. Abating much of what has been extravagantly vaunted about
+the march of mind and the perfectibility of human society, it is still visibly true that the general condition
+of the world is improved and improving. Vast accessions have been made to science; knowledge
+has been diffused over a wider surface, than was ever before known; ignorance is felt to be a
+calamity if not a crime; truths that were formerly contemplated only in the closet of the sage, have
+become familiarized in the cottage and the common mind; the rights of men are better defined and
+understood; the power of rulers is swayed within juster limits, and is every where abandoning its
+old apparatus of racks and halters and dungeons as the means of governing immortal mind, and is
+silently conceding to it its alienable prerogative of free thought.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div><!--Saint Nicholas and Thanksgiving-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p><span class="first_word">We</span> have little to chronicle of <em>The Drama</em> proper this month. <em>Music</em>, vocal and instrumental,
+has kept this branch of the fine arts somewhat in the back-ground. We have had
+the pleasure to see Mr. <span class="special_name">Macready</span> once only at the Park, on which occasion he personated
+the character of <span class="special_name">Melantius</span> in &#8216;<i>The Bridal</i>&#8217; with transcendent power. We have seen
+this fine actor in no part, if we except perhaps that of Werner, in which his genius shone
+so conspicuous. He was admirably supported by the scarcely subordinate characters represented
+by <span class="special_name">Wheatly</span>, <span class="special_name">Rider</span>, Miss <span class="special_name">Cushman</span>, and Mrs. <span class="special_name">H. Hunt</span>. Mr. <span class="special_name">Wheatly</span> has
+evidently much of &#8216;the heavy business&#8217; at the Park upon his broad shoulders, for he appears
+in two or three pieces almost every night. On the occasion alluded to, no sooner had
+the curtain risen after &#8216;The Bridal,&#8217; than we found him making Stentorian love (&#8216;in a
+horn&#8217;) to the &#8216;Dumb Belle&#8217; of the evening, in which he excited shouts of uproarious
+laughter. At the <span class="special_name">Bowery Theatre</span>, as well as at the <span class="special_name">Chatham</span>, &#8216;<i>The Mysteries of Paris</i>&#8217;
+has run a most successful career. The <span class="special_name">Olympic</span> has been crowded nightly by the mingled
+attractions of opera and travestie; while the <span class="special_name">Bowery Amphitheatre</span> and <span class="special_name">Rockwell&#8217;s</span>
+Circus at <span class="special_name">Niblo&#8217;s</span>, have shared abundantly in the favor bestowed now-a-days upon popular
+entertainments. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="first_word">Dress</span> always and <em>act</em> to please your partner for life, as you were
+fain to do before the nuptial-knot was tied.&#8217; This is an old maxim, and here is &#8216;a commentator
+upon it.&#8217; A newly-married lady is suddenly surprised by a visit from a newly-married
+man, when she straightway begins to apologize: &#8216;She is horribly chagrined, and out
+of countenance, to be caught in such a dishabille; she did not mind how her clothes were
+huddled on, not expecting any company, there being nobody at home but her husband!&#8217;
+The husband meanwhile shakes the visitor&#8217;s hand, and says: &#8216;I am heartily glad to see
+you, <span class="special_name">Jack</span>: I don&#8217;t know how it was, I was almost asleep; for as there was nobody at home
+but my wife, I did not know what to do with myself!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> beautiful lines by Mrs. <span class="special_name">M.
+T. W. Chandler</span>, elsewhere in the present number, illustrate, or are illustrated by the following
+passage from <span class="special_name">Warren Hasting&#8217;s</span> eloquent reflections upon the changes to which
+the <span class="small_all_caps">SOUL</span> is destined hereafter: &#8216;When the hour is at hand which is to dissolve the mortal
+tie, the soul parts without regret with those delights which it received from its sensual gratifications,
+and dwells only, dwells with a fond affection, on the partner or pledges of its love;
+or on friends from whom it seems to be cut off for ever; and if it looks, as it must look, to
+futurity, these are the first objects of its wishes connected with it, and the first ingredients
+in its conceptions of celestial felicity. For my own part (and on a subject like this, where
+can we so properly appeal as to ourselves?) although my reason dictates to me the hope of a
+future happiness, whatever may be the mode of it, yet my heart feels no interest in the prospect
+when viewed as a scene of solitary, selfish enjoyment. It recoils with horror at the
+thought of losing the remembrance of every past connexion, and even of those whom it
+loved most dearly, and of being forgotten by them utterly and for ever. Is this too, it asks,
+one of the delusions of life? No; for all its other passions expire before it; but this remains,
+like hope, &#8216;nor leaves us when we die.&#8217;&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> &#8216;<i>Anglo-American</i>&#8217; literary
+journal has just issued to its subscribers one of the finest counterfeit presentments of
+<span class="special_name">Washington</span> that we have ever seen. It is a print almost the size of a full-length cabinet portrait
+in oil, engraved in a masterly manner by <span class="special_name">Halpin</span> after <span class="special_name">Gilbert Stuart&#8217;s</span> celebrated
+picture. If this superior engraving is a sample of what the patrons of the &#8216;Anglo-American&#8217;
+are hereafter to expect from its publishers, it is easy to foresee that that spirited journal
+has entered upon a long career of popularity. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="first_word">T.&#8217;s</span> &#8216;<i>Stanzas</i>&#8217; await his order at the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page95" name="page95"></a>95</span>publication-office. They are far from lacking merit, but are in parts artificial and labored.
+Lines eked out with accented letters, in which</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;all the syllables that end in éd,</p>
+<p>Like old dragoons, have cuts across the head,&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>always seem to us to come rather from the head than the heart. We shall expect, nevertheless,
+to hear from our friend again, according to promise. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> &#8216;stop the press&#8217; to announce
+that Mr. <span class="special_name">Punch</span> has just dropped in from England, bringing the latest intelligence from &#8216;the
+other side.&#8217; He has lately visited several places on the continent, not so much to see them
+as to be enabled to say, like other English travellers, that he <em>had been there</em>. &#8216;Mr. <span class="special_name">Punch</span>,
+having arrived at Rouen late at night, left it very early the next morning, much impressed
+with the institutions of the city, both civil and architectural, as well as its manners, customs,
+and social life, which he is about to embody in a work called &#8216;<i>Six hours and a half at
+Rouen</i>,&#8217; to be brought out by a fashionable publisher.&#8217; From the reports of one of the
+learned societies, we derive the following important scientific information: &#8216;Mr. <span class="special_name">Sappy</span> read
+a paper, proving the impossibility of being able to see into the middle of next week, from
+known facts with regard to the equation of time. He stated that, supposing it possible for
+a person to ascend in a balloon sufficiently high for his vision to embrace a distance of seven
+hundred miles from east to west, he would then only see forty minutes ahead of him; that
+is, he would see places where the day was forty minutes in advance of the day in which he
+lived. Thus he might be said to see forty minutes into futurity. It has also been proved
+that, in sailing round the world in one direction, a day&#8217;s reckoning is gained; so that the
+sailor on his return finds himself to be &#8216;a man in advance of his age&#8217; by one day. This one
+day, however, is the farthest attainable limit; and it is therefore impossible to see into the
+middle of next Week!&#8217; &#8216;Mr. <span class="special_name">Tite</span>, proprietor of the &#8216;Metropolitan Bakedtatery&#8217; brought forward
+his new &#8216;Low Pressure Potatoe-Can,&#8217; upon an improved principle. It was constructed
+of tin, and warranted to sustain a pressure of twenty potatoes upon the square bottom. Mr.
+<span class="special_name">Tite</span> explained that the steam had nothing to do with the warmth of the fruit, but was quite
+independent of it.&#8217; &#8216;Mr. <span class="special_name">Flit</span> brought forward his new and improved Street Telescope for
+looking at the moon. It was most ingeniously constructed, being to the eye a fine instrument
+of six feet long. Mr. <span class="special_name">Flit</span> explained, however, that the telescope itself was only an
+eighteen-inch one, the case being manufactured to increase its importance, in which the
+real glass was enclosed. The chief merit of this invention was, that the moon could be
+seen equally well on cloudy nights, or when there was none at all, the case enclosing an
+ingenious transparency of that body, behind which a small lamp was hung. Mr. <span class="special_name">Flit</span>
+could always command a view of any of the celestial bodies by the same means.&#8217; Here
+are a few items of law from &#8216;<i>The Comic Blackstone</i>:&#8217; &#8216;The statute of <span class="special_name">Edward</span> the Fourth,
+prohibiting any but lords from wearing pikes on their shoes of more than two inches long,
+was considered to savor of oppression; but those who were in the habit of receiving
+from a lord more kicks than coppers, would consider that the law savored of benevolence.&#8217;
+&#8216;Unlawfully detaining a man in any way is imprisonment; so that if you take your neighbor
+by the button, and cause him to listen to a long story, you are guilty of imprisonment.&#8217;
+<span class="special_name">Punch&#8217;s</span> idea of &#8216;<em>Woman&#8217;s Mission</em>&#8217; differs somewhat from other reformers of the times:
+&#8216;To replace the shirt-button of the father, the brother, the husband, which has come off in
+putting on the vestment; to bid the variegated texture of the morning slipper or the waistcoat
+grow upon the Berlin wool; to repair the breach that incautious haste in dressing has
+created in the coat or the trowsers, which there is no time to send out to be mended; are the
+special offices of woman; offices for which her digital mechanism has singularly fitted
+her.&#8217; Apropos of &#8216;<em>Missions</em>:&#8217; we perceive that <span class="special_name">Dickens</span> understands this vague verbal
+apology for eccentricity or humbugeousness, if we interpret aright his frail and tearful <span class="special_name">Moddle</span>;
+&#8216;who talked much about people&#8217;s &#8216;missions,&#8217; upon which he seemed to have some private
+information not generally attainable,&#8217; and who, &#8216;being aware that a shepherd&#8217;s mission
+was to pipe to his flock, and that a boatswain&#8217;s mission was to pipe all hands, and that
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page96" name="page96"></a>96</span>one man&#8217;s mission was to be a paid piper, and another man&#8217;s mission was to pay the piper,
+had got it into his head that his own peculiar mission was to pipe his eye, which he did perpetually.&#8217;
+<span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A curious</span> volume has recently appeared in Paris, entitled &#8216;<i>Poésies Populaires
+Latines antérieures au Douzième Siècle</i>;&#8217; and as sequels to the work, are certain satires
+upon the avarice and corruption of the papal government in the twelfth century, among
+which is the following curious parody:</p>
+<div class="quotation">
+
+<p>&#8216;<i>Here beginneth the Gospel according to Marks of silver.</i>&#8212;In that time the pope said to the Romans:
+When the son of man cometh to the seat of our majesty, say ye first, Friend, what seekest
+thou? But if he continue knocking, and give you nothing, cast him out into utter darkness. And it
+came to pass that a certain poor clerk came to the court of our lord the pope, and cried out, saying,
+Have pity on me at least you, O gate-keepers of the pope, for the hand of poverty hath touched me.
+Verily I am needy and poor; therefore, I pray ye, relieve my calamity and my wretchedness. But
+they, when they heard him, were very wroth, and said, Friend, thy poverty be with thee to perdition!
+get behind me, Sathanas, for thou art not wise in the wisdom of money. Verily, verily I say unto
+thee, thou shalt not enter into the joy of thy lord until thou hast given thy last farthing. And the
+poor man departed, and sold his cloak and his coat and all that he had, and gave it to the cardinals and
+to the gate-keepers; and they said, What is this among so many? And they cast him out before the
+doors; and he went out, and wept bitterly, and might not be comforted. Then there came to the
+court a certain rich clerk, great and fat and swollen, who in a riot had slain a man. He gave first to
+the gate-keeper, secondly to the chamberlain, thirdly to the cardinals; but they thought among
+themselves that they should have received more. And when our lord the pope heard that the cardinals
+and ministers had received many gifts of the clerk, he became sick unto death. But the rich
+man sent him a medicine of gold and silver, and immediately he was cured. Then our lord the pope
+called to him the cardinals and ministers, and said to them, Brethren, see that no one seduce you with
+empty words; for I give you an example, that as I myself receive, so receive ye.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+<p>The corruptions of this era are equally well illustrated by a very amusing anecdote of
+&#8216;a handsome Italian friar, <i>teres atque rotundus</i>, about thirty, and extremely bold and eloquent;&#8217;
+doubtless one of that class so felicitously limned by <span class="special_name">Thomson</span>:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;A little round, fat, oily man of <span class="special_name">God</span></p>
+<p>Was one I chiefly marked among the fry;</p>
+<p>He had a roguish twinkle in his eye</p>
+<p>And shone all glittering with ungodly dew,</p>
+<p>If a tight damsel chanced to trippen by;</p>
+<p>Which when observed he shrunk into his mew,</p>
+<p>And straight would recollect his piety anew.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>One day at a remote confessional of the church he declared an unholy and forbidden
+passion to a young and beautiful married lady, whom he had long &#8216;followed with his eyes,&#8217;
+and begged permission to visit her at her residence. Struck with surprise at this new
+revelation of his character, she evaded reply, being secretly minded to inform her husband,
+when she returned home, which she did, word for word. He told his wife to contrive to let
+the friar come, alone and in secret, the next evening, which chanced to be that of Saturday,
+and the night before the Sunday of Saint Lazarus, on which occasion the friar was to
+preach. The appointment was made; the friar came, true to the late hour which had
+been designated; was received at the door, and shown into the lady&#8217;s bed-room by a servant,
+who informed him that she had desired him to request the good man to retire to rest,
+and to say that &#8216;she would be with him straight.&#8217; The friar prepared to comply with the
+direction, and was about stepping into bed, when the door opened suddenly, and the lady
+entered in great apparent trepidation, exclaiming: &#8216;My husband is knocking at the door!
+For heaven&#8217;s sake slip into that chest,&#8217; showing him a double one in the apartment, &#8216;and
+lie there until I see what may be done! Meanwhile I will hide your clothes somewhere or
+other, as well as I am able. Heaven knows I fear more for your holy person than I do for
+my own life!&#8217; The unfortunate wretch, seeing himself reduced to such a pass, did as the
+worthy lady desired; while the husband, presently coming in, retired to rest with his wife,
+who had first locked the friar safe in the chest. The poor prisoner uttered sundry involuntary
+noises in the course of the night, and was in the direst terror at the inquiries which
+they awakened on the part of the husband. Daylight at length came, and the church-bells
+began to ring for prayers, which greatly annoyed the captive, who was to preach at the
+cathedral. The husband having risen, ordered two servants to carry the chest to the church
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page97" name="page97"></a>97</span>and place it in the middle, saying they were ordered to do so by the preacher; and that unlocking
+the chest without raising the lid, they should leave it there; all which the fellows
+did very neatly. Every body stared, and wondered what all this could mean; some said one
+thing and some another. At last the bell having ceased to ring, and no one appearing in
+the pulpit, or any other part of the church, a young man rose and said: &#8216;Really, the good
+friar makes us wait quite too long; pray let us see what he has ordered to be brought in
+this chest.&#8217; Having said this much, he before all the congregation lifted up the lid, and
+looking in, beheld the friar in his shirt, pale, almost frightened to death, and certainly appearing
+more dead than alive, and as if buried in the chest. Finding himself discovered,
+however, he collected his mind as well as he could, and stood upright, to the great astonishment
+of all present; and having taken his text from the Sunday of Lazarus, he thus addressed
+his congregation: &#8216;My dear brethren: I am not at all astonished at your surprise
+in seeing me brought before you in this chest, or rather at my ordering myself to be brought
+thus: ye know that this is the way in which our holy church commemorates the wonderful
+miracle our <span class="special_name">Lord</span> performed on the person of <span class="special_name">Lazarus</span>, in raising him from the dead who
+had been buried four days. I was desirous in your favor to present myself to you as it were
+in the form of <span class="special_name">Lazarus</span>, in order that seeing me in this chest, which is no other than an
+emblem of the sepulchre wherein he had been buried, you might be moved more effectually
+to the consideration of what perishable things we are; and that seeing me stripped of all
+worldly decorations, thus in my shirt, you may be convinced of the vanity of the things
+of this world, the which, if only duly considered, may tend greatly to the amending of
+our lives. Will you believe that since yesterday night I have been a thousand times
+dead, and revived as <span class="special_name">Lazarus</span> was; and considering my dreadful situation, remember (as
+it were with the memory of a similar penance in your hearts) that we must all die, and
+trust to <span class="special_name">Him</span> who can bestow upon us life eternal: but first ye must die to sin, to avarice,
+to rapine, to lust, and all those sinful deeds to which our nature prompts us.&#8217; In such language,
+and in such manner, did the friar continue his sermon. The husband, astonished
+at the extraordinary presence of mind which he displayed, laughed heartily at his success;
+and in consideration of the adroitness of the culprit, did not attempt any farther revenge;
+&#8216;but,&#8217; it is added, &#8216;he took very good care to shut his door in future against all such double-faced
+hypocrites.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Reader</span>, what are you thinking of at this moment? &#8216;Nothing.&#8217;
+Indeed! and so were we, and of how much a clever man once said upon the subject; observe:
+&#8216;Philosophers have declared they knew nothing, and it is common for us to talk about doing
+nothing; for from ten to twenty we go to school to be taught what from twenty to thirty we
+are very apt to forget; from thirty to forty we begin to settle; from forty to fifty, we think
+away as fast as we can; from fifty to sixty, we are very careful in our accounts; and from
+sixty to seventy, we cast up what all our thinking comes to; and then, what between our
+losses and our gains, our enjoyments and our inquietudes, even with the addition of old age,
+we can but strike a balance of ciphers.&#8217; Happy are they who amidst the variations of nothing
+have nothing to fear; if they have nothing to lose, they have nothing to lament; and if they
+have done nothing to be ashamed of, they have every thing to hope for. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Sententiousness</span>,
+let us inform &#8216;S.&#8217; of Cambridge, and antitheses, do not consist of short sentences
+and inversion of words <em>merely</em>; and even the most felicitous examples in each case
+often sacrifice the sound to the sense. Here is an instance which is unobjectionable: &#8216;I knew
+the old miser well. He amassed a fortune by raising hemp; and if he had had his deserts,
+would have died as he lived by it.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Just</span> as the sheets of this department were
+passing to the press, we received the announcement of a public exhibition of two collections
+of pictures, which we have seen, and to which we cannot resist the impulse of directing
+the public attention. At the rooms of the National Academy, corner of Broadway
+and Leonard-street, may be seen Mr. <span class="special_name">Cole&#8217;s</span> allegorical pictures of &#8216;The Voyage of Life,&#8217;
+heretofore noticed at length in these pages; &#8216;<i>Mount Ætna, from Taormina, Sicily</i>,&#8217; one of
+the most noble paintings that ever came from this eminent artist&#8217;s pencil; &#8216;Angels ministering
+to Christ in the Wilderness;&#8217; &#8216;The Past and the Present;&#8217; &#8216;A View of Ruined
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page98" name="page98"></a>98</span>Aqueducts in the Campagna di Roma,&#8217; and other pictures; altogether, an exceedingly
+fine collection. Indeed, the superb view of Ætna alone, with its vast and sublime accessories,
+is of itself an exhibition worth twice the price of admission. At the rooms of the
+<span class="special_name">Apollo Association</span>, nearly opposite the Hospital, in Broadway, Mr. <span class="special_name">Harvey&#8217;s</span> series of
+<i>Forty Historic or Atmospheric American Landscape Scenes</i> are to be seen for a short time.
+It needed not the high patronage of Queen <span class="special_name">Victoria</span>, the praises of English royalty and
+nobility, nor the warm encomiums of <span class="special_name">Allston</span>, <span class="special_name">Sully</span>, <span class="special_name">Moore</span>, and others, to secure
+attention to these graphic sketches from nature. They are their own best recommendation.
+Trust our verdict, reader, and go and <em>see</em> if they are not. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="special_name">Terpsichore</span>&#8217; is the title
+of a very spirited satirical poem read at the annual dinner of the Phi Beta Kappa Society
+of Cambridge University in August last, by <span class="special_name">Oliver Wendell Holmes</span>, and copied in
+&#8216;<i>Graham&#8217;s Magazine</i>&#8217; for January. We subjoin a passage which although abundantly
+poetical contains yet more truth than poetry. It &#8216;bases&#8217; upon the <span class="special_name">Dickens</span> dinner:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">He</span> for whose sake the glittering show appears</p>
+<p>Has sown the world with laughter and with tears,</p>
+<p>And they whose welcome wets the bumper&#8217;s brim</p>
+<p>Have wit and wisdom&#8212;for they all quote him.</p>
+<p>So, many a tongue the evening hour prolongs</p>
+<p>With spangled speeches, let alone the songs;</p>
+<p>Statesmen grow merry, young attorneys laugh,</p>
+<p>And weak teetotals warm to half-and-half,</p>
+<p>And beardless Tullys, new to festive scenes,</p>
+<p>Cut their first crop of youth&#8217;s precocious greens;</p>
+<p>And wits stand ready for impromptu claps,</p>
+<p>With loaded barrels and percussion-caps;</p>
+<p>And Pathos, cantering through the minor keys,</p>
+<p>Waves all her onions to the trembling breeze;</p>
+<p>While the great Feasted views with silent glee</p>
+<p>His scattered limbs in Yankee fricassee.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays</p>
+<p>The pleasing game of interchanging praise;</p>
+<p>Self-love, grimalkin of the human heart,</p>
+<p>Is ever pliant to the master&#8217;s art;</p>
+<p>Soothed with a word, she peacefully withdraws</p>
+<p>And sheaths in velvet her obnoxious claws,</p>
+<p>And thrills the hand that smooths her glossy fur</p>
+<p>With the light tremor of her gentle pur.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>But what sad music fills the quiet hall</p>
+<p>If on her back a feline rival fall!</p>
+<p>And oh! what noises shake the tranquil house,</p>
+<p>If old <span class="special_name">Self-interest</span> cheats her of a mouse!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thou, O my country! hast thy foolish ways,</p>
+<p>Too apt to pur at every stranger&#8217;s praise:</p>
+<p>But if the stranger touch thy modes or laws,</p>
+<p>Off goes the velvet and out come the claws!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And thou, Illustrious! but too poorly paid</p>
+<p>In toasts from Pickwick for thy great crusade,</p>
+<p>Though while the echoes labored with thy name</p>
+<p>The public trap denied thy little game,</p>
+<p>Let other lips our jealous laws revile&#8212;</p>
+<p>The marble <span class="special_name">Talfourd</span> or the rude <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>;</p>
+<p>But on thy lids, that Heaven forbids to close</p>
+<p>Where&#8217;er the light of kindly nature glows,</p>
+<p>Let not the dollars that a churl denies</p>
+<p>Weigh like the shillings on a dead man&#8217;s eyes!</p>
+<p>Or, if thou wilt, be more discreetly blind,</p>
+<p>Nor ask to see all wide extremes combined;</p>
+<p>Not in our wastes the dainty blossoms smile</p>
+<p>That crowd the gardens of thy scanty isle;</p>
+<p>There white-cheek&#8217;d Luxury weaves a thousand charms,</p>
+<p>Here sun-browned Labor swings his Cyclop arms;</p>
+<p>Long are the furrows he must trace between</p>
+<p>The ocean&#8217;s azure and the prairies&#8217; green;</p>
+<p>Full many a blank his destined realm displays,</p>
+<p>Yet see the promise of his riper days:</p>
+<p>Far through yon depths the panting engine moves,</p>
+<p>His chariots ringing in their steel-shod groves,</p>
+<p>And Erie&#8217;s naiad flings her diamond wave</p>
+<p>O&#8217;er the wild sea-nymph in her distant cave:</p>
+<p>While tasks like these employ his anxious hours,</p>
+<p>What if his corn-fields are not edged with flowers?</p>
+<p>Though bright as silver the meridian beams</p>
+<p>Shine through the crystal of thine English streams,</p>
+<p>Turbid and dark the mighty wave is whirled</p>
+<p>That drains our Andes and divides a world.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>Under the similitude of a <em>German-silver-spoon</em>, &#8216;used by dabblers in æsthetic tea,&#8217; we have
+the annexed palpable hit at the small-beer imitators of <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>, and copyists after the external
+garb of the German school, who have occasionally shown themselves up in the pages
+of &#8216;The Dial,&#8217; a work which formerly &#8216;indicated rather the place of the moon than the sun:&#8217;</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Small</span> as it is, its powers are passing strange;</p>
+<p>For all who use it show a wondrous change,</p>
+<p>And first, a fact to make the barbers stare,</p>
+<p>It beats Macassar for the growth of hair:</p>
+<p>See those small youngsters whose expansive ears</p>
+<p>Maternal kindness grazed with frequent shears;</p>
+<p>Each bristling crop a dangling mass becomes,</p>
+<p>And all the spoonies turn to Absaloms!</p>
+<p>Nor this alone its magic power displays&#8212;</p>
+<p>It alters strangely all their works and ways;</p>
+<p>With uncouth words they tire their tender lungs,</p>
+<p>The same bald phrases on their hundred tongues;</p>
+<p>&#8216;Ever&#8217; &#8216;The Ages&#8217; in their page appear,</p>
+<p>&#8216;Alway&#8217; the bedlamite is called a &#8216;Seer;&#8217;</p>
+<p>On every leaf the &#8216;earnest&#8217; sage may scan,</p>
+<p>Portentious bore! their &#8216;many-sided&#8217; man;</p>
+<p>A weak eclectic, groping, vague and dim,</p>
+<p>Whose every angle is a half-starved whim,</p>
+<p>Blind as a mole and curious as a lynx,</p>
+<p>Who rides a beetle which he calls a &#8216;Sphinx.&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And O what questions asked in club-foot rhyme</p>
+<p>Of Earth the tongueless and the deaf-mute Time!</p>
+<p>Here babbling &#8216;Insight&#8217; shouts in Nature&#8217;s ears</p>
+<p>His last conundrum on the orbs and spheres;</p>
+<p>There Self-inspection sucks its little thumb,</p>
+<p>With &#8216;Whence am I?&#8217; and &#8216;Wherefore did I come?&#8217;</p>
+<p>Deluded infants! will they ever know</p>
+<p>Some doubts must darken o&#8217;er the world below,</p>
+<p>Though all the Platos of the nursery trail</p>
+<p>Their &#8216;clouds of glory&#8217; at the go-cart&#8217;s tail?</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page99" name="page99"></a>99</span>We should exceedingly like to hear Mr. <span class="special_name">A. Bronson Alcott&#8217;s</span> opinion as touching the <em>faithfulness</em>
+of the foregoing. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">There</span> is a fearful lesson conveyed in the annexed communication
+from a metropolitan physician, who assures us that it is in all respects an accurate
+statement of an occurrence to which he was an eye-witness: &#8216;Duty impels me, Mr.
+<span class="special_name">Editor</span>, to lay before you one of the little incidents which my situation as a medical man
+has brought to my notice. There is no class of men who are led with keener perceptions
+to investigate human nature than enlightened practising physicians. They have a hold
+upon the affections and confidence of every class of society; and for this reason they
+should feel it incumbent upon themselves to act the part of <em>moral</em> as well as <em>physical</em> agents.
+For myself, I think it would be well if medical men were so far constituted missionaries,
+as to make it a duty to point a moral whenever it would be likely to be well received. I
+am aware that attempts of this sort with many persons would be vain or injudicious, and
+sometimes nauseate perhaps, like the accompanying drugs; but eventually it might prove
+salutary to the soul; and although cursed for good advice, is it not in the end a blessing?
+But to my story: I was called a short time since to a youth about twenty years of age:
+he had been only a few months in the city, and I had occasionally seen him, but had little
+acquaintance with him, being much his senior. When I entered, one of his fits of raving,
+occasioned by fever, was just coming on. I approached and took his hand: &#8216;What do you
+want?&#8217; said he; &#8216;you look so mild and yet so penetrating. I have not got any.&#8217; &#8216;Any
+<em>what</em>?&#8217; said I. &#8216;Any money,&#8217; he replied; &#8216;the drawer was locked, and I could not get
+any without being seen; so go away!&#8217; &#8216;I came to cure you, not to take your money,&#8217; I
+replied. &#8216;Ah!&#8217; said he, &#8216;did I not take some from you? Look! look! There they come!
+sixpences, shillings! See! see! how they tumble from the wall! Look! there is a piece
+of gold! See! look! there they keep coming! I never took all this!&#8212;at first I only took
+enough to get a cigar with, now and then. See! the room is filling! I shall suffocate!&#8217;
+&#8216;What does this mean, young man?&#8217; said I; &#8216;be calm.&#8217; &#8216;Did they not tell you to <em>come and
+feel my pulse and see if there was not a sixpence in it</em>?&#8217; &#8216;No, no; I came to make you better.&#8217;
+&#8216;Better? <em>better</em>? <span class="small_all_caps">BETTER</span>? Here, hide these; don&#8217;t let my friends know of them;
+they were stolen! I cannot look at them now. Ha! ha! ha!&#8212;I cannot!&#8217; I was induced to
+remain until the frenzy of the fever had passed off, and found the young man had intervals
+of reason. He was now in deep despondency. I inquired his name. He had dropped it,
+he said; he could not debase it. &#8216;Debase it?&#8217; said I. &#8216;Yes!&#8217; he answered, with a groan
+like a howl. The next day the young man sent for me again. He appeared much altered;
+said that he did not wish to live; that he had &#8216;<em>a gnawing at his soul</em>.&#8217; I remarked that he
+was very young to be tired of life; that if he had been guilty of any crime he should
+desire to live to expiate it. &#8216;No,&#8217; he replied, &#8216;the stain will always last!&#8217; I told him, not
+so; that if he heartily repented and turned to the right source for consolation, it would be
+vouchsafed him. &#8216;I feel that I cannot live,&#8217; he replied, &#8216;and my friends will be better satisfied
+to know that I am repentant in my last moments, and that I am gone, than they
+would be to think of me as a vagabond, let loose upon society: they will at least feel that
+I shall &#8216;cease from troubling.&#8217; I have not the excuse that many delinquents have pleaded,
+early initiation into vice. My childhood was passed with pious relatives, who labored
+to instil religious principles into my mind; but I &#8216;would none of their reproof.&#8217; My friends
+not being wealthy, I was left at a proper age to my own resources. I found a situation
+where my talents were appreciated by my employer, and perhaps too highly estimated by
+myself. I had a brother who was ten years my senior, whom I loved and esteemed&#8212;may
+Heaven keep him in blessed ignorance of my fate!&#8212;but I thought less highly of his intellect
+when I saw him excited by some sublime hymn, which angels might listen to, than I
+did of my own, when I turned from the devotions of the Sabbath to join my idle companions.
+In the situation I held, I might have gained respectability; but my besetting sin
+betrayed me so often, that the kind indulgence of a good master could no longer conceal
+my crimes. I now see that the sting inflicted by vice must and <em>will</em> remain! We may repent,
+we may be forgiven; but the mind will not part with its bitter recollections!&#8217; I was
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page100" name="page100"></a>100</span>here called away for a few moments, and when I returned, the unhappy young man was
+in the land of spirits! I learned that he was engaged to a highly amiable young lady, who
+relinquished him, and shortly afterward died of a broken heart. <em>Her</em> sad fate threw him
+into a brain-fever, and as you perceive, decided <em>his</em> likewise. Incidents like these I am
+aware have often been narrated; yet if the tragedy which I have depicted should be
+blessed to the use of any young man abandoned to temptation and addicted to small crimes,
+and lead him to reflection, it will be a gratification to feel that my feeble effort, with Heaven&#8217;s
+help, has proved &#8216;a word in season.&#8217;&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">There</span> are inequalities of merit in the &#8216;<i>Dirge</i>&#8217;
+of &#8216;D. D.&#8217; of Hartford, though the <em>spirit</em> of the verse is tender and touching. We annex
+a few stanzas, in illustration of our encomium:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Thrust</span> him in his narrow bed,</p>
+<p>Heap the cold earth on his head,</p>
+<p>But be sure no tear ye shed&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i6">Not a tear for him!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Bitter toil was his from birth,</p>
+<p>Dearly bought his homely mirth,</p>
+<p>While his master was of earth&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i6">Now he&#8217;s of the sky.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Death knocked at his door at night,</p>
+<p>With his crushing hand of might,</p>
+<p>Woke him to that morning light</p>
+<p class="i6">Which can know no noon!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When that sacred morning beam</p>
+<p>Wakes his spirit, life shall seem</p>
+<p>But a dreary changeful dream&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i6">Soon o&#8217;er, and not too soon!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Patiently for few long years,</p>
+<p>Struggling with earth&#8217;s giant fears,</p>
+<p>With hands too busy to wipe tears,</p>
+<p class="i6">Met he life&#8217;s long shock.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Yet not all blank and desolate</p>
+<p>Was this poor man&#8217;s earthly state;</p>
+<p>Hope, toil, content, can soften fate,</p>
+<p class="i6">As the moss the rock.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>O! lost Brother! still and cold,</p>
+<p>Sunk like rain into the mould,</p>
+<p>Silently, unseen, untold&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i6">Thou &#8217;rt a <span class="special_name">God</span>-sown seed!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>It is a sad sight to look upon the corpse of a laborer, cut down in the midst of a toilsome
+life; his hard, knotty hands clasped upon the still breast, and the strong limbs laid in
+serene repose. And yet how happy the change! No longer does he ask leave to toil; no
+longer is he at war with poverty, for death has made it a drawn battle. He &#8216;rests from
+his labors&#8217; where the rich and the poor meet together, and he hears no more the voice of
+the oppressor. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Perhaps</span> our readers will have observed that the <i>Sketches of East
+Florida</i> are from no common pen. The description which has been given by the writer, of
+the delicious climate in that sunny region, may to many &#8216;Northeners&#8217; seem exaggerated;
+but such is not the fact. A friend writing recently from St. Augustine, thus playfully
+alludes to the effect which the climate produces upon a New-Yorker: &#8216;If a business-man
+could be caught up from the whirl of Broadway, and dropped in a warm climate, say that
+of St. Augustine, and left under a fig-tree to his own reflections, his first thought doubtless
+would be for an omnibus &#8216;right up.&#8217; &#8216;Rather queer!&#8217; he would say; &#8216;a hot sun, sandy
+street, and not a carriage to be seen! There&#8217;s a man out in his slippers, and a woman
+with her head tied up in a handkerchief&#8212;may-be a night-cap; probably some old Dutch
+settlers that went to-sleep with <span class="special_name">Rip Van Winkle</span>. Wild turkeys, as I live, all about the
+market!&#8212;and oh, <span class="special_name">Lord</span>! there&#8217;s a little nigger with only a shirt on! Halloo there! you
+little nigger! tell me the way to the Broadway coaches! No coaches? no omnibii? Well,
+where&#8217;s your five-o&#8217;clock boats?&#8212;where&#8217;s your Harlaem rail-road? I want to go back
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page101" name="page101"></a>101</span>to town!&#8217; Such would probably be his first go-off; and the next impulse would be to run,
+shout, cry fire! or murder!&#8212;any thing to produce a sensation; but unless very soon about
+it, he would find himself yielding to some strange influence hitherto unfelt; and it would be
+amusing to notice how soon the fretting restless man of the forty-second latitude would be
+tamed down in the thirteenth to the equanimity of a child asleep. The climate enters
+within the man, and brings out one by one some hidden and better impulse, at the same
+time laying a gentle hand upon his rougher humors; so that when he would shout, he hums,
+and when he would laugh, he smiles only; and in undertaking to run, he is caught about
+the waist; and goes floating smoothly around in the ground-swell motion of the Spanish-dance.&#8217;
+<span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> perceive that the <em>Copy-right Question</em> has been thus early brought
+before the National Legislature. From the present aspect of things we may indulge a
+well-grounded hope that authors who have worn themselves out in making other people
+happy, will not hereafter be left to perish amidst age and infirmity, unrelieved by the fruit
+of their labors. There is one argument exceedingly well illustrated in the recent address
+of the &#8216;Copy-right Club.&#8217; In allusion to the floods of trash which have for months inundated
+the Atlantic cities and towns, the writer, addressing himself to American citizens,
+observes: &#8216;In all other circumstances and questions save that of a literature, you have
+taken the high ground of freedom and self-reliance. You have neither asked, nor loaned,
+nor besought, but with your own hands have framed, what the occasion required. Whatever
+stature you have grown to as a nation, it is due to that sole virtue; and by its exercise
+may you only hope to hold your place. In almost any other shape than that of silent books
+you would have spurned the foreign and held fast to the home-born; but stealing in quietly
+at every opening, making themselves the seemingly inoffensive and unobtrusive lodgers in
+every house, they have full possession of the country in all its parts; and another people
+may promise themselves in the next generation of Americans, (as the question now goes,)
+a restored dominion which their arms were not able to keep. The pamphlet will carry the
+day where the soldier fell back.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> derive the annexed stanzas through a Boston correspondent.
+He assures us that the work of art which they commemorate is most honorable
+to the genius of the sculptor, who has been winning laurels ever since his removal to
+the tasteful city:</p>
+<h3 class="title">LINES</h3>
+<h4 class="subtitle">WRITTEN ON COMPLETING A MARBLE BUST OF THE LATE WASHINGTON ALLSTON.</h4>
+<h4 class="byline">BY M. A. BRACKETT.</h4>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Upward</span> unto the living light</p>
+<p class="i2">Intensely thou dost gaze,</p>
+<p>As if thy very soul wouldst seek</p>
+<p class="i2">In that far distant maze</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Communion with those heavenly forms</p>
+<p class="i2">That lifting to the sight</p>
+<p>Their golden wings and snowy robes,</p>
+<p class="i2">Float on a sea of light.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Anon far, far away they glide,</p>
+<p class="i2">Shooting through realms of bliss,</p>
+<p>Till from the spirit&#8217;s eye they fade</p>
+<p class="i2">In heaven&#8217;s own bright abyss.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Such are the visions thou dost wake,</p>
+<p class="i2">Such are the thoughts that rise</p>
+<p>In him who &#8217;neath thy upturned brow</p>
+<p class="i2">Beholds thy spirit-eyes.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>There is no stain upon that brow;</p>
+<p class="i2">Pure as thy holy life</p>
+<p>Serene and calm, thy heavenly face&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i2">Within, no wasting strife.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>How strangely have the swift hours flown</p>
+<p class="i2">As o&#8217;er the shapeless pile</p>
+<p>I poured the full strength of my soul,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lost to all else the while!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When fell the last faint stroke which told</p>
+<p class="i2">That thou and I must part,</p>
+<p>That all of life that I could give</p>
+<p class="i2">Was thine, how throbbed my heart!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Yet to this form that I have reared</p>
+<p class="i2">Should aught of praise belong,</p>
+<p>Not unto me the merit due,</p>
+<p class="i2">But Him who made me strong:</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Who with his ever fostering care</p>
+<p class="i2">My wayward steps did guide,</p>
+<p>Through paths of flowers, in beauty cloth&#8217;d,</p>
+<p class="i2">Along life&#8217;s sunny tide.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Semblance of him, the great, the good,</p>
+<p class="i2">Whose task on earth is done;</p>
+<p>Of those that walked in beauty&#8217;s light</p>
+<p class="i2">Thou wert the chosen one!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+</div><!--Drama and dirges-->
+<div class="gossip_section">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page102" name="page102"></a>102</span><span class="first_word">We</span> should like to see in some appropriate journal a sketch of the <i>Progress of Mechanics
+in the United States</i>. Without any question, the Americans are, in respect of that branch
+of science, behind no nation or people on earth. And yet no longer ago than 1791, a
+clock-maker from London, after public advertisement of his arrival from England for that
+purpose, visited our scattered cities and towns to repair clocks! &#8216;Yankee ingenuity&#8217; was
+not then as now synonymous with the accomplishment of <em>any</em> thing that can either be fabricated
+or &#8216;fixed&#8217;. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> have no remembrance of the communication referred to in a
+note from a correspondent at Albany, in which we find the following sentences: &#8216;If received,
+I hope it was not amenable to the censure in a late number of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>,
+of certain correspondence, for having been written &#8216;too carefully.&#8217; Now I do flatter myself
+upon so <em>writing</em>, that compositors can have no excuse for blunders, though I am well
+aware that to be esteemed a Genious, one&#8217;s chirography should very nearly approach unintelligibility.
+If this be true, the patience and good nature of an Editor must be severely
+tried; but I incline to the opinion that a man of Genious need not model after <span class="special_name">Byron</span>&#8217;s facsimile,&#8217;
+and so forth. Our correspondent <em>does</em> write a good hand; so good indeed, that we
+lament, as we gaze at it, that he does not know how to <em>spell</em>. A man may certainly be a
+&#8216;<em>Genious</em>&#8217; without being able to write a clerkly hand; but a man who is <em>not</em> a &#8216;Genious,&#8217;
+ought at least to be able to spell the word. As to writing &#8216;too carefully,&#8217; our censor has
+mistaken the letter for the spirit of our remarks. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> lines &#8216;<i>To my Mother</i>&#8217; are
+replete with the poetry of <em>feeling</em>. Their literary execution however is marred by deficiencies,
+which although slight, require amending. Our correspondent we are sure has the
+true poetical vein; and we shall not despair of hearing from her again. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A very</span>
+&#8216;inquiring&#8217; correspondent desires to know &#8216;whether there is any thing below a <i>quartette</i>, in
+music?&#8212;a <i>pintette</i> or a <i>gillette</i>?&#8217; He is also anxious, he says, to &#8216;ascertain whether
+<span class="special_name">Puffer Hopkins</span> is any relation to the pious poet who was in partnership in the psalm
+and hymn way with old Uncle <span class="special_name">Sternhold</span>, a great many years ago.&#8217; Moreover, he considers
+it &#8216;a little curious&#8217; that a black hen should lay a white egg; and states that he &#8216;would
+give something handsome to be certain whether or no <span class="special_name">Nebuchadnezzar&#8217;s</span> hands, when he
+was out on grass, grew six-penny or ten-penny nails!&#8217; His remaining queries are profane;
+indeed, the last one goes somewhat too near the edge. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;<span class="special_name">Ever</span> anxious to please,&#8217;
+as the advertisements have it, we have placed the original department of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>
+in a larger type; and it seems to us that we may ask with some confidence
+whether our readers ever saw a Magazine in a neater garniture than &#8216;this same?&#8217; Only
+have the consideration to <em>reciprocate</em> our endeavors to please you, good <span class="special_name">Public</span>, and you
+&#8216;shall see what you shall see.&#8217; There are certain delinquents upon our books, to whom
+we would venture to insinuate, in the most delicate manner conceivable, that &#8216;it is high
+time somebody had a sight of somebody&#8217;s money.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A new</span> style of frames for
+drawings, engravings, paintings, looking-glasses, etc., has recently been brought to great
+perfection, and into very general favor, by Mr. <span class="special_name">Weiser</span>, at No. 43 Centre-street, near Pearl.
+They are composed externally of <em>glass-veneerings</em>, beautifully painted and shaded, so as to
+resemble different-tinted woods, tortoise-shell, or indeed any other colors that may be desired.
+These are painted on the inner side of the glass, which is so firmly cemented to
+the wood-frames as to be little liable to injury from jarring or even falling. With a gilt
+beading, they have a very beautiful appearance, by reason of the admirable lustre of the
+glass, which gives to them a polish finer than that of the most susceptible woods. They
+are, in short, exceedingly handsome, easily kept clean, always new and fresh, and what is
+worthy of mention, much cheaper than wood or gilt.</p>
+</div><!--Geneous and dunning-->
+</div><!--Gossip with Readers and Correspondents-->
+<div class="ed_table_item">
+<p>&#8258; <span class="first_word">Will</span> our readers have the kindness to exhibit the <span class="special_name">Advertisement of our Twenty-third
+Volume</span> to their friends? It will be found on the second and third pages of the cover of the present
+number; and they can testify to the accuracy of its unexaggerated statements. Many articles in
+prose and verse await examination or insertion, and a more particular reference hereafter. Notices
+are in type of new publications from the presses of Messrs. <span class="special_name">Burgess and Stringer</span>, <span class="special_name">M. W. Dodd</span>, <span class="special_name">J.
+Winchester</span>, the <span class="special_name">Langley&#8217;s</span>, <span class="special_name">D. Appleton and Company</span>, <span class="special_name">M. H. Newman, Wiley and Putnam</span>, and
+of the &#8216;Columbian Magazine,&#8217; which we are reluctantly compelled to defer to our February issue.</p>
+</div><!--Coming soon...-->
+</div><!--Editor's Table-->
+<div id="footnotes">
+<h2 class="title">Footnotes</h2>
+<ol class="fnlist">
+<li><p id="fn1"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm1">Return to text</a></span>Heures, prayers.</p></li>
+<li><p id="fn2"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm2">Return to text</a></span>Float.</p></li>
+<li><p id="fn3"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm3">Return to text</a></span><span class="first_word">This</span> allusion is to <span class="special_name">Byrant&#8217;s</span> lines &#8216;To the Fringed
+ Gentian,&#8217; a poem so replete with truth and beauty, that we
+ cannot resist the inclination to quote it here.</p>
+ <p class="sign"><span class="author">Ed. Knickerbocker.</span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="first_word">Thou</span> blossom bright with autumn dew,</p>
+<p>And coloured with the heaven&#8217;s own blue.</p>
+<p>That openest, when the quiet light</p>
+<p>Succeeds the keen and frosty night.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thou comest not when violets lean</p>
+<p>O&#8217;er wandering brooks and springs unseen,</p>
+<p>Or columbines, in purple dressed,</p>
+<p>Nod o&#8217;er the ground-bird&#8217;s hidden nest.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thou waitest late, and com&#8217;st alone,</p>
+<p>When woods are bare and birds are flown,</p>
+<p>And frosts and shortening days portend</p>
+<p>The aged year is near his end.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye</p>
+<p>Look through its fringes to the sky,</p>
+<p>Blue&#8212;blue&#8212;as if that sky let fall</p>
+<p>A flower from its cerulean wall.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I would that thus, when I shall see</p>
+<p>The hour of death draw near to me,</p>
+<p>Hope, blossoming within my heart,</p>
+<p>May look to heaven as I depart.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</li>
+<li><p id="fn4"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm4">Return to text</a></span>By the word &#8216;columnæ,&#8217; Horace (though <span class="special_name">Bentley</span> knew it not) evidently meant the columns of
+the Roman newspapers.</p></li>
+<li><p id="fn5"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm5">Return to text</a></span>The name of Boston, in Lincolnshire, is said to be derived from <span class="special_name">St. Botolph</span>&#8212;quasi <span class="special_name">Botolph&#8217;s</span>
+town.</p></li>
+<li><p id="fn6"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm6">Return to text</a></span>At the late opening of the &#8216;Tremont Temple&#8217; in Boston, the new proprietors chanted what they
+called a &#8216;Purification Hymn,&#8217; of which we give one stanza:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#8216;Satan has here held empire long&#8212;</p>
+<p class="i2">A blighting curse, a cruel reign;</p>
+<p>By mimic scenes, and mirth and song</p>
+<p class="i2">Alluring souls to endless pain!&#8217;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+</li>
+<li><p id="fn7"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm7">Return to text</a></span>The Norwich company of players, to which he belonged.</p>
+</li>
+
+</ol>
+</div><!--footnotes-->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, 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 Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, January 1844
+ Volume 23, Number 1
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19383]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+
+Knickerbocker,
+
+
+OR
+
+
+NEW-YORK MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
+
+
+VOLUME XXIII.
+
+
+NEW-YORK:
+PUBLISHED BY JOHN ALLEN, NASSAU-STREET.
+1844.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+A.
+
+ Apostrophe to an Old Hat. By J. G. SAXE, 69
+ A Lady on the Rights of Women, 79
+ A Second Ralph Ringwood, 81
+ Ascent of Mount AEtna. By THOMAS COLE, 103
+ A Night on the Prairie. By a Buffalo Hunter, 114
+ A Winter Trip to Trenton Falls, 133
+ A Veritable Sea-Story. By HARRY FRANCO, 151
+ A Few Hints on the Philosophy of Size, 156
+ American Manners and American Literature, 180
+ An Apostrophe to Health, 217
+ Anacreontic. By 'G. H. H.', 275
+ A Christmas Carol in Prose, 276
+ American Ptyalism: 'Quid Rides?' 288
+ A Pilgrimage to Penshurst. By C. ALEXANDER, Esq., 307
+ A First Night of Racine. By FLANEUR, 345
+ Apostrophe to Time. By Miss MARY GARDINER, 353
+ An Alligatorical Sketch, 361
+ Address and Poem at Boston, 387
+ A Brace of 'Pellets' from Julian, 391
+ A Dream. By JOHN WATERS, 432
+ A Piscatorial Eclogue, 46
+ A Picture by Murillo, 503
+ A Song. By JOHN WATERS, 516
+ Autobiography of the Prairie Hermit, 557
+ A Dream of Youth, 561
+ A New Spirit of the Age, 583
+ A Day With the great SEATSFIELD, 584
+ A Thrust with a Two-edged Weapon, 590
+ Another 'Pellet' from JULIAN, 595
+
+
+B.
+
+ Benthamiana, 282
+ Belizarius: A Historical Sketch, 337
+ Birth-Day Meditations, 527
+
+
+C.
+
+ Coronation of George the Fourth, 138
+ Curiosities of Foreign and Domestic Literature, 490
+ CLARK'S Literary Remains, 495, 578
+
+
+D.
+
+ Descriptive Poetry, 1
+ Drawings and Tintings. By ALFRED B. STREET, 387
+ Disguised Derivative Words in English, 570
+
+
+E.
+
+ EDITOR'S TABLE, 78, 180, 283, 389, 499, 584
+ Essay on a Passage in Macbeth. By JOHN WATERS, 153
+ Elementary Treatise on Human Physiology, 178
+ Early Spring at the Homestead, 438
+ English State Trials under the Popish Plot, 447
+ Exhibition of the National Academy of Design, 595
+
+
+F.
+
+ Freedom's Beacon at Bunker-Hill, 132
+ Fragments from the Greek. By 'G. H. H.', 361
+
+
+G.
+
+ Ganguernet: or a Capital Joke, 62
+ GOSSIP with Readers and Correspondents, 83, 192, 289, 396, 505, 599
+
+
+I.
+
+ I Follow: from the French, 145
+ Isabel: the Death of the Young, 218
+ Idyll: in imitation of Theocritus, 323
+ Inscription for a Sarcophagus, 367
+ Italy and the Italians. By J. T. HEADLEY, Esq., 498
+ Impudence of the French, 499
+
+
+J.
+
+ JOSEPH C. NEALE'S 'Charcoal Sketches,' 184
+
+
+K.
+
+ KENDALL'S Narrative of the Santa Fe Expedition, 382
+
+
+L.
+
+ Lines to a Fringed Gentian. By WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, Esq., 28
+ Lines to Death, the Great Conqueror, 44
+ Letter to the Editor from Mr. JAMES JESSAMINE, 58
+ Love's Elysium: from the German, 61
+ Lines to an Evening Cloud, 73
+ LITERARY NOTICES, 74, 170, 276, 382, 490, 578
+ Lines to Time. By Mrs. J. WEBB, 113
+ Life's Young Dream, 119
+ Life: a Sonnet, 159
+ Lines to J. T. of Ireland. By C. W. DAY, Esq., 169
+ Life and Times of the late WILLIAM ABBOTT, 187
+ Lines sent with a Bouquet. By PARK BENJAMIN, Esq., 211
+ Legend of Don Roderick. By WASHINGTON IRVING, 262, 324, 418
+ Literary Record, 305
+ Lines with a 'Floral Messenger,' 534
+ Lines written under a portrait of Jupiter and Danaee, 430
+ Lines to my Sister. By R. S. CHILTON, 472
+ Legend of the Subjugation of Spain. By WASHINGTON IRVING, 572
+ Lines by Prof. Plutarch Shaw, of Tinnecum, 577
+ Life in the New World. By SEATSFIELD, 581
+
+
+M.
+
+ Mexico as it was and is. By BRANTZ MAYER, Esq., 77
+ Music, Musicians, Musical Critics, and Ole Bull, 80
+ Mr. CHEEVER'S Lectures on the Pilgrims, 388
+ MARY MAY: the Newfoundland Indian, 523
+ Mental Hygiene. By WILLIAM SWEETSER, M. D., 581
+ Magazine Writing, 589
+
+
+N.
+
+ Night and Morning. By 'POLYGON', 257
+ Night-Thoughts: to BLUMINE, 436
+ North-American Review for the April quarter, 492
+
+
+O.
+
+ Old reflections on the New Year, 78
+ One Reading from Two Poets. By JOHN WATERS, 218
+ On Rivers and Other Things. By do., 349
+
+
+P.
+
+ Poems of JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 170
+ Professor Shaw, of Tinnecum, 549
+ Poetry and History of Wyoming. By WILLIAM L. STONE, Esq., 382
+
+
+R.
+
+ Reminiscenses of a Dartmoor Prisoner, 146, 356, 517
+ Reves et Souvenirs, 343
+ Religious Controversy. By 'FLACCUS,' 445
+
+
+S.
+
+ Song of the New Year. By Mrs. R. S. NICHOLS, 25
+ Stanzas suggested by GLIDDON'S Lectures, 29
+ Sketches of East Florida: St. Augustine, 45
+ Sonnet to the Old Year, 53
+ Some Thoughts on the Country, 70
+ Scenes and Scenery in the Sandwich Islands, 77
+ Sicilian Scenery and Antiquities. By THOMAS COLE, 103, 236
+ Some Sentiments on Sonnets, with Sundry Specimens, 283
+ Stanzas to MARY. By Mrs. M. E. HEWITT, 348
+ Stanzas on the Burial of an Infant, 460
+ Stanzas to Niagara. By CLAUDE HALCRO, 489
+ Stanzas to my Three Departed Sisters, 556
+ Stanzas Written in Indisposition. By the late WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK, 569
+
+
+T.
+
+ The Idleberg Papers: a Christmas Yarn, 11
+ Thoughts on Color. By JOHN WATERS, 26
+ The Quod Correspondence, 30, 120, 245, 368, 473, 529
+ Thoughts from Bulwer. By Mrs. M. T. W. CHANDLER, 52
+ The Mail Robber, 53
+ The AEneid of Virgil: with Notes by CHAS. ANTHON, 76
+ The Sacrifice, 127
+ The Death-Bed. By the 'COUNTRY DOCTOR,' 128
+ The Ruins of Burnside. By JAMES LAWSON, Esq., 137
+ The Smithy. By ALFRED B. STREET, Esq., 155
+ Two Pictures: Love Celestial and Love Terrestrial, 160
+ The Hermit of the Prairie, 161
+ Translation from CATULLUS. By Rev. Geo. W. BETHUNE, 166
+ The Painted Rock, 167
+ Thirty Years among the Players of England and America, 175
+ The Study of Woman's Life, 179
+ The American Review, 179
+ The North American Review, for January, 183
+ The Alms-House: a New-England Sketch, 212
+ The Tyranny of Affection, 222
+ The Fratricide's Death, 232
+ The Spectre Imp. By Mr. GEORGE HARVEY, 338
+ The Church Bell, 368
+ The Inner Life of Man. By Mr. CHARLES HOOVER, 389, 599
+ The Floral Resurrection, 417
+ The Dog-Star Spirit: or, Tray's Reflections, 431
+ The Poet Halleck: Epistle to the Editor, 437
+ The Plague at Constantinople in 1837, 511
+ The Song of Death. By MISS MARY GARDINER, 523
+ The Householder. by JOHN WATERS, 528
+ The Hearth of Home, 548
+
+
+V.
+
+ Vicissitudes, 10
+ Voices of Affection, 336
+
+
+W.
+
+ Winter Evening: an Extract. By J. G. PERCIVAL, Esq., 24
+ What is Transcendentalism? 205
+ Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor, 281
+ What is It? A Lover's Query, 489
+
+
+ +-------------------------------------------------+
+ | Transcriber's Note: The page numbers in the |
+ | index convert to issues in the following way: |
+ | |
+ | January, 1844 1-102 |
+ | February 103-204 |
+ | March 205-306 |
+ | April 307-408 |
+ | May 409-510 |
+ | June 511-608 |
+ +-------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ T H E K N I C K E R B O C K E R.
+
+VOL. XXIII. JANUARY, 1844. NO. 1.
+
+
+
+
+DESCRIPTIVE POETRY.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+Whatever the poets may say, it is incontrovertible that the great majority
+of men look upon the beauties and glories of Nature that surround them
+with almost entire indifference. We shall not inquire whether this is the
+result of a natural incapacity to perceive and admire the beautiful and
+sublime, or whether it is that their impressions are so deadened by
+familiarity as to be passed by unnoticed. Probably the former is the case
+with the greater number; although we cannot believe with some writers,
+that all our ideas of beauty are but the results of association, or of our
+perceptions of the proportion, or fitness, or utility of things. When we
+say that some things are naturally agreeable, and others naturally
+disagreeable, we have said all that we know about the matter; and this
+amounts to nothing more than a confession of our ignorance. Yet, if we
+admit in all men the existence of a natural sense of beauty, daily
+observation shows us that the pleasure arising from it is in most cases
+very feeble and evanescent. How many live in the midst of the most
+magnificent natural scenery, and never perceive its beauties until they
+are pointed out to them by some intelligent traveller! And often if
+admiration be professed, it is of that vague, undistinguishing kind, which
+indicates little knowledge of the causes why they admire. Even among men
+of cultivated tastes, there is much more of affected than real enthusiasm.
+
+If what we have said be true, it is a curious subject of inquiry why
+descriptive poetry has been so popular. How happens it that so many who
+have looked upon Nature herself with great indifference, have been so much
+delighted with the reflection of her image in the pages of the poets? We
+suspect, indeed, that a part of the popularity of this class of writers is
+factitious. THOMSON, the most popular, is we suspect oftener
+purchased than read; and his 'Seasons' are not unfrequently spoken of with
+admiration by those who know little of them but the episodes. The chief
+interest of the 'Task' is to be sought for in other sources than its
+descriptions, notwithstanding the _curiosa felicitas_ of Cowper's diction.
+
+The pleasure which we feel in reading descriptive poetry may perhaps in
+all cases be traced to one of the three following sources: the conception
+in our own minds of objects corresponding in a greater or less degree to
+those which exist in the mind of the poet; the train of associations which
+his language awakens; or the moral interest with which he invests what he
+describes. In the case first mentioned, the emotions we feel are similar
+to those which the sight of the objects themselves would produce; if
+beautiful, of pleasure; if terrible, of awe. A painting, which is an
+accurate representation of nature, regarded irrespective of the skill of
+the artist, would affect us in the same way. But the effects resulting
+from this cause are too inconsiderable to require particular mention. The
+picture which words are able to present is so indistinct and vague as
+rarely to produce any strong emotion. If the objects themselves are
+generally looked upon with indifference, much less can a verbal
+description of them afford us any great degree of pleasure.
+
+The language which the poet uses often suggests to the mind of the reader
+trains of thought and imagery which were never present to his own mind.
+Hence many expressions which are in themselves eminently poetic, will
+arouse associations, oftentimes, that entirely spoil the passage. On the
+other hand, an expression low and vulgar may be ennobled by its
+associations, and give dignity and force to the composition. We not
+unfrequently meet phrases which have great beauty in the eyes of one man,
+which seem flat and insipid in the eyes of another. Every writer who has
+attempted dignified or pathetic composition, has felt how difficult it is
+to avoid those words which will suggest ideas that are unworthy of the
+subject. If, however, the poet is sometimes a loser, he is also sometimes
+a gainer from this cause. The reader often finds in his own associations,
+sources of pleasure independent of the poet. The light that illumines the
+page is but the reflected radiance of his own thoughts, and is unseen by
+all save himself.
+
+But it is in the moral interest with which the poet invests the objects he
+describes, that the chief source of our pleasure is to be found. The poet
+paints Nature, not as she is, but as she seems. He adorns her with beauty
+not her own, and presents her thus adorned to men, to admire and to love.
+It is by interweaving human sympathies and feelings with the objects of
+the material world, that they lose their character of 'mute insensate
+things,' and acquire the power to charm and to soothe us, amidst all the
+cares and anxieties of our life. The intellectual process which here takes
+place is so interesting and important that we shall make no apology for
+treating the subject at some length.
+
+It is sufficiently obvious that an accurate description of nature, or a
+beautiful work of art, is not poetical. On the other hand, in proportion
+as the minuteness of the description is increased, the poetry vanishes.
+The traveller who should give us the exact dimensions of the pyramids, the
+precise height of the terraces, the width and height of the inner
+passages, would give us much more definite ideas of those structures than
+he who should paint to us the effects produced on his own mind by their
+vastness, their antiquity, and the solitude that surrounds them. So in
+descriptions of natural scenery, the geographer who gives us the
+measurement of mountains, and rivers, and plains, is much more accurate
+than he who describes them solely from the picture that exists in his
+fancy. We wish to be rightly understood. We do not mean that vagueness and
+generality are essential to poetical description. As on the one hand,
+mathematical accuracy, by allowing no play to the imagination, produces a
+feeble impression, so on the other the indistinctness arising from
+indefinite expressions is equally unfavorable. But in neither is the
+poetry of the description dependent on the greater or less degree of
+minuteness with which particular objects are spoken of. When Whitbread
+described the Phenix, according to Sheridan's version, 'like a poulterer;
+it was green, and red, and yellow, and blue; he did not let us off for a
+single feather,' he did not fail more egregiously than Thomson in the
+following lines, in which, by the force of language, a flock of geese are
+made highly poetical objects:
+
+ 'Hushed in short suspense
+ The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
+ To throw the lucid moisture trickling off,
+ And wait the approaching sign to strike at once
+ Into the general choir.'
+
+The poet indeed must give us a lively and definite image of the scene or
+object which he undertakes to describe. But how shall this be done? Simply
+by telling us how it appeared to him; introducing those circumstances
+which had the greatest effect on his own imagination. He looks on nature
+neither as a gardener, a geographer, an astronomer, nor a geologist, but
+as a man, susceptible of strong impressions, and able to describe clearly
+to others the objects which affected himself. This he will do in the style
+which the emotion raised within him naturally dictates. His imagery, his
+illustrations, his whole language, will take the hue of his own feelings.
+It is in describing accurately the effect, not the cause, the emotion, not
+the object which produced it, that the poet's fidelity to nature consists.
+Let us illustrate our meaning by two or three examples. In Thomson we find
+the following description of a thunder-storm:
+
+ 'A boding silence reigns
+ Dread through the dun expanse; save the dull sound
+ That from the mountain, previous to the storm,
+ Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood,
+ And shakes the forest leaf without a breath.
+ Prone to the lowest vale, the aerial tribes
+ Descend: the tempest-loving raven scarce
+ Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze
+ The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens
+ Cast a deploring eye, by man forsook,
+ Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast,
+ Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.
+ 'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all,
+ When to the startled eye the sudden glance
+ Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud
+ And following slower in explosion vast,
+ The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
+ At first heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven
+ The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes
+ And rolls its awful burthen on the wind,
+ The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
+ The noise astounds; till over head a sheet
+ Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts
+ And opens wider; shuts, and opens still
+ Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
+ Follows the loosened, aggravated roar,
+ Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
+ Crushed horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.'
+
+MR. IRVING describes a similar scene in the following terms: 'It
+was the latter part of a calm sultry day, that they floated quietly with
+the tide between these stern mountains. There was that perfect quiet which
+prevails over nature in the languor of summer heat; the turning of a
+plank, or the accidental falling of an oar on deck, was echoed from the
+mountain side, and reverberated along the shores. To the left the
+Dunderberg reared its woody precipices, height over height, forest over
+forest, away into the deep summer sky. To the right strutted forth the
+bold promontory of Antony's nose, with a solitary eagle wheeling about it;
+while beyond, mountain succeeded to mountain, until they seemed to lock
+their arms together, and confine this mighty river in their embraces. In
+the midst of his admiration, Dolph remarked a pile of bright snowy clouds
+peering above the western heights. It was succeeded by another and
+another, each seemingly pushing onward its predecessor, and towering with
+dazzling brilliancy in the deep blue atmosphere; and now muttering peals
+of thunder were faintly heard rolling behind the mountains. The river,
+hitherto still and glassy, reflecting pictures of the sky and land, now
+showed a dark ripple at a distance, as the breeze came creeping up it. The
+fish-hawks wheeled and screamed, and sought their nests on the high dry
+trees; the crows flew clamorously to the crevices of the rocks, and all
+nature seemed conscious of the approaching thunder gust. The clouds now
+rolled in volumes over the mountain tops; their summits still bright and
+snowy, but the lower parts of an inky blackness. The rain began to patter
+down in broad and scattered drops; the winds freshened, and curled up the
+waves; at length it seemed as if the bellying clouds were torn open by the
+mountain tops, and complete torrents of rain came rattling down. The
+lightning leaped from cloud to cloud, and streamed quivering against the
+rocks, splitting and rending the stoutest forest trees; the thunder burst
+in tremendous explosions; the peals were echoed from mountain to mountain;
+they clashed upon Dunderberg, and then rolled up the long defile of the
+Highlands, each headland waking a new echo, until old Bull Hill seemed to
+bellow back the storm.'
+
+We think that no one who attentively reads the foregoing extracts can fail
+to see the infinite superiority of the latter over the former, in every
+thing that pertains to a faithful representation of nature. Irving has
+given us the scene just as he saw it, unmixed with any hue or coloring
+with which the mood of his own mind might have invested it. We see the
+objects themselves, disconnected from the associations of the spectator.
+Had there been a thousand persons looking on, each would have heard the
+same sounds, and seen the same sights. There is nothing that is
+extraneous. He has given us an exact copy of his original, and nothing
+more. Thomson, on the contrary, has not described a thunderstorm as he saw
+it, but according to the effect that it produced on his own mind. His
+epithets are rarely descriptive of the qualities that exist in the objects
+to which they are applied. They have reference rather to the emotions
+which their presence produces in himself. Thus, in the first line,
+'boding' is not a quality that can be predicated of silence. To the
+feeling that the silence preceding a storm is wont to excite, the epithet
+is properly enough applied. So with the expression 'dubious dusk.'
+
+In connection with these extracts, we will look at one taken from
+SCOTT'S description of the scenery around Loch Katrine:
+
+ 'Boon nature scattered free and wild,
+ Each plant, or flower, the mountain's child;
+ Here eglantine embalmed the air,
+ Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;
+ The primrose pale, and violet flower,
+ Found in each cleft a narrow bower;
+ Foxglove and night-shade, side by side
+ Emblems of punishment and pride,
+ Grouped their dark hues with every stain
+ The weather-beaten crags retain;
+ With boughs that quaked at every breath,
+ Gray-birch and aspen wept beneath;
+ Aloft the ash and warrior oak
+ Cast anchor in the rifted rock;
+ And higher yet the pine tree hung
+ His scattered trunk, and frequent flung
+ Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high
+ His boughs athwart the narrowed sky.
+ Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,
+ Where glistening streamers waved and danced,
+ The wanderer's eye could barely view
+ The summer heaven's delicious blue.'
+
+The same remarks which we applied to Irving are applicable with some
+little restriction here. With one or two exceptions, the epithets mark
+attributes that exist in the subjects. Every one can see at a glance the
+appropriateness of such terms as _pale_ primrose, _gray_ birch, and
+_narrow_ bower. They are not dependent for their effect upon any fanciful
+train of associations which their names may excite.
+
+If we compare the above extracts together, we arrive at certain results
+which we shall briefly state. We will throw out of view for a moment any
+pleasure which the rhythm may give us, as foreign to our present purpose.
+Each of these writers is describing a scene from nature. Each of them has
+the same object, to interest others by a representation of those sights
+and sounds that interested themselves. Scott accomplishes his purpose by
+presenting as exact a picture of nature as it is possible perhaps for
+words to give. He does not tell us how he is affected by what he sees, and
+looks upon neither directly nor indirectly. He does not search for any
+resemblances that are not palpable, and founded in the nature of things.
+All similes and metaphors which serve to express his own emotions are
+carefully avoided. The whole is picturesque and life-like in the highest
+degree, yet every circumstance is mentioned in the cool, unimpassioned way
+in which we mention any common occurrence.
+
+Thomson accomplishes his purpose by portraying his own feelings; not
+indeed in so many words, but by the use of those expressions, and by those
+transitions of thought, which mark a state of emotion. The epithet
+'boding,' to which we have referred, is an example. It is an indirect
+disclosure of the mood of his own mind. At another time it is not
+improbable that an epithet of a directly opposite meaning would have been
+selected. The reader is affected by it, because by a law of sympathy, we
+are affected by whatever reveals the presence of passion in another. It
+influences us precisely as the tones of the voice of a person in distress
+influence us. Both are expressive of emotion, and we cannot remain
+unaffected by them.
+
+This is the main source of the pleasure we feel in reading Thomson's
+description. It conveys to us but a very indistinct idea of the subject
+matter. Different readers, according to their mental peculiarities, will
+be differently affected by it. He does not paint to the bodily eye, but to
+the eye of the mind; and he will feel most pleasure who puts himself in
+the same position as the poet, and sees with his eyes and hears with his
+ears. Unless he can do this, he will derive but little gratification from
+the perusal.
+
+Less minute than Irving, and more picturesque than Thomson, Scott will
+probably to most readers give more pleasure than either of them. In
+conveying lively impressions of natural objects he is unsurpassed, but he
+is scarcely less successful in inspiring the mind of the reader with the
+same emotions that fill his own breast. There is ever between the thought
+and its expression a perfect harmony. It is only when agitated by passion
+that he uses the _language_ of passion. Hence we never find that timid
+phraseology which so often disgusts us in Thomson; _vox et praeterea
+nihil_. No one delights more in the use of figurative language, nor
+employs metaphors that more appropriately convey the sentiment that
+pervades his mind. In the passage we have quoted are the following lines:
+
+ 'Aloft the ash and warrior oak
+ Cast anchor in the rifted rock.'
+
+The poet looking up at the trees firmly rooted in the rifts of the rock,
+defying the tempest and storm, felt an emotion of pleasure which the sight
+of their lofty position, and the apparent danger of their being hurled
+headlong at the first blast of wind, contrasted with the sense of their
+real security, produced. To express this pleasurable emotion, he fastens
+upon the resemblance between a root of the tree and an anchor; a
+resemblance not between the things themselves, but between their uses.
+Neglecting all the points of difference, and confining his attention to
+this single point of similarity, he presents an image which all admit to
+be highly forcible and poetical.
+
+The great merit of all descriptive poetry consists in the unity of feeling
+which pervades it. Unlike the epic, or the drama, it has none of the
+interest which arises from a connected narrative, or the development of
+individual character in reference to a certain end. The poet confines
+himself to the expression of those feelings which are awakened by the
+sight of the beauty and sublimity of nature. Passing, as he necessarily
+must, from one object to another, each fitted to excite in his bosom
+conflicting emotions, his attention is so much diverted, that none of them
+produces upon him its legitimate effect. There is wanting some central
+object of interest to which all others are subordinate. Hence is explained
+the listlessness of which every one is conscious in the continuous perusal
+of the Seasons. We find the greatest pleasure by reading a page here and a
+page there, according to the state of our feelings.
+
+It is never in short poems that the descriptive poets succeed best.
+L'Allegro and Le Penseroso are gems; but all Milton's genius could not
+have made the Paradise Lost readable, were it deprived of its unity as an
+epic, and broken up into a series of detached pictures. The Deserted
+Village of Goldsmith is the longest poem of this class that we now
+remember, having all its parts so pervaded by a common spirit that a
+succession of new objects does not impair the designed effect. Sweet
+Auburn as it was in its palmy days, and as it is in its desolation,
+presents two distinct pictures, yet so closely connected that each
+heightens the effect of the other by the contrast. Nothing can exceed the
+exquisite art with which Goldsmith has seized upon those circumstances
+that tend to make the desired impression, and rejected all others. How
+perfect are each of the following descriptions, and how much would their
+beauty be marred by the transfer of a single circumstance from one to the
+other:
+
+ 'How often have I paused on every charm,
+ The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm;
+ The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
+ The decent church that topped the neighb'ring hill;
+ The hawthorn-bush with seats beneath the shade,
+ For talking age and whispering lovers made.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'The dancing pair that simply sought renown,
+ By holding out to tire each other down;
+ The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,
+ While secret laughter tittered round the place;
+ The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,
+ The matron's glance, that would those looks reprove.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
+ But choked with sedges works its weedy way;
+ Along thy glade, a solitary guest,
+ The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;
+ Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
+ And tires the echoes with unvaried cries;
+ Sunk are thy bowers, in shapeless ruin all,
+ And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall.'
+
+It is by the selection of such objects as have in themselves no common
+bond of union, but which combine to raise a certain emotion, that the
+essential distinction is to be found between the descriptions of the poet
+and the prose-writer. The latter joins objects together as they are joined
+in nature, following a principle of association which is simple and
+obvious. His resemblances are usually such as are cognizable by the
+senses; a likeness in the sensible qualities of things. The poet's
+principle of association is in the effect produced on his imagination.
+Things which have not in themselves a single point of similarity, are
+connected together, because they produce the same emotions of pleasure, or
+pain, or hope, or melancholy. A beautiful illustration of this is found in
+the opening stanzas of Gray's Elegy:
+
+ 'The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
+ The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
+ The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
+ And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
+
+ Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
+ And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
+ Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
+ And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.'
+
+A summer evening in the country is associated in most minds with images of
+mirth and joy. Thus Goldsmith has described it:
+
+ 'Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close,
+ Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;
+ There as I passed with careless steps, and slow,
+ The mingling notes came softened from below;
+ The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung,
+ The sober herd that lowed to meet their young;
+ The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool,
+ The playful children just let loose from school,
+ The watch-dog's voice, that bayed the whisp'ring wind,
+ And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.'
+
+With what consummate skill, if indeed it be not rather the instinct of the
+poet, has Gray avoided all mention of those objects which might awaken
+associations discordant with the mood of his own mind! Each epithet is
+full of a plaintive melancholy. There is not one that does not contribute
+something to the effect; not one that can be omitted; not one that can be
+altered for the better. Yet there is scarcely one that is descriptive of
+any quality actually existing in its subject. The fitness of each is to be
+felt rather than seen.
+
+In the selection of those circumstances and objects which Gray has
+enumerated, he was governed by the effect which each had upon his own
+feelings. He looked upon nature in the reflected light of his own heart.
+He was mournful in view of the destiny of man; and wandering amidst the
+graves of the lowly and obscure, he saw all the external world colored
+with the hue of his own sad thoughts. The melancholy spirit within him
+transformed all things without into its own likeness. His imagination,
+darting hither and thither, and governed in its flight by laws too subtle
+and delicate to be analyzed, reposed itself for a moment amidst the gloom
+of the historical associations that cluster around the curfew, hovered
+over the lowing herd, and followed the ploughman as he homeward plods his
+weary way. Goldsmith, recalling the scenes where he had spent many happy
+hours, looks upon nature under a far different aspect. Every thing to him
+is gay and joyous. He hears not the hollow tones of the curfew, nor the
+drowsy tinklings that lull the distant folds. He sees not the wearied
+ploughman, caring for nought but to forget his toils in the sweet oblivion
+of sleep. He hears but the song of the milk-maid, and the soft response of
+her rustic lover; the watchdog's voice, and the loud laugh of the happy
+idlers. He sees but the children just escaped from school, running and
+leaping, and romping in their innocent glee. Happy himself, he fastens
+upon whatever in nature around him seems to sympathise with him, and
+dwelling fondly upon it, casts away from his thoughts every thing that can
+obstruct the full, free flow of his joyous emotions.
+
+We may remark in passing, what has probably been before remarked by the
+attentive reader, that both Gray and Goldsmith, excited as they are by
+different passions, refer to the 'lowing herd' as raising on the one hand
+a cheerful, and on the other a melancholy feeling. To our thought, the
+associations connected with the return of the herds from the fields at
+sunset are best fitted to awaken that quiet, reflective state of mind
+which is most congenial to the mood of the elegiac poet. To another, these
+associations may be of such a character as to produce a directly opposite
+effect.
+
+The writer of prose who should describe scenes like these, would aim to
+give us a distinct and accurate picture by presenting all their prominent
+features, omitting nothing, and grouping them as Nature herself had
+grouped them. Such descriptions we daily see in all books of voyages and
+travels. Or if the descriptions be of scenes wholly imaginary, their
+essential character is not changed. Although they cease to be real, they
+do not become poetical. The extract which we have made from Irving is not
+poetical. Accurate, vivid, life-like, it is. We cannot read it without a
+feeling of pleasure. We admire the genius of the writer; we wonder at the
+magnificence of the spectacle which, by a few masterly touches, he has
+raised up before us. But there is no more poetry in it than in his
+description of Herr Van Tassel's supper table, covered with all the
+luxuries of Dutch housewifery. It is true, there may be more of beauty and
+sublimity in the scenery of the Hudson, in the gathering clouds and
+muttering thunder, than in the sight of dough-nuts and crullers,
+sweet-cakes and short-cakes, peach pies and pumpkin pies, slices of ham
+and slices of smoked beef; yet the spirit of poetry exists no more in the
+one than in the other. Poetry has its abode in the _heart_ of man; not in
+the winds, in the clouds, in the mountains, or in the vales. It does not
+derive its power from the outward world, but breathes into it its own
+breath of life, investing the earth with a beauty which has no existence
+but in the human soul, and filling the air with sweet harmonies, which are
+unheard save by the inspired ear of the poet.
+
+We have now, we think, sufficiently answered the question, why so many who
+read descriptive poetry with pleasure, look with indifference upon what is
+beautiful or sublime in nature. The poet is to them like one who gives
+sight to the blind. The landscape which formerly lay before their eyes
+unregarded, almost unseen, is now 'beautiful exceedingly.' Nature has not
+changed; they themselves have not changed; yet there _is_ a change. There
+is a glory unseen before, cast over the earth. It is, as it were,
+transfigured before them, and made radiant with celestial light. This is
+the poet's work. With a keener perception of the beautiful and sublime
+than other men; with a greater facility of association, and with the power
+to give to language the hue and intensity of his own feelings, he clothes
+lifeless nature with the attributes of humanity, making it instinct with
+human sentiment and passion. Like Burns, he pours forth his lament over
+the mountain-daisy cut down in its bloom, in a few simple words that find
+a response in the hearts of all men; and henceforth it is embalmed in our
+memories, and shall be as immortal as the star that shines in the far
+depths of the heavens. Like Wordsworth, he wanders upon the banks of his
+native lakes, and mingles his song with the noise of their waters, until
+the faintest whisper of the rippling waves seems but the echo of his
+voice. Wherever he goes fruits, flowers, and herbage spring up in his
+footsteps. A divine Presence goes with him; Nature speaks to him with her
+thousand voices, and he hears, and answers, making sweet music in the joy
+of his heart. Nothing is so inconsiderable as to be without the pale of
+his sympathy; nothing too humble to stir the fountains of love in his
+breast. The solitary flower that blossoms by the way-side, the rivulet far
+away amid the hills, is but the starting point of that wondrous chain of
+thick-coming fancies, that fill his eyes with light, and his ear with
+harmony; as if multitudes of angels were hovering around, and he heard on
+every side the rustling of their wings.
+
+Such are the gifts of the poet. They are God's gifts, and are indeed
+'wonderful in our eyes.'
+
+
+
+
+VICISSITUDES.
+
+
+ Hast thou not been where wild winds, freshly blowing,
+ Brought odorous gladness on each passing gale;
+ Hast thou not been where the pure streamlet flowing,
+ In each soft murmur told a gentle tale:
+
+ As the bright flashing of its gushing water,
+ Glad as the tones of merriment and glee
+ That joyous burst from children in their laughter,
+ Swift dashes onward to the boundless sea?
+
+ Hast thou not been where the enamelled mead
+ Its beauty gave to the enraptured sense,
+ And the crushed lily, from the elastic tread,
+ Yielded its life in breath of sweets intense?
+
+ Hast thou not been in spring-time's early hours,
+ Where the lone bird its short sweet carol gave
+ To the young bursting leaves and budding flowers,
+ Beside some wildly-rushing mountain wave?
+
+ Not such the lay it sings in summer hours,
+ When love beats high within its little breast,
+ And its exulting song it joyous pours,
+ Where thick embowering leaves conceal its nest.
+
+ Hast thou not marked, when autumn's gorgeous glory
+ Fled in the rushing of the hurrying blast,
+ The deep'ning pathos of the moral story
+ Sighed in each cadence, as it onward passed.
+
+ Hast thou not heard the ancient forests, bending
+ To the far sweeping of the mighty wind,
+ Send forth a solemn sound, as though responding
+ To voices deep that secret powers unbind?
+
+ Hast thou not stood where ocean madly raging,
+ Rolled onward as with overmastering shock:
+ 'Till hushed the storm, the chafed surge assuaging,
+ It gently laved the firm-opposing rock?
+
+ Hast thou not gleaned a lesson to thy reason
+ From winter's fostering power and spring's awakening reign;
+ Summer's brief heat, autumn's maturing season,
+ And learned vicissitudes are not in vain?
+
+ But from the varied page outspread before thee,
+ Garner'd of wisdom for thy fleeting days,
+ Whether the sunshine or the storm be o'er thee,
+ Forward to look with hope, and trust, and praise?
+
+_Newport, Rhode-Island, Dec., 1843._ E. R. G. H.
+
+
+
+
+THE IDLEBERG PAPERS.
+
+A CHRISTMAS YARN.
+
+
+At Christmas every body is or should be happy. The genial influence of the
+season lightens alike the lofty hall and the lowly cottage. It is the same
+at home or abroad, on the land or the billow, in royal purple or in ragged
+poverty; here and every where, to one and to all, it is always 'merrie
+Christmas.' At such a time there is an obligation due from every man to
+society, to be happy, and the more cheerfully it is paid, the better. The
+man who would be found scowling and glowering like a thunder-cloud,
+cherishing his private griefs or animosities at a time when every other
+countenance is glowing with light, and hope, and sunshine, should be
+denied all the charities of humanity, and exiled to Kamschatka, or some
+other inhospitable clime, to growl and fret with the wild beasts, or the
+wilder elements.
+
+How dear is the light of home when glowing with the fires of Christmas!
+What though the elements be wild without, or Jack Frost blow his whistling
+pipe at the door, or fierce winds rumble down the chimney, and tell of
+sweeping gusts and howling storms abroad, if within and around that
+charmed circle is breathed the spirit of kindness and affection! Should
+the titled stranger or the ragged beggar knock, throw wide open the doors
+of thy hospitality; and while prattling infants recount the joys of the
+season, and school-boy striplings pursue their holiday sports, and
+gray-haired men who have traversed the wide world over, tell how in all
+their wanderings they have never passed a Christmas from home; he will
+turn his thoughts with a melancholy pleasure to the distant fireside
+beyond the sea, and to the friends who are gathered there, and wonder
+where the wanderer is spending his Christmas.
+
+With all respect for the ancient and honorable class of 'old bachelors,'
+whose sympathy and good fellowship we most earnestly desire, be it said,
+that if to any it is allowed to be miserable at Christmas, it surely is to
+them. We would not for the world say aught to heighten the sad picture of
+their social desolation, by dwelling on the thousand tender endearments of
+home, the ten thousand cords of love, of which they know nothing. Certain
+it is, that to many of them 'merrie Christmas' brings only pangs of
+remorse; and we have known more than one crusty member of the fraternity,
+who on such occasions would rush incontinently from the scene and the
+sound of merriment, and shut themselves under lock and key, until the
+storm was passed, and people have recovered their lost senses.
+
+Such an one, however, we are proud to say, was _not_ TOM HARDESTY, though
+bachelor he was, in the superlative degree. Every body wondered how he
+managed to preserve his good-humor and vivacity under the frosts of
+three-score winters. At the period of this authentic history, Tom was the
+village grocer; a station he had filled to his own profit and the town's
+convenience until he had become a piece of village furniture, necessary to
+its existence as a corporation. His little store, with its great variety
+of commodities, adapted to every human want, was in itself a perfect
+'curiosity-shop.' Odd-looking boxes, kegs, chests, casks, barrels and
+hogsheads, contained his groceries, drugs and dye-stuffs. A few remnants
+of domestic prints and muslins, together with stray fragments of
+broadcloth, constituted his stock of dry-goods. Then there was a modicum
+of hardware and cutlery; a few spelling-books and new testaments for a
+book store; and sundry jars and bottles filled with fancy-colored powders
+and liquids, for an apothecary shop. His remaining list of commodities was
+made up of hats, caps and bonnets, boots and shoes, tin-pans and
+looking-glasses, slate-pencils and sifters; and as his standing
+advertisement in the village newspaper duly notified the public, 'other
+articles too numerous to mention--call and see for yourselves.' If any
+body desired an article nobody ever heard of before, he could find a large
+lot thereof at Tom Hardesty's; and if any lucky or ingenious wight had
+found or made any thing that nobody else would have as a gracious gift,
+let him call on Mr. Hardesty, and it was the very thing he wanted. In a
+word, his shop was a grand depot for every article the ingenuity of man
+could devise, or his necessities require.
+
+What a blessed convenience was Tom Hardesty! How could we have gotten
+along without him? How honest and affable! What long ells and heavy pounds
+he gave! And then his tea! how it inspired the village gossip on long
+winter nights in a chimney corner! All the matrons of the village were
+quite in love with Tom, or his tea; and many an old crone, as she sat
+inhaling cup after cup of the divine beverage, has been known to pause in
+the midst of her inspirations, and exclaim with uplifted hands, 'God bless
+Tom Hardesty!'
+
+And yet Tom Hardesty was a bachelor, and kept 'bachelor's hall.' The only
+members of his mess were an orphan boy of his adoption, who waited in the
+store, and a brindle cat which the master had honored with his own name.
+This point, however, is still wrapt in obscurity, for Tom and 'Tom' were
+both so venerable that nobody could swear whether the cat had been named
+after the master, or the master after the cat. It had been rumored by
+those who should know, that Mr. Hardesty should not be held strictly
+accountable for this sin of celibacy, since he had offered his hand, his
+heart, and a partnership in his worldly goods, to more than one village
+beauty, each of whom had found it impossible to 'love for antiquity's
+sake,' and rejected his matrimonial offers accordingly. Still Tom never
+repined. His daily experience behind the counter had taught him the useful
+lesson, that each applicant does not necessarily always drive a trade, and
+the commodity which one rejects may be eagerly sought by another; and
+acting on the faith of this philosophy, he lived cheerfully on, cherishing
+the hope that even yet some fond heart would beat responsive to his own,
+and promise before the competent authority, to 'love, honor and obey' him,
+Tom Hardesty.
+
+On a memorable Christmas-eve we enter his little counting-room. A cheerful
+fire blazes on the hearth; and at the moment grimalkin is purring on the
+rug. Master John, the adopted, is poring over a picture-book, probably an
+early edition of Peter Parley's Travels, and Mr. Hardesty is standing
+before a broken fragment of looking-glass, diligently brushing his scanty
+locks.
+
+'John!' said Mr. Hardesty, turning from the mirror, and looking full at
+the boy, 'do I look very old to-night?'
+
+The boy turned up his innocent face, gazed steadily on his master from top
+to toe, and answered, 'Sir!'
+
+'Do I look very _old_ to-night, John?'
+
+John scratched his head. 'Not much older than you did this time last
+night, Sir.'
+
+'Humph!' said Mr. Hardesty, appealing to the glass, and renewing his
+efforts with the brush, while John resumed his reading.
+
+'But, John,' resumed Mr. Hardesty, seating himself beside the boy, 'do you
+really think that a middle-aged lady, of right comfortable property, would
+have, _could_ have, any rational objection to be called Mrs. Hardesty?'
+
+'I think not, Sir,' replied John, taking up the cat; 'I'm sure you have
+been very kind to me and old Tom here, and I know you would be so to her.'
+
+'Very true, John,' said Mr. Hardesty, whose feelings were touched by this
+expression of the boy's gratitude; 'but I wish to extend the sphere of my
+usefulness; and I may venture to hope--but don't mention it--that in the
+course of three or four years, or may-be a little longer, there'll be a
+little boy at our house for you to play with; and if it's a girl, John,
+you shall marry her when you get old enough. Eh, John! how would you like
+_that_?' And the old gentleman chuckled himself into a fit of coughing
+that seemed to threaten his longevity, and prevented John's reply to a
+suggestion that had never occurred to him as being within the bounds of
+the most remote possibility.
+
+Having amused himself sufficiently with these flights of his fancy, Mr.
+Hardesty rose from his seat, gave John eighteen-pence for Christmas-money,
+stroked his namesake's back, put on his cloak and cap, and after bidding
+John be a good boy, and not to mention it, and to take care of the fire
+till he came back, left the house on his errand of love.
+
+Christmas eve! Surely the village streets were never so gay before! You
+may know there is a moon, for though the sky is darkened with clouds, and
+the snow is falling as it never fell before, there is a glow of light
+above and around, that would burst on the eye like dim revealings of
+fairy-land, but for the mist that floats through the dim upper air, and
+seems striving to bind the earth as with a mantle.
+
+What a merry, merry Christmas! Gust after gust comes whirling on,
+full-freighted with the virgin snow. There are shouts of revelry that rise
+and fall with the sound of the blast. There are hurried footsteps that
+glide over the crackling snow. There are merry hearts within those
+bounding sleighs, and hands that clasp the hands they love, though wrapped
+in countless furs and muffs. Gay steeds dash on with steaming nostrils, as
+if their toil were sport; and their bells, as they ring cheerily out in
+the sombre night, give promise of marriage-bells to come.
+
+Through all this busy scene Tom Hardesty pressed on, turning neither to
+the right nor left, except when he turned a corner. As the wind dashed the
+driving snow in his face, he drew his cloak more closely around him, and,
+shivering, passed on with cheerful thoughts of love and matrimony.
+Sometimes the boys pelted him with their snowy artillery, or old
+acquaintances inquired after his health, but he glided on like a dim
+shadow, heedless alike of all. By degrees the holiday din of the village
+waxed faint in his ears, and as he approached the suburbs, his heart beat
+fast while his steps were slow with indecision, for he was approaching the
+end of his pilgrimage--the dwelling of Miss Peggy Sidebottom.
+
+While Mr. Hardesty is pausing at the door, stamping the snow from his
+feet, and making the accustomed use of his pocket-handkerchief, we will
+take advantage of his delay to state, briefly, that Miss Sidebottom,
+beside being sole proprietress of the cottage-like mansion aforesaid,
+claimed also among her chattels sundry shares in bank, and certain notes
+of hand, yielding her sufficient income, without calculating the value of
+her personal charms, to make her hand and heart two very desirable items
+of furniture in a bachelor's apartments. Her household consisted of
+herself, and a nephew and niece, christened Dick and Belinda, orphan
+children of a deceased brother. Dick was a wild, rattling scape-grace, as
+ever robbed hen-roost or melon-patch; Belinda was nothing, particularly,
+except a little, quiet, blue-eyed girl, the pride of her aunt, and a
+pattern of propriety to all little girls. That Miss Sidebottom was kind
+and motherly to the two orphans, there is no question; but it was rumored
+that in consideration thereof she enjoyed a comfortable legacy. It is only
+necessary to premise, farther, that Miss Sidebottom had been younger by
+some two-score years than she was that night; that she was one of Mr.
+Hardesty's best customers; and that after long worshipping her across the
+counter, he had suddenly determined to declare his passion with all the
+eloquence he possessed; which was not inconsiderable, as many can bear
+witness.
+
+Mr. Hardesty knocks and is admitted to the hall. Another door is opened,
+and there, in the snuggest corner, and by the snuggest fire conceivable,
+sits Miss Sidebottom. The opposite end of the hearth is decorated by
+Belinda, while a cat is sleeping on the rug between them. It was a picture
+of quiet happiness that touched Mr. Hardesty's heart; and advancing into
+the room, he bows with all the elegance of a Beau Brummel.
+
+Miss Sidebottom turned her eyes upon the new-comer, and as they fell on
+the familiar and smiling countenance of the grocer, she sprang to her
+feet, and exclaimed: 'Why, Mr. Hardesty! I am so glad to see you! Let me
+have your cloak and cap, Sir. Come, be seated; draw near the fire.'
+
+Mr. Hardesty kept bowing all this time with as much nobility as was
+displayed by the famous stick that was too crooked to lie still; and after
+grasping Belinda's hand very affectionately, he seated himself, and drew
+near the fire.
+
+'Dear me! what a night!' said Miss Sidebottom; 'ain't it cold out, Mr.
+Hardesty?'
+
+Mr. Hardesty replied by shivering palpably, and said he had seen colder,
+and he had seen warmer, but it would do. Having said thus much, he
+produced his snuff-box, which he extended to the ladies, and then helped
+himself.
+
+'I am truly glad, Miss Peggy,' continued Tom. 'to see you situated so
+comfortably--I am.' And he smiled tenderly and shifted his chair; but in
+doing so, he infringed on the cat's tail, and the animal, as cats are wont
+to do, squalled vehemently. Mr. Hardesty bounded from his seat.
+
+'Dear me!' exclaimed Miss Sidebotton, 'don't do that!'
+
+'Positively, Madam,' said Tom, 'I am very sorry, indeed--I am!'
+
+'Poor thing!' said Belinda, taking the injured quadruped in her arms;
+'poor thing!--did he hurt its tail?'
+
+''Deed, Madam,' said Mr. Hardesty, stroking the animal's back, 'I wouldn't
+have done that for forty ordinary cats. I may say, Madam, speaking
+metaphorically, that your cat is of the short-horn Durham stock, and
+wasn't made to be trod on.'
+
+'Lor', Sir,' replied Miss Sidebottom, adjusting her cap, 'cats is cats,
+and cattle is cattle--that's my sentiments; but as I was going to say, Mr.
+Hardesty, I was telling Mrs. Jenkins to-night, not an hour ago, that I
+felt a kind of nervous kind of feeling that somebody was coming; and sure
+enough, here comes you. You see, Mrs. Jenkins was here to take tea with me
+to-night, and beside the baby, why her little Jack and Sally and Bill and
+Susan _would_ come, because, they said, pap wasn't at home, and they would
+starve if they staid there. And here, sure enough, come they did, before
+Mrs. Jenkins had fairly pulled off her bonnet; and stay they would, though
+she boxed 'em well; but they didn't mind that, and I told her Christmas
+come but once a year, and as it turned out, the poor things _were_ hungry,
+in yearnest. And you never see children eat so; I do believe they hadn't
+had a good meal for a fortnight. Well, we hadn't got fairly seated after
+supper, when rap! rap! at the door, and there was Jake Crow had come for
+Mrs. Jenkins; for Jenkins had got into a drunken row, and had his head cut
+with a stick. And you never hearn sich a fuss; and Mrs. Jenkins and the
+little brats went home crying all the way; and here me and Belinda have
+been by ourselves ever since. But poor Mrs. Jenkins! I wonder men will get
+drunk and leave their wives and children to starve. _You_ never get drunk,
+Mr. Hardesty, do you?'
+
+'Drunk! Madam, drunk!' said Mr. Hardesty, placing his hand over his heart,
+and shaking his head emphatically. 'No, Madam; I only get what you may
+call intoxicated, and not with liquor neither; and I feel it coming on me
+now--I do indeed!'
+
+'Well, well!' replies Mrs. Sidebottom, holding up her hands in utter
+astonishment, 'I never heard tell of the like of that before. P'raps its
+the cold, Mr. Hardesty.'
+
+'No, Madam,' persisted the old gentleman; 'it's the heat.'
+
+'Dear me! Mr. Hardesty; then I'll open the door.' And Miss Peggy started
+to her feet.
+
+'No, my dear Madam, don't, if you please. It ain't this here fire in the
+hearth, but,' striking his breast passionately, 'it's _here_, Madam.'
+
+'That's just where Mrs. Jenkins is affected sometimes, and she says
+Madeira's the best thing for it; and she has drank nearly all that last
+quart I got of you, Mr. Hardesty, and I don't see as she gets any better.'
+
+'Madeira, indeed!' said old Tom, scornfully. 'Madeira, madam, instead of
+squenching, would only add fuel to the flame that is consuming me. There
+_are_ men as takes to the bottle for it when they despair; but bless your
+soul!' he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper, 'I haven't
+despaired.'
+
+At this eloquent appeal, Mrs. Sidebottom looked at the fire and said
+nothing, until an audible snore from Belinda, who had fallen asleep in her
+chair, aroused her.
+
+'Bless me!' exclaimed Miss Peggy, bouncing to her feet; 'look at the child
+there! Belinda dear, wake up. Poor dear thing! you had better go up stairs
+to bed.' And rubbing her eyes, the child took up a lighted candle, bowed
+politely to Mr. Hardesty, and disappeared behind the stair-door.
+
+Miss Sidebottom resumed her seat and looked again at the fire, and Mr.
+Hardesty looked at Miss Sidebottom. Presently, that amiable lady turned
+her gaze, lighted as it was by an equivocal smile, full upon Tom. In the
+space of about fifteen seconds, after trying in vain to interpret that
+smile to his own satisfaction, Mr. Hardesty quailed, while his heart
+commenced vibrating against his ribs, as though it would burst their
+feeble barrier, and take refuge in his waistcoat-pocket. Miss Sidebottom,
+however, showed no such symptoms of alarm, and her courage rose as Tom's
+fell. By the way, composure in such delicate epochs is like see-sawing;
+one ascends as the other descends, until perchance the weaker party fails
+to recover his equilibrium, and tumbles off the fence. Diffident young
+courtiers should remember this.
+
+Mr. Hardesty was bewildered beyond endurance. How could a man speak more
+plainly? And yet he would try once more.
+
+'Let me tell you, my dear Miss Sidebottom, once for all, I'm----'
+
+There was a noise of some one opening the front door, and as Mr. Hardesty
+turned his head, Dick entered the room.
+
+'Why, Dicky, where have you been this cold night?' asked his aunt.
+
+Dicky replied that he had been snow-balling, of which there were
+sufficient marks on his person. His countenance was flushed and heated,
+and he proceeded to say that he was tired, and wanted to go to bed.
+
+At this Mr. Hardesty rose deliberately from his seat, saying it was time
+to go.
+
+'But, Mr. Hardesty,' urged Miss Peggy, 'it's cold and snowing; stay all
+night there with Dicky,' pointing to a comfortable bed in one corner. 'I
+know you are delicate, and it's snowing hard. I'll go and see. Here
+Dicky,' and she left the room followed by Dick. Mr. Hardesty looked around
+at the comfortable quarters offered him, and determined to remain.
+Scarcely had he come to this decision, when the affectionate aunt and
+nephew returned, the former telling him not to think of going out on such
+a night, and the latter assuring him it was snowing 'like sixty.'
+
+'I'll stay, Madam, and thank'ee too,' said Mr. Hardesty, re-seating
+himself. Miss Peggy bade her guest a very good night, and, threatening to
+catch him for a Christmas gift next morning, disappeared up the stairs and
+locked the door after her. Tom watched her retreating figure until she
+disappeared, and then addressed himself to the boy.
+
+'Been snow-balling to-night, eh, Dicky? Fine sport, Dicky; fine sport.'
+
+'I should say it was, Sir, when your side toes the mark and don't run,'
+said Dick, placing his damp shoes on the hearth. 'Them shoes'll never run
+away with _my_ feet in 'em, certain.'
+
+'Well, Dicky,' continued Mr. Hardesty, stirring the fire, 'you're a brave
+boy.'
+
+'Yes, Sir,' said Dick, 'braver than you think for. Catch me napping when
+there's work to do, and I am to get a pie for it in the bargain, will
+you?' The bare suggestion amused Dick, and as he divested himself of his
+damp clothes, he laughed heartily.
+
+'That's just what I was saying, Dicky, and was going on to add, that
+snow-balling and such like ain't for me now, but the time was when none
+was better at them than I.'
+
+'P'raps not,' said Dick, 'but as I'm rather tired, and don't mind the
+cold, I'll get in and warm the bed, and you can come along when you like;'
+and the light-hearted boy sprang into his nest, and in less than five
+minutes was snoring audibly.
+
+Mr. Hardesty stirred the fire, and as the myriad sparks flew up the
+chimney, he wished he had just so many dollars; he would give them all if
+_she_ would but love him. Growing weary of this delusive sport, he looked
+at his watch, compared it with Miss Sidebottom's yankee clock, and finding
+his own time-piece was just five minutes the faster, concluded that both
+were wrong just two minutes and a half, and he would split the difference.
+He might be mistaken, but if he was he would consult the town clock
+to-morrow.
+
+Mr. Hardesty resumed the poker and stirred the fire until its bright blaze
+threw a broad glare over the chamber; and out of the glowing coals he
+built strange towers and castles, and saw them change by turns into ashes,
+and grow dim like his own recent dreams of love. This being a melancholy
+contemplation, he lent his ear to a solitary cricket that was cheerily
+singing its household song, though the winds were wild without. Presently
+the cricket ceased its chirrup, and Mr. Hardesty growing tired of sitting,
+yawned, stretched himself, and walked to the window.
+
+Outside, the ground was covered with a wild waste of snow, and the heavy
+flakes were still falling. Suddenly it occurred to him that somebody might
+accidentally pass that way and recognize him; so he let fall the curtain
+and walked across the room. Here, lifting his eyes from the floor, a
+looking-glass stared him in the face, and he started back. He turned again
+and walked to the bed-side where Dick was sleeping. The boy, he thought,
+might one day be his nephew, and he revolved in his mind a thousand
+schemes for advancing him in the world and making him a clever fellow.
+
+Mr. Hardesty left the bed-side and looked up at the ceiling. Beyond that,
+he thought, was the adored Miss Sidebottom. What a narrow space sundered
+them! He walked to the fire-place and looked on the mantel for a book. He
+selected an old copy of Burns, and opened at the pathetic ballad of 'John
+Anderson.' Mr. Hardesty sat down and read it once aloud. Then he read it
+to himself over and over again, until he had gotten it by heart. And then
+by degrees the room swam dizzily before him, the fire glowed like a pale
+meteor, his eyes closed heavily, the open book fell from his hand, and Mr.
+Hardesty was asleep.
+
+He slept and dreamed. Smiles like those of sleeping infancy stole over his
+venerable features. In one short moment he was the happiest man alive; his
+love had been crowned with success; and putting forth his hand to grasp
+the dear shadow, he lost his balance and fell from his chair.
+
+Mr. Hardesty looked around him, wondering. He resumed his seat and rubbed
+his eyes. The fire had almost gone out. The wick was long and dim. He
+looked at the clock; it wanted just twenty minutes of midnight.
+
+Mr. Hardesty snuffed the candle and commenced divesting himself of his
+apparel; placed his boots beside Dicky's shoes on the hearth; threw his
+upper garments on the back of a chair, and his nether ditto on the seat
+thereof. But his extremities were cold, he thought, and placing a chair
+bottom upward on the floor, he put his feet to the fire.
+
+For some minutes Mr. Hardesty stared steadily at the ceiling, beyond which
+Miss Sidebottom was sleeping in virgin security; and whether from the
+magnetic effect of his constant gaze, or the slumbrous air that pervaded
+the room, his eyelids soon closed, and he was again soundly asleep. The
+candle burned dimly on; coal after coal was turned to ashes; at last both
+went out, and still Mr. Hardesty slept.
+
+Presently there was a stir in the bed occupied by Dick. The boy rose on
+his pillow and looked cautiously around him. He called Mr. Hardesty, but
+there was no answer. At this Dick put one leg out of bed, and then the
+other, and stood firmly on the floor. Gliding cautiously over the carpet,
+he stooped over the sleeper, whose deep breathing assured him that all was
+safe. Then stepping softly to the chair on which Mr. Hardesty's clothes
+were lying, he selected that gentleman's nether garment, then went to the
+hearth and lifted the boots, and slipping on his own shoes, glided
+cautiously out of the room with his booty. Returning in a few minutes he
+again stooped over the sleeper, and then stole to bed, where, after
+laughing immoderately yet quietly, he was soon as fast asleep as Mr.
+Hardesty himself.
+
+When Mr. Hardesty awoke he found himself still reclining on the back of
+the chair. Not a little vexed with himself for lying there all night, he
+rose to his feet, and looking around, found that Dick had risen before
+him, and the bed was empty. 'Why didn't he wake me, I wonder?' said Mr.
+Hardesty.
+
+Mr. Hardesty walked to the window, lifted the curtain, and looked out. The
+mists and clouds had cleared away, and left the sky all bright and blue.
+The sun had just risen, and was shedding his early splendor on the myriad
+snow-drops as brightly as if to atone for the darkness and gloom of
+yesterday. It was a cheerful and beautiful view; but Mr. Hardesty heard
+the sound of shuffling footsteps overhead; so he turned shivering from the
+window to dress himself for the day. 'It'll never do to be caught in this
+fix,' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+His first search was for his boots, but these had been taken out, as he
+supposed, to be polished. He would put on his breeches and wait for his
+boots. He cast his eye on the pile of clothes, but the breeches were not
+there. Then he looked on the floor, and in all the corners of the room,
+and then on the bed and under the bed--but in vain. 'What the d----l has
+become of my breeches!' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+It occurred to him at length that by some mysterious power of locomotion
+the garment had gotten into the drawer of a bureau that stood in one
+corner. He pulled at this drawer most lustily, but it was locked, and Miss
+Sidebottom had the key. To add to his discomfiture, he again heard the
+sound of footsteps overhead. He had but a moment to spare, and looking
+around for a place of retreat, his eye fell on a closet-door that opened
+beneath the stairs. Putting on hastily the remnant of his apparel, he
+presented altogether an appearance the like of which the writer has never
+seen, and will not attempt to describe, and managed to effect his retreat
+into the closet just as Miss Sidebottom and Belinda entered the room from
+above.
+
+Mr. Hardesty applied his eye to the key-hole, but saw nothing save the
+form of either lady as it flitted from time to time across the limited
+range of his vision. Presently a conversation began between the two, of
+which, however, he could hear nothing except a confused murmur, and
+occasionally a most uproarious fit of laughter. Before long the merry
+tones of the elder lady were changed to those of anger. Miss Sidebottom
+was evidently scolding one of the servants, and then came reiterated
+sounds of castigation, interspersed with tongue-lashings, by far the most
+terrible of the two. Mr. Hardesty resigned himself to his fate, and was
+willing to endure a confinement that revealed to him the evil spirit that
+reigned within a form of so much loveliness.
+
+After a while came the indescribable sounds of breakfast; the rattling of
+knives and forks, and cups and saucers, suggestive to Mr. Hardesty's mind
+of coffee, hot biscuits, and butter. Presently the table was cleared away,
+and he caught a glimpse through his key-hole of the two ladies, dressed in
+their cloaks and bonnets. In a moment they departed, leaving Mr. Hardesty
+sole proprietor.
+
+Each moment of this time was one of intense agony to Mr. Hardesty. Exposed
+to hunger and thirst, and cold and insult, what had he done to deserve
+such misfortunes? And that was Christmas, too; what a merry day to all the
+world without; and in what a contemptible plight was he! What would little
+Master John think of his absence; and how much would be sold at his little
+store before night? These reflections only enhanced the agony of his
+imprisonment; so wrapping himself tightly in the folds of his cloak, he
+crouched down in a corner of the closet, and soon fell fast asleep.
+
+Mr. Hardesty slept on until night-fall. So soon as he realized his
+situation, he determined to be a prisoner no longer, but to emerge from
+his confinement, whatever might be the danger of an exposure. Fortunately
+for him, the room was deserted. The ladies had not yet returned from their
+visit. Mr. Hardesty approached the window and found it quite dark without.
+He had little time left for deliberation, for he heard the sound of a key
+turning in the street-door lock, and recognized the well-known voice of
+Miss Sidebottom; so hoisting the window, he crawled rapidly through it,
+and leaped on the ground.
+
+Mr. Hardesty breathed once more like a freeman; and muttering deep
+anathemas against the inhospitable house and all its inmates, he stole
+quietly along, with his bootless feet buried at each step in the snow.
+Leaving the more frequented streets, and worming his way through bypaths
+and dark alleys; now turning a corner, under the direful apprehension of
+meeting some acquaintance, and now darting this way or that to avoid a
+random snow-ball, he pursued his painful way until he reached home, where
+he knocked and was admitted by Master John.
+
+The grocer bolted in, rushed into his counting-room, and throwing off his
+cloak, stared wildly at the bewildered boy. 'What do you think of that,
+John?' pointing to his denuded extremities. 'How does that become your old
+master, Sir?'
+
+Master John, frightened partly at the anomalous appearance of the grocer,
+and partly at the sternness of his voice and manner, started back to the
+remotest corner of the room, but said nothing.
+
+'What's the matter now, you little fool?' said his master. 'Are you afraid
+of old Tom Hardesty? If you are, you needn't be; nobody need be afraid of
+such an old coward as I am--darned if they need!' And feeling that he was
+growing melancholy, he determined to subdue the propensity, and to that
+end commenced cutting the complicated figure entitled a pigeon-wing. This
+exhilarating sport soon restored the grocer's good humor, and he laughed
+heartily and made such a racket altogether, that the boy gradually
+approached him to inquire what it all meant, how he had spent his
+Christmas, what had become of his breeches, and all about it.
+
+'Here, John,' said Mr. Hardesty, seating himself by the fire, 'sit here
+and I'll tell you all about it. But what an old fool I am! Here's
+twenty-four blessed hours gone, and the d----l a bit or a drop have I had
+since last night at supper. Is this my house or not, John? for I've forgot
+every thing except one, and wouldn't swear I ain't dreaming, and haven't
+been all day.'
+
+The boy gave him every assurance that he was at home.
+
+'Well, John,' pursued the master, 'I think the last time I was here--it
+may be a year, or it may be more--I'll be hanged if I know--but I rather
+think there was a lot of prime cheese, and a few barrels of crackers. You
+haven't sold 'em all, John?'
+
+John smiled, and answered negatively.
+
+'I rather think, too, there were several casks of best three-year-old
+whiskey, prime lot; any of _that_ left, John?'
+
+John pointed, in reply, to a row of casks in one corner that answered the
+description.
+
+'No! stop, Sir!' said Mr. Hardesty, soliloquizing; 'I think she said
+Madeira was good for it. Yes, John, I'll take a little of the Madeira, if
+you've any on hand.'
+
+John opened a cupboard door, and producing a black quart-bottle, assured
+Mr. Hardesty it was nearly full.
+
+'That'll do, Sir,' said the grocer. 'Set the table; never mind the cloth.
+Crackers and cheese and old Madeira, and 'away with melancholy.''
+
+In a few minutes the table was spread according to directions, after which
+Mr. Hardesty seated himself near it and did ample justice to the simple
+fare.
+
+'You see, John,' said the old gentleman, when his appetite was somewhat
+assuaged, 'it's all on account of that old, ugly, and infernal Peggy
+Sidebottom. Here's hoping she may--may never drown her sorrows in the
+flowing bowl!'
+
+The grocer drank this toast with infinite gusto and replenished his glass.
+
+'Well, Sir, as I was about saying, I went there last night to spend an
+hour in a little sociable chat, and was about taking leave----' At this
+point the speaker was interrupted by several violent raps at the door.
+
+'Who's that?' inquired Mr. Hardesty, draining his glass.
+
+'It's me,' said a voice from without.
+
+'What do you want?' said Mr. Hardesty.
+
+'Nothin'; what do _you_ want?'
+
+'Who the d----l are you?' said the grocer, in a voice of thunder.
+
+'Dick!' replied the voice.
+
+'Dick what?'
+
+'Dick Sidebottom!'
+
+'What do you want here?' said the grocer, rising and pacing the floor.
+'John, where's my cow-hide? Clear yourself, you little rascal, or
+I'll----'
+
+'But I've got your breeches and your boots, Sir,' said Dick.
+
+'Oh! you _have_, have you?'--and Mr. Hardesty threw aside the cow-hide,
+and opened the door. Dick marched boldly in, deposited his plunder on a
+chair, and then looked Mr. Hardesty full in the face with a glance of
+perfect innocence. The owner of the recovered booty picked them up,
+examined them closely to satisfy himself of their identity, and without
+saying a word, put them on in their appropriate places. This done, he
+surveyed himself with a smile of approbation, and felt that he was indeed
+Mr. Hardesty once more. After helping Dick to a highly sweetened draught
+from the contents of the black bottle, he begged of him a detailed account
+of the affair of the lost boots and breeches. This Dick proceeded to give;
+by telling, in his peculiar and highly figurative manner, how his aunt had
+first suggested the feat to him; how he had risen while Mr. Hardesty was
+asleep, secured the booty, and hid it in an adjoining hay-loft; how his
+aunt had promised him a Christmas pie, and though often requested thereto,
+had failed to comply; how she had inflicted personal chastisement on him
+for some trivial offence; and how, on reflecting what a kind-hearted old
+gentleman Mr. Hardesty was, and what a crabbed old thing Aunt Peggy was,
+he had repented of his theft, and determined to make restitution at the
+earliest opportunity; 'and there they are on you,' said Dick, in
+conclusion, 'and that's all about it.'
+
+Mr. Hardesty listened with due attention to this detail, and then sat for
+some time in silence.
+
+'And you can swear to all this in a court of justice, can you?'
+
+'Certainly, Sir.'
+
+'And you'll do it when called on?'
+
+Dick bowed his head in assent.
+
+'Good!' said Mr. Hardesty, grasping the boy's hand. 'Take a little more of
+this,' he continued, filling Dick's glass. 'Your aunt shall suffer for
+this yet, if there's any law or justice in the land.'
+
+'Ain't there no law,' inquired Dick, pausing in his draught, 'for suing an
+old lady for 'sault and batterhim?'
+
+'No, Dicky, I fear not in your case; but if I get any damages, I'll give
+you half.'
+
+Dick drained the contents of his glass, and shaking hands most cordially
+with Mr. Hardesty and Master John, bade them good night. It is scarcely
+necessary to add, that the last surviving male heir of the Sidebottoms was
+gloriously drunk in less than an hour, and made such a demonstration of
+that fact to his sober and discreet aunt, that she caused his head to be
+soused repeatedly in cold water, and then flogged him into sobriety.
+
+It is not to be supposed that the disappearance of the village grocer from
+his usual post for a whole day together, and particularly on Christmas,
+that busiest of all days, failed to excite a degree of general curiosity
+and inquisitiveness as to the cause of his absence; but to the many
+inquiries of his friends touching that subject, he only replied by shaking
+his head and saying that time would show. Enough had leaked out, however,
+to satisfy the public that the affair was shrouded in a mystery that was
+worth the trouble of penetrating; so that when on the morning of the first
+of January immediately succeeding the year that had just closed, Mr.
+Thomas Hardesty and Miss Margaret Sidebottom were summoned each by three
+lusty cheers from the town-crier to appear before his worship the police
+judge of Idleberg, the populace rushed to the scene of judicial conflict,
+until the humble and contracted audience-chamber was crowded to
+overflowing.
+
+The witnesses summoned in the case were Mrs. Jenkins, Jake Crow, and
+Master Dick Sidebottom. In due time the defendant came into court, leaning
+on the arm of her next friend and privy counsellor, Mrs. Jenkins, who as
+usual was attended by a bevy of young Jenkinses. Before embarking in this
+trying embassy, the ladies, by the way, had gone to the Madeira bottle;
+the one complaining of a pain in the breast, and the other of general
+nervousness. Mr. Hardesty was unattended, and so were his remaining
+witnesses.
+
+The warrant gravely charged the defendant with stealing or causing to be
+stolen from the plaintiff, on the night of the twenty-fourth of December
+last past, a pair of boots and a pair of breeches, whose respective values
+were duly set forth. The reading of this document created quite a
+sensation throughout the court-room. Mrs. Jenkins was called and sworn.
+She deposed that on the night specified in the warrant, she had taken tea
+at the defendant's house; that she was suddenly called home, missing
+thereby a great deal of anticipated pleasure; that the defendant passed
+the next day, being Christmas-day, at her (witness's) house; and witness
+did not at any time see defendant steal or cause to be stolen from
+plaintiff the said boots and breeches, nor did she believe Miss Sidebottom
+to be capable of such an act; 'and particular,' she said in conclusion,
+'from such a pitiful old scamp as Tom Hardesty;' and glancing around
+triumphantly at the audience, and scornfully at the plaintiff, she waited
+for the court's cross-questions.
+
+'Is that all you know about the case, Madam?' inquired his worship,
+smiling.
+
+That was all.
+
+'You can retire. Call Jake Crow.'
+
+Mr. Crow stood in no need of being called, as he marched up to the judge
+immediately, and deposed that on the last Christmas-eve night, he had
+called at defendant's house for Mrs. Jenkins, as old Jenkins had been
+knocked on the head and carried home drunk. (At this Mrs. Jenkins looked
+like a carnation pink, and commenced fanning herself violently with her
+pocket-handkerchief.) Witness, however, did not enter the house, and knew
+nothing whatever of the matter in dispute.'
+
+'You can retire, Mr. Crow. Call Richard Sidebottom.'
+
+Dick had managed, with his usual restlessness, to retire some time before
+this from the crowded room, and was breathing the pure air and playing his
+boyish pranks in a distant part of the town. The officer who was
+despatched for the young gentlemen returned presently, lugging him by the
+coat-collar. After being introduced to the court by the usual solemnities,
+Dick proceeded to give in detail the events of the memorable night, as
+already known to the reader. He also gave an interesting account of the
+defendant's oft-repeated cruelties to himself personally; how on Christmas
+night he had restored the stolen articles to plaintiff, and how the
+rightful proprietor was wearing the same in court.
+
+A general hurrah and stamping of feet succeeded the delivery of this
+testimony; at which the judge frowned, and the constable cried 'Order!'
+with all his lungs.
+
+'Mr. Hardesty,' said the judge, when order was restored, 'do you feel
+disposed to prosecute this suit? I fear I must dismiss the warrant, on the
+ground that the court can furnish no relief in the case. What say you?'
+
+Mr. Hardesty arose. 'May it please your worship, the time was, and I care
+not who knows it, when I entertained for the defendant in this cause
+feelings of the most profound respect and admiration. And I had been led
+to hope that my passion was not altogether disregarded; that Miss
+Sidebottom would one day become Mrs. Hardesty. And this, Sir, as detailed
+to you by the last witness, her own nephew, is the treatment I have
+received!' The speaker paused and applied his pocket handkerchief to his
+eyes. The audience was touched. 'It ain't the temporary loss of my
+breeches; it ain't the long weary hours I spent shivering in that closet;
+it ain't the wading home bare-footed in the snow; it ain't the finger of
+scorn some gentlemen may p'int at me now, that wounds my heart; but it's
+feeling and knowing that the woman I loved better than my own life; the
+woman I would have lived for, or died for, to make her happy; that that
+very woman----' He could say no more; his feelings overpowered him, and he
+sat down.
+
+Miss Sidebottom's sympathies were evidently touched throughout this
+harangue. Until now, she had been rocking to and fro in her seat, and when
+Mr. Hardesty concluded, she rushed through the crowd, threw herself on his
+neck, and kissed him passionately.
+
+'Clear the room!' bawled his worship, starting to his feet. 'Clerk,' he
+continued, addressing that official personage, who was standing near,
+'write me a license to unite Thomas Hardesty and Margaret Sidebottom in
+the holy bands of matrimony. I know they are of age, and don't need any
+guardeens.'
+
+The judge sat down, convulsed by his own wit, while the clerk proceeded to
+his task. The loving pair looked up and smiled through their tears. 'I
+loved you, Tom, all the time; I did indeed. It was all in fun, dear
+man--indeed it was!' Tom Hardesty threw his arms around her neck, and
+pressed her head to his bosom.
+
+'Come!' said his worship, after reading the license, 'none of your
+hysterics here, but stand up and be married.' And married they were; and
+the bride, in consideration of her cruelty, paid the costs of the suit and
+the marriage fees; and off they marched homeward, amid the deafening
+huzzas of the multitude that was gathered in the street.
+
+Happy New-Year! that sealed Tom Hardesty's happiness! Many a changing
+season has come and gone since then, and nobody knows but they are the
+happiest couple in Idleberg. Mr. Hardesty's first domestic advice to his
+bride was to decline Mrs. Jenkins's farther acquaintance, which she did
+most readily. The old gentleman has long since despaired of having an heir
+direct, but has promised John, who is prospering behind his old master's
+counter, that he and Belinda shall marry before long. Mr. Richard
+Sidebottom is one of the 'reformed drunkards,' and eschews Madeira
+especially. He is now an attorney, _in embryo_, and gives ample promise of
+carrying into his profession all the acuteness and cunning which
+distinguished his exploits on the memorable night that opened this chapter
+in the biography of Mr. Tom Hardesty.
+
+
+
+
+WINTER EVENING.
+
+
+ The fire is burning cheerly bright, the room is snug and warm,
+ We keep afar the wintry night, and drive away the storm;
+ And when without the wanderer pines, and all is dark and chill,
+ We sit securely by the fire, and sparkling glasses fill.
+
+ And ever as the hollow wind howls through the moaning trees,
+ Strange feelings on the boding heart with sudden chillness seize:
+ But brightly blazes then the hearth, and freely flows the wine;
+ And laugh of glee, and song of mirth, then wreathe their merry twine.
+
+ We think not how the dashing sleet beats on the crusted pane,
+ We care not though the drifting snow whirls o'er the heath amain;
+ But haply, while our hearts are bright, far struggling through the
+ waste,
+ Some traveller seeks our window's light, with long and fruitless haste.
+
+ Hark his halloo! we leave the fire, and hurry forth to save:
+ A short half hour, and he had found beneath the snow a grave.
+ Pile on the wood!--feed high the flame!--bring out our choicest store!
+ The traveller's heart grows warm again; his spirit droops no more.
+
+ J. G. P.
+
+
+
+
+SONG OF THE NEW YEAR.
+
+BY MRS. R. S. NICHOLS.
+
+
+ I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,
+ An heir of the monarch Earth's children call TIME;
+ With years yet unborn, I have stood in the hall
+ That was reared by our sire, awaiting his call:
+ Last eve, as I lay on his bosom at rest,
+ I saw slowly rise a white cloud in the west;
+ Now through the blue ether, through regions of space,
+ It floated up softly, with fairy-like grace,
+ And paused 'neath the light of the white-shining stars,
+ Whose rays pierced its centre, like clear silver bars;
+ The winds revelled round it, unchecked in their mirth,
+ As it hung, like a banner, 'mid heaven and earth.
+
+ The soft fleecy folds of the clouds swept aside,
+ The winds ceased their revels, and mournfully sighed;
+ A car slowly rolled down the pathway of Time,
+ A bell slowly tolled a funereal chime:
+ A sound in the air, and a wail on the breeze,
+ Swift as wave follows wave on tempest-tossed seas;
+ Thin shadows swept by in that funeral train,
+ As glide o'er old battle-grounds ghosts of the slain.
+ I saw the dim spectres of long-buried years--
+ The Seasons close followed, in mourning and tears.
+
+ Arrayed in his armor, death-darts in his hand,
+ The grim King of Terrors strode on with the band,
+ While cold, stark and ghastly, there lay on his bier
+ The death-stricken form of the hoary OLD YEAR!
+ How bent was his figure, how furrowed his brow,
+ How weary he looked from his pilgrimage now!
+ The phantoms of Passion, of Hope and Despair,
+ With dark, waving plumage, encircled him there;
+ The Months stood around, and the bright dancing Hours
+ On spirit-wings floated, like birds among flowers.
+
+ A voice sweet as music now smote on my ear:
+ 'Go forth in thy beauty, thou unspotted Year!
+ The old Year hath died 'mid rejoicings and mirth,
+ That rocked the stern heart of the rugged old Earth!
+ The midnight is passing; away to thy car!
+ Thou'lt sail by the lustre of morning's bright star;
+ Away!' And I rose from the bosom of Time,
+ And fled through the gates of that shadowy clime;
+ My car sped along on the wings of the wind,
+ While Winter, old man! tottered slowly behind.
+
+ The sky's eastern portals impeded my flight,
+ When Morning rose up from the arms of the Night;
+ The dawn faintly glowed, and I saw the old Earth,
+ And sailed in my kingdom, a monarch at birth!
+ 'Then give me wild music, the dance and the song,
+ For ever!' I shouted, while whirling along:
+ 'I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,
+ A breath of the monarch Earth's children call TIME!'
+
+_Cincinnati, December, 1843._
+
+
+
+
+ON COLOUR.
+
+ Full angel-like the birdis sang their hours[1]
+ Within their curtains green, within their bowers
+ Apparelled with white and red, with bloomys sweet.
+ Enamell'd was the field with all colours:
+ The pearlit drops shook as in silver showers,
+ While all in balm did branche and leavis fleit.[2]
+ Depart fra' Phoebus did Aurora greit;
+ Her chrystal tears I saw hing on the flowers
+ Which he, for love, all drank up with his heat.
+
+ DUNBAR.
+
+ [1] Heures, prayers.
+ [2] Float.
+
+ 1. The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
+
+ 2. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me
+ beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul.
+
+ A PSALM OF DAVID.
+
+
+As I walk over the surface of this fair Earth, an erring and a wayward
+being, at times dejected by the trials of a solitary and an almost
+abortive life, or sustained or elevated by its prosperous incidents; I
+sometimes think that no one other blessing of existence hath ever
+comforted my heart and restored my soul so much, as the pleasures and
+delights of COLOUR. It is my wealth, my joy, my faculty, my fountain!
+
+The recreative pleasure that others find in Music, although this is not
+denied is less to me than to them, a restorative and a balm. Music excites,
+arouses me; melts me into weakness, or animates me into passionate
+exertion; but it is in the green pasture and beside the still waters, in
+bowers apparelled with white and red; it is in the tints with which autumn
+is bedecked, and Day expires; that I feel I shall not want, and that GOD
+restoreth my soul! And it is among huge and solitary mountain masses of
+grey castellated rock, in the crevices of which the stinted pine, and the
+cedar with its brown and tattered trunk, struggle out a hard and scanty
+existence and are yet covered with never-fading verdure--mountains to
+which the Saviour of mankind might have retired to meditate and pray--that
+I feel that the Lord is my Shepherd, and shall bring me to the green
+pastures, and lead me beside the still waters; my Rock! my fortress! and
+my high tower!
+
+Sometimes my heart takes a fancy altogether for _brown_ hues; and as you
+cannot at all times command these in the country, I seat myself down
+quietly in front of a precious Cuyp with which GOD hath endowed me, and
+that (except the sky and water) is composed entirely of them in every
+gradation and shade; and when I rise up from the contemplation of it, I
+feel that it is in brown hues that GOD restoreth my soul.
+
+Sometimes I dwell upon the silvery trunk of the birch-tree, or upon the
+darker hue of the beech. Sometimes my soul drinks the full beauties of the
+umbrageous chestnut; or revels in the golden berries, and the graceful
+branches that seem overladen with them, of the mountain-ash. As I grow old
+I wave often in the grey pendulous mosses of the South, or stand in
+thought under the gigantick branches of the live oak, with all its leaves
+of laurel, and its heroick gesture. GOOD GOD! I say, when I think that we
+might all have been born, ate, drank, smoked, grown up, built, propagated,
+and died, as thoroughly and effectually as we now do, and all these
+precious objects of our sight and joy been made for us--out of the one
+desolate colour of an old pipe!
+
+And WATER--that element of Life, that upon the plaintain-leaf looks so
+like a molten mass of diamond that you can hardly persuade yourself it is
+aught else, might as well have been created of a mere drab quaker-colour;
+or not even as bright as a bit of Quartz Rock! and yet have satisfied our
+thirst as well as if it had gushed forth from the limpid sources of the
+Croton; or been drawn from the transparent body of Lake George; or from
+those mountain streams of sparkling chrystal that, in alternate shade and
+gleams of light of tropical brilliancy, bound and gush and dance their way
+downward from rock to rock to the sound of their own musick, and make
+themselves into rivers of joy as they descend along the _Grand Etang_ of
+the Island of Grenada!
+
+And WINE, that GOD hath sent to make glad the heart of man, and
+hath blessed it in the cup; and which might perhaps have had the same
+hilarious effect, though it were of the dingy colour of the ashes of the
+grate by which I sit; but which, for our more perfect happiness, He hath
+made to outvie the Topaz and the Ruby, in its lustre and its varied hue!
+
+There are many of us who have this one quality, the love of colour, in
+common with the magnificent DAVID, whose precious inspiration I have
+quoted at the head of my Essay, and who in a thousand passages interweaves
+it like a golden thread amid his works; but as in the minds of many
+others, it may be a blessing only half appreciated, I have thought that a
+few words upon this subject might fall not unfruitfully upon the heart,
+perchance of some one young Reader of this article, just opening to the
+knowledge of this peculiar work of the great Master of mankind, COLOUR.
+
+Even Music, although itself an occupation revealed to us as of the Angels
+of Light, is, except perhaps as they enjoy it--with whom poetry and
+modulated sound adapted to the thought are inseparably one--even music is
+less refined, less gentle, perfect, unobtrusive. For the enjoyment of
+Colour involves no possible interruption of another's tastes; no outbreak
+upon the quiet stillness of the day; no intrusion on 'the ear of night;'
+nor yet any expression, that by pouring abroad the sensations, might
+diminish the deep earnestness of the soul; which, all sight, all ear,
+becomes the Recipient. The enjoyment of colour is the Spirit within us
+listening to the language of GOD! to the mute expression of His
+unspeakable Love! COLOUR--the conception He hath chosen for His bow of
+promise in the Heavens! by which He decorates the Earth, and tells of
+Himself in the ocean, and in the sky, and by which He restoreth the Soul
+of man!
+
+And in that state of celestial existence which attends the redeemed Soul
+disenthralled from 'the body of this death,' is it to be doubted, that
+among the joys that 'the eye hath never seen, nor the heart conceived,'
+there exist colours beautiful beyond all earthly wealth of imagination;
+beyond the poet's fancy and the painter's dream? There where the pure gold
+of which the city is constructed, is transparent as glass, and each gate
+is one pearl, and the very foundations of the walls are of jasper, and
+chalcedony, sapphire, emerald, ruby, amethyst and topaz; and the glory of
+GOD is the light that lightens it!
+
+But it is not to another world that the joys of colour are postponed, nor
+even to another climate that we need look for the precious satisfaction
+that they impart. We have not the carpets of flowers of rainbow tints,
+that spread themselves over whole prairies of Texas and Mexico, but what a
+gem upon the bosom of Earth when it is unexpectedly found among us is the
+blue campanula! And the small white lily of the valley, sheltered and
+concealed in its green leaves like a hidden tear of Joy, and almost as
+rare! And the bright and graceful lobelia cardinalis that loves the
+neighbourhood of the still waters. And the fringed gentian of a tint so
+cerulean that our true poet derives it from the firmament; as his own
+spirit, if left to approach its kindred element, might claim affinity with
+the overshadowing expanse of celestial life![3]
+
+ [3] THIS allusion is to BYRANT'S lines 'To the Fringed
+ Gentian,' a poem so replete with truth and beauty, that we
+ cannot resist the inclination to quote it here.
+
+ ED. KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+ Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
+ And coloured with the heaven's own blue.
+ That openest, when the quiet light
+ Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
+
+ Thou comest not when violets lean
+ O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
+ Or columbines, in purple dressed,
+ Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.
+
+ Thou waitest late, and com'st alone,
+ When woods are bare and birds are flown,
+ And frosts and shortening days portend
+ The aged year is near his end.
+
+ Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
+ Look through its fringes to the sky,
+ Blue--blue--as if that sky let fall
+ A flower from its cerulean wall.
+
+ I would that thus, when I shall see
+ The hour of death draw near to me,
+ Hope, blossoming within my heart,
+ May look to heaven as I depart.
+
+I speak not to thee of the gorgeous sunsets and of those piles of massy
+clouds of living and ever-varying colours on which the Day pillows himself
+to rest in a luxurious repose; but open thine heart upon the Eastern bank
+of the Hudson at the grey of morning, and look with the Sun upon the
+opposite shore; and as the mists arise and are dispelled from before thee,
+there shall come change after change of colour neutral and calm and slowly
+warming into beauty, until a violet haze shall rest upon the hill-tops and
+the cliffs that might outvie the golden haze of Italy, and that shall
+raise thy thoughts in silent thankfulness, and educate thee to enjoy the
+untold treasuries of colour that glow in upper Heaven; and hope shall
+spring forth renewed within thee; and sorrow shall fade from thy widowed,
+or thy childless heart; the peace which passeth understanding shall come
+over thee; and GOD even thine own GOD shall bless thee; and to thine eyes,
+now opened to the wonders of His goodness, all the ends of the Earth shall
+_shew forth_ His praise!
+
+ JOHN WATERS.
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS
+
+SUGGESTED BY GLIDDON'S LECTURES ON THE ANTIQUITIES OF EGYPT.
+
+MISS H. J. WOODMAN
+
+
+ Sublime hath been thy conquest o'er the past,
+ Stemming Oblivion's torrent by thy might,
+ Reading symbolic records long o'ercast
+ By the deep shadows of unbroken night;
+ Tracing with reverent finger names of kings
+ That long had slumbered with forgotten things.
+
+ The mists that deeply veiled historic rays,
+ Thou art dispelling with resistless hand;
+ And dynasties that flourished ere the days
+ When ABRAHAM forsook the promised land,
+ No longer noteless, nameless, boldly claim
+ Their lofty tablet in the arch of fame.
+
+ Thy curious finger with a magic key
+ Unlocked the store of ages, and the light,
+ Flooding the pass of time, sublime and free,
+ Decks ruined temples in its vesture bright:
+ These are the relics of _thy_ grandeur flown,
+ Land of the Pharaohs and their prostrate throne.
+
+ Ere the white stranger's land had trodden been
+ By foot of pilgrim, Egypt sat supreme,
+ Queen of the nations, and her realm within
+ Wealth, learning, power convened--a full, deep stream!
+ The bulwarks of her throne were safely reared
+ In hearts by which her greatness was revered.
+
+ And now, with Science for his trusty guide,
+ The stranger comes to read her mystic lore,
+ Tread her deserted cities, stand beside
+ Her sculptured temples, eloquent once more;
+ Not with man's voice, but with the nobler speech
+ Of days beyond our spirit's utmost reach.
+
+ And those proud monuments of youthful time,
+ The pyramids, whose lofty sides have borne
+ The storms of centuries in that fierce clime,
+ And seeming still to smile in speechless scorn,
+ When bow the everlasting hills with age,
+ Then shall they vanish from the world's bright page.
+
+ A mournful ruin to thy utmost bound,
+ A type of glory long since passed away,
+ The statue voiceless whence the thrilling sound
+ Of gushing music hailed the rising day;
+ Thus art thou now, oh Egypt! but the flame
+ Of new-born Science gilds thine ancient name.
+
+ And from the dust shalt thou arise once more,
+ Not by thine own degenerate sons upreared,
+ But strangers who have sought thy verdant shore
+ Shall hail thy fallen greatness, still revered;
+ Until among the kingdoms of the earth
+ Thou shalt appear renewed--a second birth!
+
+
+
+
+THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+HARRY HARSON.
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
+
+Notwithstanding his having made what most persons would have considered a
+hearty meal at Harry Harson's, Mr. Kornicker had nevertheless such perfect
+reliance on his own peculiar gastronomic abilities, that he did not in the
+least shrink from again testing them. Leaving Michael Rust's presence with
+an alacrity which bordered upon haste, he descended into the refectory
+with somewhat of a jaunty air, humming a tune, and keeping time to it by
+an occasional flourish of the fingers. Having seated himself, his first
+act was to shut his eyes, thrust his feet at full length under the table;
+plunge both hands to the very bottom of his breeches-pockets, where they
+grasped spasmodically two cents and a small key, and laugh silently for
+more than a minute, occasionally breaking in upon his merriment to gossip
+to himself in the most profound and mysterious manner.
+
+'A queer dog! a very queer dog! d----d queer, old Michael is! Well, that's
+_his_ business, not mine.'
+
+As soon as this idea had fully impressed itself upon him, he sat up,
+became grave, and looked about in search of the waiter. In doing so, he
+encountered the eyes of a short fat man at a table near him, who at the
+first glance seemed to be reading a newspaper, but at the second, seemed
+to be reconnoitering him over it. Mr. Kornicker observing this, not only
+returned his glance, but added a wink to it by way of interest. The man
+thereupon laid down his paper, and nodded.
+
+Mr. Kornicker nodded in reply; and said he hoped he was well, and that his
+wife and small children were equally fortunate.
+
+The face of the stranger was a round, jolly face, with two little eyes
+that twinkled and glistened between their fat lids, as if they were very
+devils for fun; and his whole appearance was cozy and comfortable. His
+chin was double; his stomach round and plump, with an air of
+respectability; and he occasionally passed his hand over it, as if to say:
+'Ah ha! beat that who can!' But notwithstanding his merry look, at this
+last remark his face grew long; and with a melancholy shake of his head,
+he pointed to his hat which hung on a peg above him, and was swathed in a
+broad band of crape, terminating in two stiff skirts projecting from it
+like a rudder, and giving it the appearance of a corpulent butterfly in
+mourning, at roost on the wall.
+
+'Ah!' said Mr. Kornicker, looking at the hat, 'that's it?'
+
+'Yes,' replied the stranger, with a deep sigh, 'that's it.'
+
+'Father?' inquired Mr. Kornicker, nodding significantly toward the hat.
+
+'No--wife,' replied the other.
+
+'Dead?' inquired Mr. Kornicker.
+
+'Dead as a hammer.'
+
+'Was it long or short? consumption or fits?' asked Mr. Kornicker, drawing
+up his feet and turning so as to face the stranger, by way of evincing the
+interest which he felt in his melancholy situation.
+
+The man shook his head, and was so affected that he was troubled with a
+temporary cold in his head; which, having alleviated by the aid of his
+handkerchief, he said: 'Poor woman! She undertook to present me with a
+fine boy, last week, and it proved too much for her. It exhausted her
+animal natur', and she decamped on a sudden. She was a very fine woman--a
+very fine woman. I always _said_ she was.'
+
+'And the child?' inquired Kornicker; 'I hope it's well.'
+
+'Quite well, I thank you. It went along with her. They are both better
+off; saints in heaven, both of 'em; out of this wale of tears.'
+
+Mr. Kornicker told him to cheer up. He said that every man had a crook in
+his lot. Some men had big crooks, and some men had little crooks; and
+although this crook made rather a bad elbow in his lot, that perhaps all
+the rest was square and straight, and he could build on it to advantage,
+especially if it was twenty-five feet by a hundred, which was the ordinary
+width and length of 'lots in general.'
+
+Having delivered himself of this rather confused allegory, Mr. Kornicker,
+by way of farther consolation, drew out his snuff-box, and stretching out
+as far as was possible without falling from his chair, tendered it to the
+stranger, who in return leaning so far forward as slightly to raise his
+person from the chair, gently inserted his fingers in the box, and helped
+himself to a pinch, at the same time remarking, that it 'was a great
+comfort, in his trying situation, to find friends who sympathized with his
+misfortunes. That he _had_ found it so; and that Mr. Kornicker was a man
+whose feelings did credit to human natur'.'
+
+Kornicker disclaimed being any thing above the ordinary run of men, or
+that his feelings were more than every other man possessed, or ought to
+possess. But the stranger was vehement in his assertions to the contrary;
+so much so, that he rose from his seat, and drawing a chair to the
+opposite side of Kornicker's table, proposed that they should breakfast
+together.
+
+Kornicker shook his head:
+
+'It's against the agreement,' said he; 'it can't be done.'
+
+'But it _can_, Sir--it _shall_, Sir! A man of your sympathies is not to be
+met with every day, and must be breakfasted with, whether he will or
+not--agreement or no agreement. Don't agreement me!' said the stranger,
+lifting up his chair and setting it down opposite Kornicker, with great
+emphasis. 'What's the natur' of this agreement?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker assumed a very grave and legal expression of countenance,
+and without replying, asked:
+
+'What's your name?'
+
+'Ezra Scrake.'
+
+'I, Edward Kornicker, forbid you, Ezra Scrake, from breakfasting with me,
+telling you that it is contrary to a certain agreement, referred to but
+not set forth; and I now repeat the request, that you forthwith retire to
+another table, and that I be permitted to take my meal by myself.' He
+threw himself back in his chair, and looked Mr. Scrake full in the face.
+
+'And I, Ezra Scrake, say that I _won't_ leave this table, and that I
+_will_ breakfast with a fellow whose benevolence might warm the witals of
+a tiger.'
+
+'Very well, Sir,' said Kornicker, relaxing from his former severe
+expression; 'I've done my duty. Old Rust can't blame me. The breach of
+contract is not on my part. I'm acting under compulsion. Just recollect
+that I desired you to leave me, in case it gets me into hot water, and
+that you refused; that's all. Now old fellow, what'll you take? Only
+recollect, that each man rides his own pony.'
+
+The stranger nodded, and said that of course he would 'foot his own bill.'
+
+These preliminaries being settled, the boy, who had been standing at their
+elbow in a state of ecstatic delight at the proceedings of Mr. Kornicker,
+with whom he had become familiar, and whom he regarded as a gentleman of
+great legal acumen, and in all other respects as rather a 'tall boy,' was
+desired by the stranger to hand him the bill of fare, and not to keep him
+waiting all day. Having been gratified in this respect, Mr. Scrake
+commenced at the top and deliberately whispered his way to the bottom of
+the list.
+
+'Beef-steak; shall I say for two?' asked he, looking up at Kornicker.
+
+'Yes, but always under protest, as to our breakfasting together,' said Mr.
+Kornicker, winking at him. 'Don't forget that.'
+
+'Of course. Now, my son, what trimmings have you got?' said he to the boy.
+
+''Taters.'
+
+'Are they kidneys, blue-noses, or fox?--and will they bu'st open white and
+mealy?'
+
+'They'm prime,' replied the boy.
+
+'Bring one for me; or, stop--are they extra?'
+
+'We throws them in with the steak, gratis.'
+
+'Then bring a dishful, with coffee, bread, and whatever else adds to the
+breakfast, without adding to the bill.'
+
+The boy, having no other interest in the establishment than that of
+securing his own wages and meals, was highly delighted at this considerate
+order of Mr. Scrake, and forthwith disappeared to obey it.
+
+In the meanwhile Mr. Scrake, after having deliberately re-perused the bill
+of fare, and not observing any thing else which could be got for nothing,
+laid it down, and looking at Mr. Kornicker, who was gazing abstractedly at
+the table-cloth, said that he hoped he (Mr. Scrake) was not going to be
+impertinent; and as Mr. Kornicker made no other reply than that of looking
+at him, as if he considered it a matter of some doubt whether he was or
+was not, he elucidated the meaning of his remark, by inquiring who Michael
+Rust was.
+
+'The old gentlemen that caters for me,' replied Kornicker, carelessly.
+
+'And does he make you eat alone?'
+
+'If I dine double, he'll stop the prog, that's all.'
+
+'A sing'lar bargain--quite sing'lar; very sing'lar, in fact. Does he keep
+a tight eye over you?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker did not exactly know what kind of an eye a tight eye was,
+but he replied: 'Sometimes he does, sometimes he don't. He's nigh enough
+to do it. His office is overhead.'
+
+'Lawyer, I suppose?--_must_ be,' said Mr. Scrake, drumming carelessly on
+the table.
+
+'You're out, old fellow. I'm with him, and should know something of him;
+and he isn't.'
+
+'Ah!' said the stranger, leaning back and yawning, and then sharpening his
+knife on the fork. 'What is he then?'
+
+Mr. Kornicker raised his finger gently to his nose, winked so violently at
+Mr. Scrake that he caused that gentleman to stop short in his performance
+to look at him; after which he shut both eyes, and gave vent to a violent
+inward convulsion of laughter.
+
+'What _is_ he?' repeated Kornicker, in a tone of high surprise; then
+sinking his voice, and leaning over the table, he whispered confidentially
+in Mr. Scrake's ear: 'He's hell.'
+
+'No! he isn't though, is he?' said Mr. Scrake, dropping his knife and
+fork, and sinking back in his chair.
+
+'Yes he is,' repeated Mr. Kornicker; 'and if you was a certain gentleman
+that I know, you'd find it out. _He_ will some day, I rather think.'
+
+'Are _you_ that individual?' inquired Mr. Scrake, with an air of deep
+interest.
+
+'No, I ain't, but I suspect some one else is. But come,' said he, 'there's
+the breakfast, so let's be at it, and drop all other discussion.'
+
+This remark found an answering echo in the stomach of Mr. Scrake, who
+resumed the sharpening of his knife, as the breakfast entered the room,
+and did not desist until the steak was on the table, when he immediately
+assaulted it.
+
+'Shall I help you? What part will you take?'
+
+'Any part,' replied Kornicker, carelessly.
+
+'Well, it's sing'lar; I never could carve. I'll help you as I would help
+myself,' said Mr. Scrake, in his ignorance depositing on Mr. Kornicker's
+plate an exceedingly tough piece of dry meat, and upon his own a cut which
+was remarkably tender and juicy.
+
+'Do you always help yourself as you have helped me?' said Mr. Kornicker,
+snuffing with great deliberation, and eyeing his portion with no very
+contented eye.
+
+'Always, always.'
+
+'Then you do yourself d----d great injustice.'
+
+'Ha! ha! good--very good; sheer ignorance on my part, upon my soul. But
+you were telling me about this man, this Rust,' said Mr. Scrake, mashing
+his potatoes, and entombing a lump of butter in the heart of a small
+pyramid of them. 'You said he was hell, or the devil, or something of that
+sort. What then? Eh?'
+
+Kornicker, though not at all pleased with the ignorance of his companion,
+in the particular branch in which it had just displayed itself, was not of
+a sulky disposition, and was easily won into a communicative mood,
+particularly as Mr. Scrake begged him, with tears in his eyes, to tell him
+which was the best part of a beef-steak, so that he might avoid in future
+the mortification of being guilty of a similar error.
+
+As the coffee went down, and the beef-steak followed, Mr. Scrake seemed to
+relax, and to forget that his hat hung over his head, commemorative of the
+recent retirement of Mrs. Scrake from this 'wale of tears,' and became
+quite jocular on the subject of the fair sex, congratulating Kornicker
+upon his looks; calling him a lucky dog, and telling him that if _he_ were
+him, he'd 'make up to some charming young woman with a fortune, and be off
+with her.' He then went into a detail of his own juvenile indiscretions,
+relating many incidents of his life; some of which were amusing, some
+ridiculous, some tragic, some pathetic, and not a few quite indecent. It
+was wonderful what a devil that fat-cheeked, little-eyed, round-stomached
+fellow had been. Who could resist the influence of such a man? Not poor
+Kornicker; it gradually had its effect upon him, for he in turn grew
+communicative; talked freely of Rust, and of every man, woman and child of
+his acquaintance. He grew merry over the rare doings which had taken place
+in Rust's den. He then descanted upon the peculiarities of the old man;
+his fierce fits of passion, his cold, shrewd, caustic manners, his coming
+in, and his going out; how long he was absent; how profoundly secret he
+kept himself, his doings, his whereabouts, and his mode of life. 'And,'
+said he, in conclusion, 'I know nothing of him. He's a queer dog, a
+wonderfully queer one. It would take a long time to fathom him, I can tell
+you. I've been with him for a long time; and am his confidential adviser,
+his lawyer, and all that sort of thing; and yet I've never done but two
+things for him.'
+
+'You don't say so!' exclaimed Mr. Scrake, laying down his knife and fork;
+and looking at him with his mouth open; 'and pray what _were_ those
+things?'
+
+'I sued one man,' (being a lawyer you know,) said he, nodding in an
+explanatory way at Mr. Scrake, 'and carried a letter to another.'
+
+'Ah! and who were those fortunate individuals?'
+
+'Poh! I suppose there's no secret about it. The man sued, was one Enoch
+Grosket. The other was one Henry Harson; a jolly old boy he _was_ too. I
+breakfasted with him; a prime fellow; keeps a d----d ugly cur, though.'
+
+'Enoch Grosket, Henry Harson!' said the stranger, musing; 'I've heard of
+them, I think. Who are they?'
+
+'It is more than I can tell,' replied Kornicker. 'That's the mystery of my
+situation. I know nothing about any thing I'm doing, or of him, or his
+acquaintances.'
+
+'Why, you must know what you sued the man for,' said Mr. Scrake,
+earnestly; 'you must know _that_, surely.'
+
+'Yes, but it's a height of knowledge which don't carry much information
+with it,' replied Mr. Kornicker. 'I sued him on a promissory note. What he
+made it for, or how Rust got it, or any thing more about him, or it, or
+Harson, or Rust, I know as little as you.'
+
+The stranger drew himself up, and looking at him gravely, said in a
+serious and even stern tone: 'Do you mean to say that you are entirely
+ignorant of every thing respecting this Rust; his family, his business,
+his acquaintances, his associates, his habits, his plans and
+operations?'--in short, that you know nothing more than you have mentioned
+to me?'
+
+The other nodded.
+
+'Waiter, my bill,' said he in a peremptory tone.
+
+The boy brought him a slip of paper, on which was written the amount.
+
+He paid it without a word; walked across the room, took down his hat, put
+it on his head, and turning to Kornicker, said in a tone of solemn
+earnestness: 'Young man, you're in a bad way, a _very_ bad way. Had I
+known with what people you were in the habit of associating before I sat
+down at that table, Ezra Scrake's legs and yours would never have been
+under the same mahogany. A man in the employ of another and know nothing
+of him! It's enormous! He might be a murderer, a thief; a man-slaughterer;
+a Burker, an arsoner, or any thing that is bad. Young man, in spite of the
+injury you've done me, I pity you; nay, I forgive you.'
+
+Mr. Kornicker, was merely waiting for an opportunity to suggest to him
+that his company had not only been unsought, but actually forced upon him,
+and even under his solemn protest. But before he could do so, Mr. Scrake
+was in the street; whereupon, on ascertaining that he was out of the
+hearing of Mr. Kornicker, he muttered to himself: 'It was no go. Waited
+for him two hours; then spent an hour in pumping a dry well. Enoch
+Grosket, has sent me on a fool's errand. Michael Rust knows too much to
+trust that addle-headed fool.'
+
+Having given vent to these observations, he deliberately buttoned up his
+coat, and walked off.
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTIETH.
+
+In a dark room into which even in the day-time the light struggled in such
+scanty streams that a kind of twilight was the nearest approach that it
+ever made to broad day, but which was now only lighted by a single candle,
+that flared and dripped in the currents of air, as they eddied and whirled
+about, seeking an escape, sat Tim Craig, and his comrade Bill Jones, the
+men with Rust's interview with whom the reader is already acquainted. They
+were sitting cheek by jowl on two wooden benches in front of a fire, which
+they from time to time nourished with sticks from a heap of wood on the
+hearth. The fire however would not burn, but kept smouldering and smoking,
+now and then springing up into a fitful blaze, which threw a spectral air
+over the room, peopling its dim recesses with all sorts of fantastic
+forms, and then expired, leaving it more gloomy than ever. The appearance
+of the men, their subdued, whispering voices and startled looks, showed
+that at that particular time they were not altogether in a frame of mind
+to resist the gloomy influence of the place. The dark, lonely room, with
+its large shadowy corners and gaping seams, through which the wind sighed
+and wailed, and the pattering of the rain as it swept heavily against the
+side of the house and on the roof, all tended to add to the melancholy and
+sombre tone of their feelings. Bill drew his bench to the fire, looked
+suspiciously about him, and then, as if half ashamed of having done so,
+said:
+
+'It's a h-ll of a night! I don't know how it is, but I'm not in trim
+to-night. Blow me, if the sight of that old fellow don't make one's blood
+cold. I can't get warm; and this bloody fire keeps sputtering and smoking,
+as if to spite one.'
+
+Tim Craig, to whom this remark was addressed, turned and looked him
+steadily in the face, without speaking; and then his eyes wandered about
+the room, as if he were fearful of being watched or overheard, in what he
+was going to say.
+
+'Bill,' said he in a low voice, his thin lips quivering; but whether from
+anger or any other emotion, was a matter of much doubt; 'd----d if I know
+which way to leap! Enoch pulls one way and Rust another. Either of them
+could send us to kingdom come. Ugh! how cold it is! Something comes over
+me to-night--I can't tell what. I don't half like the job. Bill,'
+continued he after a pause, drawing nearer his comrade and lowering his
+voice, 'I'm haunted to-night. You know that fellow, the man up town, the
+cartman----' He hesitated, and leaned his mouth close to the ear of the
+other, while in the dim light his face seemed ghastly; 'the--the man, last
+year----'
+
+Jones looked at him significantly; and then drew his finger across his
+throat. 'Do you mean that fellow?'
+
+'Yes,' replied Craig in a husky tone, and scarcely able to articulate, for
+the choking in his throat. 'He's been _here_ to-night. Three times I've
+caught him looking over my shoulder! GOD! There he is again! Light! light!
+light!' shouted he, springing up; 'make the fire burn, I say--make it
+burn! Heap on wood! heap it on! Do _anything_--but keep HIM off!'
+
+'Why, Tim, you seem to be took bad,' exclaimed his companion, at the same
+time getting on his knees, and setting assiduously to work to blow the
+fire. 'Come, this is worse than ever. We've got to work to-night; and it
+wont do to go into your fantastics.'
+
+He paused in his remarks to apply his breath to the fire, and with such
+success, that in a few minutes a bright blaze was dancing up the chimney,
+lighting the whole room, and dispelling at once that shadowy appearance
+which its great size and dilapidated state had tended to give it.
+
+'There now, that's as comfortable a fire as you can want; and arter all,
+what you was just talking of was all fancy,' said he, resuming his seat.
+'Dead men stay where you put 'em.'
+
+Craig had been pacing furiously up and down the room, as if to out-walk
+some demon that _would_ keep at his side; but he stopped short, and going
+up to his comrade, placed his hand on his shoulder and said: 'Bill Jones,
+that's a lie! Whoever says so, lies! Dead men _don't_ stay where you put
+'em. I've had that man walking with me for hours together. I've had him at
+the same table with me, when I ate; I've had him in bed with me--ay, all
+night long; and to-night he's been here with his face almost touching
+mine. Blast him! if I could but get him by the throat, I'd throttle him!'
+
+'Come, come, Tom, none of this,' said Jones, with more gentleness than his
+appearance indicated. 'I'm sorry for you; you must feel bad enough, or you
+wouldn't go on so. I've know'd you since we were boys together; and I know
+it's not a little matter that works you up, like you are now. Come, sit
+down.' He led him to a seat, and kneeling at his feet, took his hand in
+both of his. 'Don't give in so, my old feller. Don't you know, when we
+were boys, how we all looked up to you; and although I could have doubled
+you up, with my big limbs, yet you always had the mastery over me. Ha! ha!
+Tim, don't you remember the old schoolmaster, too? Hallo! what now?'
+
+Craig leaned his head upon Jones' shoulder and sobbed aloud. Don't talk of
+those days, Bill; it'll drive me mad. Oh! if I was a boy again! But no,
+no; I'm a fool,' exclaimed he, springing up, apparently swallowing his
+emotion at one fierce gulp, and in an instant becoming as hardened as
+ever. 'Am I crazy, to-night, or _what_ ails me, that I've become as
+white-livered as a girl? Where's the grog? Give us a sup; and we'll see
+what's to be done.'
+
+'There, now you talk right,' said Jones, putting his hand in his
+coat-pocket and drawing out a small bottle, cased in leather; 'that'll
+wake you up; and now to business. You hav'n't told me what's to be did,
+and who you'll go with, Grosket, or Rust.'
+
+'Rust,' said Craig, abruptly; 'he's our man. He can bleed; Enoch can't.
+_He_ never fails in what he wants to do; Enoch _does_; but they are both
+devils incarnate. I'd rather fight against ten other men than either of
+them; but rather against Enoch than Mike Rust.'
+
+'Well, what is it? He told you all about it. I couldn't hear what he
+said.'
+
+'He's been on the prowl for two days: God knows what he's arter; but he
+wants us to break in a house and steal a girl.'
+
+'The profligate willain!' exclaimed Mr. Jones, with an air of great
+horror; 'I'll tell his father of him!'
+
+'It's only a child.'
+
+'Oh! that alters the case,' said Mr. Jones, 'Then I'll tell his wife.
+Well?'
+
+'We are to go to the house, get the girl at all hazards, rob the house if
+we choose, and bring _her_ here. What he wants of her, who she is, is more
+than I know. 'You are to get her, and ask no questions,' that's what he
+said.'
+
+'Who's in the house?'
+
+'Only an old man and a woman.'
+
+'The man?--is he used up, or what?'
+
+'He's a bull-dog,' was the laconic reply.
+
+'We'll want _them_ then,' said Jones, pointing to a closet which was
+partly open, showing several pairs of pistols on a shelf.
+
+'I suppose so. Bring 'em out, and look at the locks; not the
+flintlocks--it's a wet night; get the others. We must have no trifling.'
+
+Jones made no other reply than to take out a pair of pistols, which he
+carried to the light, and examined their locks.
+
+'Are they loaded?' inquired Craig.
+
+Jones nodded: 'Two bullets in each! Suppose they twig us?--are we to fight
+or run?'
+
+''You had better die than fail.' He said that,' replied Craig, in a low
+tone; 'and when I saw his look I thought so too. D--n him! I'm afraid of
+him. It'll be no baby-work if they discover us.'
+
+The other robber made no reply, but continued to examine the pistols,
+carefully rubbing the barrels, to remove any trace of rust, and working
+the hammers backward and forward; after which he put two fresh caps on the
+cones. 'All right! I'm ready as soon as it's time. When do you go?'
+
+'Not till an hour after midnight. That's the time when folks sleep
+soundest. You could cut a man's throat then without waking him. Don't let
+the fire get down,' said he, turning an apprehensive eye toward the
+fire-place. 'It's cold, and we've three hours to be here yet.'
+
+Jones, with the same good-natured alacrity which he had before displayed,
+threw several sticks on the fire, and then turning to his comrade, said:
+
+'Suppose we rattle the dice till midnight?'
+
+Craig shook his head.
+
+'What say you to the paste-board?'
+
+'No cards for me,' replied the other, seating himself and leaning his
+cheeks between his hands, with his elbows on his knees, and his eyes
+fastened on the fire. 'I want to be on the move. God! How I wish it was
+time! This cursed room is enough to suffocate one. Curse me, but it smells
+of coffins and dead men, and is as cold as a church-vault. It goes to a
+fellow's very bones.'
+
+There was something so unusual in the mood of his comrade, that Jones at
+last started up and said:
+
+'Blast me, Tim, but you must stop this. You're making me as wild and
+frightened as yourself. Talk of your beaks, and courts, and prisons, and
+bullets, and pistols, as much as you like; but d--n it, leave your dead
+men, and coffins, and vaults, and all them 'ere to themselves, will you!
+Curse me, if you ain't enough to make a sneak of any man. So just stop,
+will you? If you can't talk of something better, don't talk at all.'
+
+Craig took him at his word; and drawing his bench closer to the fire,
+maintained his position, without moving or speaking for more than an hour.
+
+Jones, in the mean while, for want of employment, again examined the
+pistols; drew out the loads, and reloaded them; then going to the closet,
+he brought out two very dangerous-looking knives, and after trying the
+points on his finger, proceeded to oil them. This over, he betook himself
+to whistling, at the same time, keeping time to his music by drumming his
+heel heavily on the floor. This, however, could not last forever; and
+finally, wrapping a heavy coat around his shoulders, he stretched himself
+at full length in front of the fire, and was soon sound asleep.
+
+Not so his companion. In silence, without stirring, and scarcely
+breathing, yet wide awake, with ears alive to every sound, and distorting
+every sigh of the wind into the voice of a human being, he sat with white
+lips and a shaking hand until the faint chime of a clock, which reached
+him even above the noise of the storm, told him that the hour was come.
+
+'Wake up!' said he, touching Jones with his foot. 'It's time to be off.'
+
+Jones, with instinctive quickness, obeyed the call by springing to his
+feet, apparently as wide awake as if he had not closed his eyes during the
+night.
+
+'All right!' said he, looking hastily about the room. 'Hey! but what's all
+this noise?'
+
+'It's a horrible night; all hell seems abroad,' said Craig. 'But come; get
+ready, and let's be off.'
+
+'Will we want any of _them_?' asked Jones, pointing to an upper shelf in
+the closet, on which was lying a number of uncouth-looking instruments,
+the nature of which was best known to themselves.
+
+'Take the small crow; we may want _that_, but nothing more.'
+
+'The bag, too?' inquired Bill.
+
+'No; it's a girl we've to steal; d--n it, I wish it wasn't!'
+
+While he was speaking, he had thrust his arms into a shaggy great-coat,
+and was tying a thick woollen wrapper over his mouth, so that the last
+remark was nearly lost in it. He then put on an oil-skin cap, not unlike
+what is called by sailors a 'sou'-wester,' and stood watching the
+proceedings of his comrade, which were by no means as expeditious as his
+own; for that gentleman proceeded very leisurely to encase his feet in a
+pair of thick woollen stockings, and a pair of shoes more capable of
+resisting the wet than those which he then wore. After this, he put an
+oil-cloth jacket over his other one, and surmounted the whole by a coat
+similar to that worn by Craig.
+
+'One would suppose you was a baby, from your tenderness to yourself,' said
+Craig, impatiently. 'You ain't sugar, are you? Do you expect the rain to
+melt you?'
+
+'I'm a sweet fellow, I know that,' replied the other, carefully buttoning
+his coat to the chin. 'I may be sugar for all I know, shouldn't be
+surprised if I was. I've been told so afore this; let me tell you _that_,
+my old feller. You ain't in kidney to-night. Take another pull at little
+Job,' said he, handing him the bottle, 'and we'll be off.'
+
+Whatever Craig's contempt of the rain might be, it did not seem to extend
+to other liquids; for he took the bottle, and applying it to his lips, did
+not remove it until the bottom of it was not a little inclined toward the
+ceiling; perhaps its elevation might even have increased, had not Jones
+reminded him that it being late at night, the vessel could not be
+replenished, and that there was a 'small child' to be helped after him,
+who hated above all things sucking at the neck of a dry bottle.
+
+Craig permitted the bottle to be taken from his hand, and stood with his
+eyes fixed on the floor in deep thought; nor did he arouse himself until
+Jones took him by the arm, and said:
+
+'Come on; all's ready.'
+
+Craig started at the words. 'The pistols and the glim?'
+
+'I've got 'em.'
+
+'And the crow-bar?'
+
+'All snug _here_,' said Jones, touching the pocket of his great-coat.
+
+'Good! Follow me.' Craig strode across the room, and went out.
+
+It was a dreadful night. The rain spouted furiously from the
+water-conductors, and sped boiling and foaming through the streets. The
+wind too caught it up as it fell, and swept it in long sheets through the
+streets; and as the two men battled their way along, it seemed actually to
+hiss around them, like the long lash of a whip. The tempest had a rare
+frolic that night, and right merrily did it howl over the house-tops, and
+through the narrow streets; and fast and furiously did the water bubble
+and boil, as it dashed on like mad to the deep river, to take refuge in
+her bosom from its tormentor the hurricane.
+
+Not a thing was stirring; not a beast. Not a man, except the two felons. A
+right glorious night it was for rapine and midnight murder. The house-dog
+had slunk in his straw, and the watchman was dozing away, under some shed,
+or stoop, or in some dark door-way. There was nothing to stand in the way
+of these enterprising men, save the fierce storm, and what cared they for
+that? It was the very night for them. If it came to blows, or if a life
+was to be taken, the death-cry would be lost in the howling of the wind;
+it was the night of all nights for _them_; and so thought Craig and his
+comrade, as they toiled along, with their heads bent down to keep the rain
+out of their faces.
+
+'Is it far?' at last inquired Jones; 'we've come a mile.'
+
+'Half a mile more,' replied Craig; and that was all that passed between
+them, until they stood in front of Harson's house.
+
+'This is it,' said Craig.
+
+He lifted the latch of the gate opening into the door-yard, and approached
+the house.
+
+'Where are we to begin?' inquired Jones.
+
+Craig pointed to a small window on a level with, or rather sunk somewhat
+below, the surface of the ground, with a kind of area around it. '_There_;
+there are iron gratings, but they are set in the wood, which is all
+rotten. Quick! try them with the crow-bar; they'll give.'
+
+Jones, with an alacrity and adroitness which showed a long experience in
+such matters, after feeling his way to the place, and passing his hand
+over the bars to discover their exact situation, inserted his crow-bar
+between the stone-work and the wood, and at the very first application
+forced the whole out. A wooden shutter which opened from within, being
+merely secured by a wooden button, gave way before a strong pressure of
+his hand, and left the entrance open.
+
+'Go in quick!--don't keep a fellow in the rain all night,' said Craig, in
+a sharp whisper. 'It's only three feet to the floor. Get in, will you?'
+
+'Shut up! Cuss ye!' exclaimed Jones, savagely; 'let me take my own way.'
+
+As he spoke, he inserted his feet, and gradually let himself down until he
+touched the floor. In a moment Craig was at his side, and closed the
+shutter.
+
+'Now, quick! a light!' whispered he. In another minute, the dark lantern
+was lighted, and Craig, taking it up and throwing back the slide, turned
+it carefully around the place. It was a cellar, filled with empty barrels
+and boxes; and seemed to be a sort of receptacle for rubbish of all
+descriptions. At one end was a door leading to the upper part of the
+house. It was partly open. Without a word, Craig went to it and ascended
+the stairs, which were shut off from the kitchen by another door.
+
+Craig opened this, and crossed the room with a quick yet stealthy step,
+but with the air of one perfectly familiar with the precincts. Passing
+through the entry, he went into Harson's sitting-room; from there into the
+outer room, communicating with the street.
+
+'We'll open the street door, Bill,' said he, 'in case we have to bolt
+quick. There,' said he, as he drew back two bolts, and turned the key,
+don't forget the road. Leave all the doors open. That'll do. We'll get the
+girl first, and then we'll see what's to be done. First door at the head
+of the stairs. Quiet, quiet; there's a dog in the next room.'
+
+Stealing up the stairs, they opened the door, and the full light of the
+lamp fell in the child's room. They could hear her low, regular breathing
+as she slept. Craig handed the light to his companion.
+
+'I'll take her,' whispered he. 'Bring the light so that I can see. There,
+that will do.' He bent over her. As he did so, he accidentally stirred the
+bed-clothes, and the child opened her eyes; and before he could prevent
+it, a single wild cry escaped her as she caught sight of the wild faces
+which were bending over her.
+
+'Christ! how she yelps!' exclaimed Craig, in a fierce whisper. He clapped
+his hand over her mouth. 'By G-d! there goes the dog too! we must be off.
+My chicken,' said he, in a low tone, 'if you understand plain English, you
+know what I mean when I say if you whisper loud enough to wake a cat,
+you'll get a bullet through your head. Hist! Bill, was that a door
+creaking? I can't hear for the d----d dog!' Both stopped and listened.
+
+'It was only the door below,' said Jones. 'Quick! quick!'
+
+Craig caught the child out of bed, wrapped a blanket about her to stifle
+her cries, in case she should make any, and moved to the door.
+
+'Turn the light on the door; I can't see. There, that will do. Now then,
+it's open, and the game's ours.'
+
+'_Not quite_!' said a stern voice; and the next instant Craig received a
+blow from a fist which sent him reeling back into the room.
+
+'Watch! watch! murder! thieves!' bellowed Harson from without, while from
+the din, at least forty pug-dogs seemed to be barking in all parts of the
+entry.
+
+'Shoot him! shoot him down!' shouted Craig, springing to the door. 'By
+G-d! the door's shut, and he's holding it from the outside!' exclaimed he,
+pulling it with all his force. 'He's as strong as a bull. Quick! shoot
+through the panel! He must stand behind the knob. Fire!'
+
+Instead of obeying him, Bill Jones seized the child. 'Hark ye, old
+fellow,' said he; 'shut up, or I'll dash this girl's brains out. If I
+don't, d--n me!'
+
+This appeal was heard, and operated upon Harson; but in a different manner
+from what they expected, for he relaxed his hold of the door so suddenly,
+that Craig fell backward, and bursting into the room, with a single blow
+prostrated the burglar, who was bending over the child, and dashed the
+light to the ground. His advantage was only momentary; for in a minute
+Craig flung himself upon him. But the old man's blood was up. In his young
+days he had been a powerful wrestler; and even now the robber found him no
+easy conquest, for he said, in a husky tone: 'This won't do, Bill. Drop
+the girl and come here. This blasted old fool will keep us all night.'
+
+Instead of obeying him, Jones stole to the head of the stairs and
+listened. In an instant he sprang back.
+
+'We must be off, Tim! Some one is coming. Quick! Let loose the man.'
+
+But there were two to that bargain; for Harson had heard the words as well
+as the robber, and he held him with a grip like a vice.
+
+'Let go your hold and we'll be off,' said Craig, in a husky voice.
+
+'Never! You shall taste what you are so ready to give!' said Harson,
+fiercely.
+
+'Bill, there's no time to lose!' exclaimed Craig, in a stern tone. 'Shoot
+him, and have done with it! There, now; I'll hold him.'
+
+The report of a pistol followed; but as it did so, a deep groan came from
+Craig. 'You've done for me, Bill. The old fellow dodged. Run! run!--my
+rope's out.'
+
+'Can't I help you, Tim?' exclaimed Jones.
+
+'No, no; go! Get off; I'll not blow on you.'
+
+Thus adjured, the robber paused no longer. But escape was now no easy
+matter; for at the door he was saluted by a loud voice:
+
+'Hallo! Harry; is this you?'
+
+'No, no, a thief! Grab him, Frank!'
+
+The next instant Jones was in the grip of a powerful man, but he was a
+giant himself, and desperate. He flung himself with all his force upon his
+adversary, and both went to the floor together; Jones' hand on the other's
+throat.
+
+There is something fearful in the grapple of a desperate man, even when
+feeble in frame; and in the case of Jones, who knew that every thing
+depended on his efforts, and whose fierce spirit was backed by muscles of
+iron, the conflict was one of such fury that the very walls of the old
+house shook. From step to step, from the landing to the hall, they fought;
+tugging and tearing at each other like two dogs, while Harry Harson in
+vain hung about them; the darkness and the rapidity of their motions
+preventing him from distinguishing friend from foe.
+
+'By G-d! he's an ox for strength,' at last said Frank; 'if you'd do any
+thing, Harry, go to the door and sing out for the watch. I'll hold him.'
+
+It might be that in order to utter these words the Doctor relaxed his
+grip, or it might be that the knowledge of the increased risk that he
+would run gave additional strength to the robber, for he made a single
+desperate effort, tore himself from the iron grasp that held him down,
+rose to his knee, and striking the Doctor a blow in the face that for a
+moment bewildered him, sprang to his feet, dashed Harson from the door,
+bounded across the room between the hall and the street-door, and darted
+into the street at full speed.
+
+'D--n me, Harry, he's off!' said the Doctor, assuming a sitting posture on
+the floor. 'He deserves to escape, for he fought like a devil for it. D--n
+him, he's a brave fellow! There's no use in chasing him, I suppose; you
+and I ain't cut out for running. If that last crack had hit me on the
+nose, it would have smashed it. Come, let's see after the other fellow;
+perhaps he's playing possum, and may be off. If you don't stop the barking
+of that d----d dog of yours, I'll kill him.' Groping their way back to the
+upper floor, from which they caught sight of Spite, rapidly retreating as
+they advanced, they found the house-keeper standing in the room which they
+had just left, arrayed in a particularly large white night-gown and
+wearing a particularly high cap, with a particularly fierce white ribbon
+on the top of it, and bearing in her hand a dim rush-light.
+
+'Quick! Martha; more lights, and some brandy!' said Harson, pushing past
+her. 'Thank God! _you're_ not hurt, Annie! Come, Doctor, this poor devil
+is human,' said he, pointing to Craig, who lay on the floor apparently
+dead. 'Look to him; he breathes. I hear him.'
+
+It needed no second appeal; for before he had finished, the Doctor had
+turned the robber over, opened his vest, and displayed a wound in his
+breast. He thrust his finger in it, and then looking up at Harry, shook
+his head.
+
+'He's a case; _must_ go!'
+
+'Poor fellow! God only knows what may have driven him to this. Help me to
+put him on the bed.'
+
+Taking him in their arms, they placed him on the bed; and there they sat
+and watched him until the dawn of day. The bright sunshine came cheerily
+in at the window; the storm had passed, and the sky looked clear and blue,
+as if it had never been unruffled. And at that hour, and in that room,
+with the golden sunbeams streaming in, lay Tim Craig, his head pressed
+heavily back upon the pillow, bound round with a cloth dabbled in blood.
+His face was blackened and bruised, and his shirt and the bed-clothes
+stained with blood. His breath was short and heavy, and at times, gasping;
+his mouth half open, and his dull eye fixed with a heavy leaden stare at
+the ceiling. His race was nearly run. He seemed utterly unconscious of the
+presence of any one, until the door opened, and Harson, who had gone out,
+came in.
+
+He went to the bed, and leaned over the burglar. As he did so, his shadow
+falling across the man's face, attracted his attention, and he turned his
+heavy eye, and asked, in a husky voice:
+
+'Will I go? What does he say?'
+
+Harson shook his head. 'It's almost over with you, my poor fellow; God
+help you!'
+
+The man turned his head away and looked at the wall.
+
+'Do you understand me?' said Harson, anxiously bending over him.
+
+'Yes, yes,' replied the man in the same mumbling tone; 'yes, I'm come for;
+my time's up. I was a strong man yesterday; and now! now----! It's very
+strange! very strange!' He muttered a few inarticulate words, and then
+resumed his old position, looking at the wall, with no sound escaping him
+except the low panting of his breath. Suddenly he said, in a louder tone:
+
+'It's all very strange _here_.' He pointed to his head. 'Were you ever at
+sea? Yes; well, well--did you ever see a ship toss and swing to and
+fro--to and fro--to and fro, and yet keep straight on? Well, my brain
+reels and swims in that way. There are dim strange things; men, beasts,
+birds, and ghosts hovering about it; but I see straight on, and they are
+on all sides of the path; yes, I see it straight, straight, straight and
+plain. I'm going on it. They can't make me swerve; but it's awful to have
+such company about me on such a journey. Come close to me!'
+
+Harson drew his chair close to the bed and sat down. 'I've sent for a
+clergyman,' said he, in a low tone; 'He'll be here presently. You must
+endeavor to chase away these thoughts; they are only dreams.'
+
+Craig's thin lips contracted into a smile which was horrible, as without
+moving his eyes from their fixed position, he whispered: 'No, no; he won't
+do it--he'll not do it. No; I won't blow on you, Bill. Ha! how hot that
+bullet was! Lift me up! _He's_ there! Yes, lift me up, so that I may be
+above him; up! up! Ha! ha! that'll do. Bill, do you recollect the old
+school-master? There! Up! up!'
+
+Harson put his arm under him, and raised him. As he did so, Craig's head
+fell against his shoulder, dabbling it with blood. The next instant he
+stretched himself out at full length, gave a shudder; a long rattling
+breath followed; and he fell back on the pillow--dead.
+
+
+
+
+LINES TO DEATH.
+
+ How vain is human strength to flee,
+ Thou mighty ONE! from thee!
+
+
+ Thou hid'st the scenes that lie the grave beyond--
+ Thou hast the secrets of the world unseen;
+ Where the loved ones, the beautiful, the fond,
+ And all who tossed on life's wild sea have been,
+ Have gone in silence at thy dreadful call,
+ Great conqueror of all!
+
+ Empires are crumbled at thy dread command,
+ And nations rise and nourish but to fall;
+ Even earth is thine; and thou e'er long shalt stand,
+ And mark its wealth, and power, and beauty, all
+ Fade and depart as sunbeams in the heaven
+ Vanish and die at even!
+
+ The midnight storm, the tempest raging high,
+ The sweeping pestilence, and fell disease,
+ Rude winter's blast, and balmy summer's sigh,
+ Earth, and the sea whose murmurs never cease,
+ All are but agents of thy sovereign will,
+ Thy bidding to fulfil.
+
+ Couldst thou to man's earth-fettered soul reveal
+ The bliss thou bringest to the pure in heart,
+ Would sudden horror o'er his spirit steal,
+ When called at last with low-born joys to part?
+ Would he not rather sigh for that bless'd shore,
+ Where death is known no more?
+
+ Stern Power! though others shudder at thy tread,
+ And vainly seek thy arrow to evade,
+ Before thy stroke I fain would bow my head,
+ Nor grieve to see my transient pleasures fade:
+ In thy embrace my sorrows all shall cease,
+ For in the grave is peace!
+
+ H. C.
+
+
+
+
+SKETCHES OF EAST-FLORIDA.
+
+NUMBER FOUR.
+
+ST. AUGUSTINE: THE LAST LOOK.
+
+
+Our schooner was 'up' for Charleston by the first fair wind; but the
+captain was fastidious, and the only fair wind was directly aft. A point
+or two off would not do, unless it had been blowing for a day or two and
+was likely to continue till the captain could land his passengers in
+Charleston. Running in on the Georgia coast was always very delightful to
+the passengers, but not at all so to Captain S----. We had taken berths in
+the schooner about the middle of April, and when the first week in May had
+passed by, we began to think it would be difficult to find the precise
+article of air which the captain desired. During this time it seemed to
+have become coquettish, giving us all kinds of northerly, all varieties of
+east, and a preponderance of westerly wind, finishing off with a sirocco
+from the south-west, ('a Boston east wind boiled,' and the only unpleasant
+summer wind on the coast,) after which it stopped short; the sand and the
+orange blossoms settled again, and every thing hung perpendicular. The
+next morning a puff came up from the south in a very blustering manner, as
+though it had an immense capital to back it, but proved very short-winded.
+Our little craft thinking to beat us, shook its sails out right and left,
+and dashed out of the harbor, rounding the point in a handsome manner; but
+before reaching the bar it slacked away, till 'small by degrees and
+beautifully less,' it came to a dead stand; and the same evening we dashed
+back again with a no'th-east-by-east behind us, to the great delight of
+promenaders on the sea-wall and the public in general. Ladies rode through
+the streets at a hard-gallop; little niggers crept under balconies; and an
+individual who shall be nameless performed a feat with a certain Di.
+Vernon of that ilk, which resulted in a bill the next morning of some odd
+dollars for extra motion, and a severe lesson upon the moralities of
+fast-riding. The mid-day weather at this time was decidedly summerish, the
+temperature having the _feel_ of about seventy in our latitude, but
+ranging there from eighty to ninety degrees.
+
+We were beginning the summer custom of gathering every morning to meet the
+'doctor' (sea-breeze) on the square, only a short walk below, which I
+prolonged on the sea-wall to the little schooner, examined the labels on
+the berths, crushed an orange at the corner shop, and lounged up to the
+nine-pin alley to close up the 'unfinished business.' After bowling, if it
+was too warm to invent any thing that would not be forgotten before
+dinner, the old routine was the order of the day; and back-gammon or
+flirtation had it, according as we were nearer the Florida House or the
+one 'round the corner.' The thirty or forty others who had helped make the
+winter pleasant, had been gone for weeks, and our little parties for
+bathing or riding, or any other trifling matter which might be better than
+a cigar on the piazza, had that snug kind of personality which is so much
+more pleasant than safe, that I half-wished the thirty or forty had gone
+much sooner than they did.
+
+I was sitting on the piazza one morning with a number of un-appropriated
+blank hours before me, a little embarrassed whether to tease the big bear
+in the yard or lean over and give up to it, with the old dog who was
+snapping at flies on the floor, when it struck me as something very fresh,
+that as the wind was still two points off, I could make one more sally
+into the country. Before the thought had time to cool, my horse was
+brought to the door, and looking about for a companion, I asked Miss
+H----, who hesitated and declined; but I found one in Lieut. T----, who
+was that morning going over to Picolata. The distance is eighteen miles,
+through an unbroken pine-barren, (one opening only, at Fort Searle, twelve
+miles out,) and an under-growth of palmettos of just sufficient height for
+Indians to hide in. For a long time the travel over all that portion of
+the territory lying south of a line fifty miles north of us, was with an
+escort of fifteen or twenty men, who moved at a slow rate, a hundred yards
+apart, so as not to present to the Indians more than one or two shots at a
+time from any one point.
+
+Notwithstanding the precaution of a strong escort every day, out or in, on
+the Picolata road, there had been more downright murdering there than in
+any other part of the territory, some having been shot down almost in
+sight of Augustine. This was not escort-day, but if it had been, our
+horses were not disposed to be six hours in the sun, in going so short a
+distance. The little grey steed that I had been using for some weeks was
+not by any means a lady's article, but he had been alongside of them in
+many a ride on the beach, and so learned the trick of combining the
+playful and gallant in a very pretty manner. His ambition was to be always
+up to the mark, and a head more if his companion would allow it; but at
+the least indication of rivalry his head went down, and nothing less than
+iron muscles could keep him from his twelve-mile gait. If not well-matched
+it was his delight to dash ahead for a hundred yards, and then stop and
+look back, or perhaps return, make a short sweep around his companion, jog
+on sociably for a little, and then repeat the manoeuvre; and in doing this
+my arms were only sufficient to guide him a little in case he attempted
+the barren, and keep him clear of the saw-palmetto. T----'s animal
+belonged at Picolata. The quarter-master at the barracks had sent him up
+to be taken over, and as we mounted at the Florida House, I could not help
+smiling as I recognized the same fellow that the quarter-master had
+politely sent me for a similar purpose some time previous. He was
+long-bodied and very long-limbed, and having been brought up in camp, his
+motion had all the stiffness of the marching step. His point, any two
+points being given, was to make the straight line between them in the
+shortest possible time, in an unbroken trot; but there was no danger of
+his breaking it; he was not capable of a gallop; his limbs couldn't be
+brought to it.
+
+We passed out of town at an easy pace, talking over the last night's ball;
+and while crossing the bridge the lieutenant called my attention to his
+saddle, a cast-iron frame thinly covered with leather, leaving large
+rib-spaces on the back, which he commended as being delightfully cool.
+'But, my dear fellow,' said I, 'why didn't you get a blanket?' He replied
+that after getting accustomed to it, it was much easier than the padded
+saddle. 'Do you know,' said I, 'that that horse is a trotter?' 'I'm used
+to trotters,' said he. 'You ease up a little in the stirrups?' 'No;
+contrary to rules.'
+
+We now entered the barren, and the moment the horses dipped their hoofs in
+the sand, the old 'forker,' seeing the problem to be solved, took the bit
+in his teeth and started for Picolata. At the first dash the forker went
+ahead. He had laid his course, as they say at sea, and no up-helm or
+down-helm had the slightest effect upon him. His mind was made up; no
+wavering, no playfulness, no scarishness, no looking to the right or left.
+Picolata was the point; 'no two ways' to Picolata; he was on the right
+way, and he was the horse to do it in double-quick time. The little grey
+had evidently thought it was too hot for any thing in his line; but as
+soon as he noticed any thing like game in his companion, his head went
+down as usual; and after a little hard running, we brushed by the old
+fellow, made the requisite heading, wheeled, passing the forker on the
+larboard quarter, and made the circuit, to his great satisfaction. 'Here
+we go!' said I, as we passed him again; and this time the grey kept 'head
+on' for some miles, till at length I succeeded in stopping him, and looked
+back. The forker was coming in a bee-line, T---- bobbing up and down 'with
+a short uneasy motion,' endeavoring to make a seat of his jacket which he
+had stripped off; and as he came nearer I noticed that he was trying to
+look very cool and comfortable. We waited till they came up, but there was
+no stopping; the forker went by without winking or noticing the grey in
+the slightest manner.
+
+Easing up on the reins till we came abreast, 'How are you now?' said I.
+'Oh, this is nothing' said T----, turning round a very little with a
+highly-charged expression of face; 'a little rough; yes, a little--little
+rough; but you observe my seat, Sir--West Point?' 'O yes,' said I; 'very
+fine--and cool, I suspect.' But there was not much chance of intelligible
+conversation. T---- kept on talking, but his remarks, meant for the
+quarter-master, were so barbarously broken, that I could only guess
+occasionally at some exclamations, which for point and emphasis were
+highly military. Our rate of travel was not, you observe, from five to
+ten, or from eight to twelve miles an hour, but exactly ten. That was the
+forker's motion, from which there was no deviation. If he was struck, his
+heels went up suddenly and very high, but it was no impediment. He
+evidently took the blow as a military order for a rear motion; nothing
+more, and no occasion for malice. Now, if any body wishes to know about
+the face of the country; how bounded, what products, etc., between
+Augustine and Picolata, I am unable to give the slightest information from
+any notes taken that morning. My perceptions were all _in medias res_; and
+I only remember seeing a wild turkey that we scared up, and an alligator
+that made for the water while we were a quarter of a mile distant, and
+splashed in in a great fright some time after we had passed him.
+
+In little more than an hour we entered the opening at Fort Searle so
+suddenly, that I heard the orderly report, as he marched up to the
+commanding officer: 'Two gentlemen from Augustine, Sir.' 'Very well,' said
+the officer; and he turned to receive the lieutenant, but T---- was past
+all dignities. Stretching himself on a bench he ordered brandy-and-water,
+and as that was not quite the thing, added a little cherry bounce, and
+finished with old Jamaica, and presently went round a corner with a
+tumbler of the latter; but whether for external or internal application, I
+am unable to say. Without stopping long enough to get stiff, we mounted
+again, and after a few closing flourishes from the little grey entered the
+city of Picolata, consisting of one house, and were greeted with the
+chattering of ten thousand black-birds all in full chorus. A boat coming
+up very opportunely, we took passage in her that night, and next morning
+were at Pilatka.
+
+A few miles south of that place, there is a small plantation on the river
+that had been deserted and the house burned down by the Indians during the
+first winter of the war. Some weeks previous, while at Pilatka, Colonel
+---- had politely offered me a sergeant and nine men to visit the place,
+but shortly after reaching it they complained of the musquitoes and rode
+back to the camp, leaving me with the guide and Gen. W---- to finish the
+survey. I now found a young physician who was waiting an escort for Tampa
+Bay, and we went out alone; and after studying trails for a long time, and
+taking directions by the compass, we came in sight of the hammock when
+some miles distant, and entering by a winding road that was arched over so
+as to be almost dark as night, we emerged, after a quarter of a mile, in a
+little round spot in the wilderness, which for quiet beauty was beyond any
+thing I had ever before seen. There were some forty acres in the circle,
+and yet it looked not unlike a dollar in a tumbler, so high and dense was
+the forest. The magnolias, a hundred feet in air, were in full blossom,
+their white tops making an unbroken wreath over the area, while the lower
+branches of the live-oaks were loaded with the long moss, hanging like
+curtains, motionless in the bright light, and not a single bird on the
+tree-tops to break the perfect charm of the place. Beautiful, very
+beautiful! but how strangely still! A squirrel chattering, or the rat-tat
+of a woodpecker, would have been something; but there was not a single
+voice out; not so much as the hum of a musquito, though it was the hottest
+of summer days.
+
+Why didn't the oaks speak, or the magnolias? If they had, shaken their
+white heads, and raising their trailing garments, had all burst out in
+some grand anthem, I should only have thought it quite in character; and
+if personally addressed, it would have seemed entirely a matter of course.
+I should have replied civilly, begged pardon for intruding in so informal
+a manner, and backed out as soon as possible; and perhaps the click of a
+rifle would have produced the same effect. We rode around the little gem,
+and found the charred timbers where the house stood, and a few orange
+trees that the Indians had left; but the cool spring was so hid in the
+high grass, that we were forced back with parched lips to the flat water
+at Pilatka, which place we reached in time for a late dinner; and just as
+the evening set in I took passage again for Picolata.
+
+All the boats running on the river were in the government service, and
+ours at this time was loaded fore and aft with a company of dragoons,
+bound to Black Creek. As we left the dock, another large boat came out in
+a pompous manner, and gave us chase; and as the day had been intensely
+hot, a large line of clouds rolled over the bluff at the same time,
+probably from the gulf _en route_ to the Atlantic, and moving slowly
+across the river, gathered their black folds around the pine-tops,
+shutting all up, river and forest, every thing but our chimneys, in utter
+darkness. And now began a scene which combined little and great in a
+manner quite fantastic. Boatmen swearing and yelling to each other as the
+boats came near collision, and that infernal scream sounding off through
+the pine barrens like some spirit newly damned; horses prancing and
+threshing on the bows; men growling at cards, and over head thunder and
+lightning leading off the storm in a very brilliant and point-blank
+manner; all which was quite rousing and melo-dramatic. While I was
+noticing the pilot's manner of steering by flashes, a gentleman came up,
+whom I recognised as a resident of St. Augustine; and as he had a horse at
+Picolata, we agreed to go over together that night, as the darkness was
+rather favorable, and the road being sandy, we could ride rapidly without
+being heard.
+
+It was late in the evening when we reached Picolata; and with a good deal
+of uproar, men shouting, steam puffing, and half a dozen blacks
+gesticulating on shore, we each made a fortunate leap to the dock; and
+walking up to the camp in a blaze of pitch-pine, we ordered our horses,
+and at eleven o'clock entered the pine woods for St. Augustine. 'I
+wouldn't go over to-night,' said the man as he brought up my horse; 'the
+rascals have been seen about here within a day or two; for God's sake,
+Sir, _don't_ go over to-night!' But this only gave a keener zest to the
+ride. I had carried with me every where a double-barrelled gun, but I had
+found it an awkward companion, and having been all day in the saddle I
+concluded to leave it to be sent over, and mean time trust to my friend's
+pistols.
+
+The rain had ceased, and the wind had gone down, but the night was still
+so dark that we could only guess at the road by the strip of light over
+head, and now and then a flash, which would light up the avenue for a long
+distance ahead, and then leave it still darker than before. As we entered
+the barren at an easy trot, I was pleased to notice that the darkness or
+the storm had tamed my little grey into a very sober humor, and his
+companion also was in a very moralizing way. There was no starting at the
+lightning, no attempt at running, but with a noiseless tread they stepped
+daintily in the sand, pointing their ears hither and yon, and as it seemed
+to me, affecting a little scarishness, though what they could hear when
+the forest was so breathless, it was difficult to imagine; but every
+little while they would both leap some fifteen feet across the road,
+(which couldn't be affectation) shiver a little, and then pick their way
+carefully as before. We could see nothing, hear nothing; but horses are
+keen snuffers, and they might smell when we couldn't; but what was
+singular, the vaulting was done from the same side of the road.
+
+We were still keeping up a little small-talk, when some miles in the
+forest, both horses, without any jump or start of any kind, stopped
+suddenly; and looking ahead, we saw something moving stealthily toward us.
+My companion cocked a pistol and challenged; but we only heard a little
+grumbling, and I counted him a dead man; but before we had time to guess
+about it, something brushed by, and by a flash of light we saw a glitter
+of buttons, and a man on horseback. Whoever or whatever he was, we saw him
+but a moment, and he was soon out of hearing. With a remark or two upon
+the fool-hardiness of the man, we quickened our pace, and went on at a
+dashing rate, abreast and Indian fashion, just as it happened; now one
+leading and now the other, according to the wind of our horses; and in
+this manner we were passing the most dangerous part of the road, when
+there was a sudden whizzing about our ears, and the report of half a dozen
+rifles. The little grey reared and plunged and I landed--where, I don't
+know; but the next that I remember, I was standing alone in the pine
+barren. I had been running for a long time; how far I couldn't tell, being
+conscious only of dodging often from one tree to another. On looking about
+I remarked that the clouds had opened a little, and that there was nothing
+to be seen or heard in any direction. Presently I heard a yell, and
+looking around, a strapping Indian, with his rifle drawn to his eye, fired
+as I faced him, and the ball parted a lock of my hair in a manner very
+embarrassing. I levelled upon the rascal, but missed fire; the rain had
+wet the powder in the tube. The fellow took no pains to hide himself, but
+was very coolly loading again, and had got his ball ready, when I once
+more started off at full speed.
+
+It was a sharp race, and a warm one. After running a mile or more, there
+was a small stream to be crossed; and with a few well-balanced steps on a
+half-decayed log that lay at the edge of the water, I reached the opposite
+bank just as my pursuer stepped on at the other end. Hearing a strange
+kind of shock, I turned and saw the big six-footed animal astride the log,
+twisting and writhing about in great agony. He had slipped and fallen in
+such a manner as to pain him almost beyond endurance. I stood on the bank
+and laughed at him; and--shall I confess it?--I tried half a dozen more
+caps at the fellow, with a most savage deliberateness; to all which he
+paid not the slightest attention; but as his strength came gradually back,
+I took to my heels again, and fortunately reached the highway....
+
+The last ten miles of our ride that night were passed over in a very
+headlong manner: we stopped only once, as we heard the cry of some hounds
+on the south side, and then on again, keeping our horses just within their
+speed, till at the worst place on the road, we gave up the reins and let
+them go. In less than two hours from Picolata, we snuffed the salt air
+again; and reaching the open country, walked our horses leisurely into St.
+Augustine.
+
+As we entered the city my companion left me; and as I drew rein on the
+square, I noticed that the schooner was still at the dock, and all about
+the city was quiet and undisturbed. The storm had gone by, its skirts
+hanging on the eastern horizon, and forming a back-ground to the light of
+the light-house, while the city and bay were bright in the starlight; and
+if stars shine any brighter in the small hours, they were doing their best
+then. All looked pleasant and quite at home, even to the sentry at the
+corner; and there was nothing, you would say, to make one sad; but as I
+turned the corner I drew a breath of such yawning profundity that the old
+dog at the Florida House started up and growled impromptu. That dog had
+held a stout nigger all night in the yard, not long before; but
+fortunately he knew me, and after smelling, to make sure that all was
+right, he followed me into an out-house, when I rolled Bob out of a
+cradle, and giving a general order in a low voice for a warm bath in the
+morning, found my quarters and went to bed.
+
+At sunrise the next morning I was half awake, grasping at the skirts of a
+pleasant dream, when Bob came in, blew about the room for awhile, and
+cried out 'Massa, did you order um wom bath?' 'No; clear out! Eh? warm
+bath? Yes; warm bath, to be sure.' And Bob went out, and came in directly
+with two wenches and a warm bath. 'How's the wind Bob?' 'De wind?' 'Yes;
+where's the wind' 'Dun know, Sah.' 'Well, go out in the balcony and see
+where it comes from.' Bob shouted through the open window, 'De wind come
+from de Souf.'
+
+I made but one spring, and the blacks vanished. Going below, I found the
+house in commotion. The schooner was to sail at nine o'clock, and the
+signal would be the report of a two-pounder which the captain carried on
+his quarter-deck. At eight o'clock I had been all over town from the fort
+to the powder house; looked in at the church, where were some fifteen or
+twenty kneeling, silent and devotional; and was seated at breakfast, when
+we heard the captain's gun, an hour before the time. 'My God!' said I, 'I
+can't go without seeing Mrs. J---- and kind Mrs. G----; and then there's
+the pretty Di. Vernon!' (I had bade them good-by a dozen times.) I rushed
+into the street, and seeing half-a-dozen ladies not far off, gave them a
+touch-and-go shake; rushed up a wrong street, then back again, and finally
+came out on the square and saw the little schooner's sails bellied out
+full; passengers waving their handkerchiefs, and the people all around
+crying out to me to hurry, or I should lose my chance. But I _didn't_
+hurry. The idea of hurry, after we had waited six weeks! That captain too,
+had he been asleep all this time, and just awaked? No; I did not hurry,
+but walked leisurely across the square, looking over my shoulder
+occasionally to see if ---- was any where in sight, for she had promised
+to be at the dock; and passing over the long wharf in the same stubborn
+way, I stepped on board the schooner with a stiffer upper lip than I ever
+remember to have had in that climate. The moment that my feet touched the
+deck, the ropes slipped and away flew the schooner; but in all this 'heat,
+haste and hunger,' from a half-swallowed breakfast, and consignments of
+pacquets and kind wishes that were left behind, the sentiment of my last
+look was burnt to a cinder.
+
+
+
+
+THOUGHTS FROM BULWER.
+
+BY MRS. M. T. W. CHANDLER.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ It cannot be that earth was given for our abiding place,
+ Or that for nought we're darkly doomed the storms of life to face;
+ It cannot be our being's cast from 'neath the ocean wave
+ Of vast Eternity, to sink _again_ within its grave.
+ Else tell me why the aspiring thoughts, the glorious hopes of man,
+ Which spring up from his 'heart of hearts,' brook not earth's narrow span;
+ Oh! tell me why unsatisfied forever here they roam,
+ And seem to claim in higher spheres a refuge and a home.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Why is it that the rainbow and the tints of evening clouds
+ Dispel the mists in which the world our spirits still enshrouds?
+ The chord they strike!--oh, tell me not that it can be of earth--
+ The golden heart-string that they touch is _not_ of mortal birth:
+ The very buds and blossoms, and the balmy summer air,
+ Awake within us shadows vague of things more bright and fair;
+ 'Tis almost like _remembrance_--oh! would that I could tell
+ The meaning of that hidden charm my spirit knows so well!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ A simple tone can rouse it; a smile, or even a sigh
+ Can make the ghost-like shadows flit before my dreaming eye;
+ 'Tis one of life's deep mysteries; in vain we seek to trace
+ The hidden spell's dark origin that chains our feeble race:
+ But, oh! may we not fancy, may we not sweetly think,
+ 'Tis between us and another world a dim mysterious link?
+ May we not hope that secret chord from God to man was given,
+ To shadow forth within his soul pure images of heaven?
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ The very stars which pierce the veil far o'er this world of sin,
+ And seem to give faint visions of a paradise within,
+ In all their hallowed loveliness, their vague and mystic lore,
+ Oh! do they not seem beckoning to a purer, holier shore?
+ And tell me why the well-loved eyes which here upon us beam
+ Gleam radiantly o'er our path, then vanish like a dream;
+ My MOTHER! oh! my Mother! shall they find belief in me,
+ Who tell me there's no happy land where I shall meet with thee?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ I _know_ there is a heaven which is peopled not with shades,
+ Where the buds and flowers ne'er wither, and the rainbow never fades:
+ Where the mourners cease from mourning, and in smiles of joy are drest,
+ Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest:
+ Oh! there is gladness in the thought; 'tis deep, deep joy to me
+ To feel that those I love so well I there again shall see;
+ To know that though around them now my very heart-strings twine,
+ They'll be forever with me there--forever more be mine!
+
+
+
+
+SONNET: TO THE OLD YEAR.
+
+
+ Good-by, Old Year! we wait to greet the New,
+ And hope within its circling hours to see
+ More of content and less of misery.
+ Yet, haply, all life's toilsome journey through,
+ No happier scenes than thine will meet our view;
+ If so, we humbly bow to Heaven's decree,
+ With hearts, though wounded, still as firm and true
+ As when we first knelt to the DEITY.
+ Many will weep, Old Year! while thou dost lay
+ Thine aged head within the voiceless tomb.
+ _We_ weep, yet on the clouds of grief doth play
+ The bow of promise, lighting up their gloom.
+ Not so with many hearts that crushed and bleeding lie,
+ Whose only thought of gladness is like thee to die!
+
+_Brooklyn, Dec., 1843._ HANS VON SPIEGEL.
+
+
+
+THE MAIL ROBBER.
+
+NUMBER SIX.
+
+
+LETTER TO THE EDITOR FROM HIS ENGLISH CORRESPONDENT.
+
+Sir: My friends abroad complain that my last letter reached them in small
+type, most pernicious to English eyes, and half hidden among the rubbish
+of your editorial remarks, literary notices, and chit-chat with your
+million butterfly correspondents. Unless I am better served in future, I
+shall be compelled to transfer my patronage to the post-office, dangerous
+as it is, and liable to the occasional interference of American citizens.
+I have conferred with an attorney, who tells me that there is just ground
+for an action for breach of trust, in the unfaithful performance of the
+duty you have undertaken. It remains with yourself to avert any such
+consequence, by attending more strictly in future to the proper conveyance
+of my correspondence.
+
+During the last week I have received a note from the gentleman who stole
+the letters. This I enclose to you; and as I do not know where to address
+him, I will simply reply to him, through the Magazine, that although I
+have the highest respect for his talents, I would see him several miles on
+his way to the devil, before I would comply with his polite request.
+
+ Truly yours, etc.,
+ ---- ----.
+
+
+THE MAIL ROBBER'S NOTE.
+
+My Dear Friend: You will be surprised that I have found out your address,
+and indeed it required some sagacity. But now that I have, you will pardon
+me for broaching a matter in which we are mutually concerned. You must be
+aware how horribly I have been used by the Editor of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+and all through the share I have unfortunately had in your troublesome
+correspondence. He still persists in refusing to pay me a proper
+remuneration for my services, for which hitherto, I am sorry to say, I
+have received only insult and vexation. I have been advised by my lawyer
+to institute a suit at law against the miscreant, and matters are now in
+progress toward that desirable result.
+
+In the mean time I have thought proper to apply to your sense of justice
+for a partial compensation of the trouble you have caused me. My character
+has been assailed, my tranquillity disturbed, and my valuable time taken
+up, without a penny of remuneration. Now, Sir, if you think fit to
+transmit to the address of 'M. R.,' through the post-office, a hundred
+dollars ($100), I will overlook what is past, and resign solely to
+yourself what interest I possess in your epistolary intercourse through
+the pages of that infamous Magazine. With sentiments of esteem,
+
+ Yours, as before,
+ M. R.
+
+
+'So shaken as we are, so wan with care,' we begin to wish that we had
+never undertaken the publication of these letters. Between two impending
+law-suits how shall we muster courage to keep on the even tenor of our
+way? Even our staunch friend, the anonymous Public, torments us with
+frequent accusatory epistles, charging us with dulness, impiety, and
+irreverence for American institutions. All these we must lay on the back
+of our Englishman, whose compatriots we confess are apt to assume a
+latitude of style hardly tolerated among us. In the mean time, gentle
+Public, respected Cockney, and worthy Mail-Robber, we cry you mercy all
+round!
+
+ ED. KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+LETTER SIXTH.
+
+TO CHARLES KEMBLE, ESQUIRE, LONDON.
+
+
+ Good Cassio, Charles, Mercutio, Benedick,
+ (Of all your names I scarce know which to pick,)
+ Colossal relic of the nobler time
+ When great JOHN PHILIP trod the scene sublime;
+ Ay, true Colossus, for like that which strode
+ From shore to shore, while seas beneath him flowed,
+ You seem to stand between two generations,
+ High o'er the tide of Time and its mutations;
+ Be not alarmed; this comes not from a dun,
+ Nor any scheming, transatlantic BUNN,
+ Tempting with golden hopes your waning years,
+ Like 'certain stars shot madly from their spheres,'
+ Like MATHEWS or old DOWTON, to expose
+ The shank all shrunken from its youthful hose;
+ So boldly read, howe'er it make you sigh,
+ Nor manager nor creditor am I;
+ Yet in some sort you are indeed my debtor,
+ And owe me for my pains at least a letter.
+
+ Not long ago, conversing at the Club
+ Which Londoners with 'GARRICK'S' title dub,
+ We both confessed, and each with equal grief,
+ That poor Melpomene was past relief;
+ So many symptoms of her dotage shows
+ This nineteenth century of steam and prose.
+ Nor in herself, said you, entirely lies
+ Th' incurable complaint whereof she dies;
+ 'Tis not alone that play-wrights are too poor
+ For gods or men or columns to endure;[4]
+ Nor that all players in a mould are cast,
+ Every new Roscius aping still the last;
+ Nor yet that Taste's too delicate excess
+ Demands perfection and despises less;
+ But mere indifference, that worst disease,
+ From bard and actor take all power to please.
+ How strive to please? when all their friends that were,
+ To empty benches empty sounds prefer;
+ And seek, like bees attracted by a gong,
+ The fairy-land of tip-toe and of song;
+ Whether a voice of more than earthly strain
+ Be newly sent by Danube or the Seine,
+ Or some aerial, thistle-downy thing
+ Float from La Scala on a zephyr's wing.
+ Say, might a SIDDONS, conjured from the tomb,
+ Again the scene of her renown illume?
+ Could her high art, (ay, even at half price,)
+ The crowd from 'La Sonnambula' entice?
+ No; dance and song, the Drama's deadly plagues,
+ RUBINI'S notes, and ELLSLER'S heav'nly legs,
+ Would nightly still bring amateurs in flocks,
+ To watch the bravos of the royal box.
+
+ [4] By the word 'columnae,' Horace (though BENTLEY knew it not)
+ evidently meant the columns of the Roman newspapers.
+
+ While thus, between our filberts and our wine,
+ We mourned with sighs your mistress's decline,
+ You half indulged the fond imagination,
+ That what seemed death was but her _emigration_.
+ Perhaps, quoth you, and 'twas a bold 'perhaps,'
+ Ere many years of exile shall elapse,
+ The wand'ring maid may find in foreign lands
+ More loving hearts and hospitable hands.
+ Perchance her feet, with furry buskins graced,
+ May shuddering walk the cold Canadian waste,
+ And rest contented with a bleak repose
+ In shrubless climes of never-thawing snows.
+ Yes, in those woods that gird the northern lakes,
+ Pathless as yet, and wild with shaggy brakes,
+ Or in the rank savannahs of the south,
+ Or sea-like prairies near Missouri's mouth,
+ Fate may conduct her to some sacred spot,
+ Where to resume her sceptre and to--squat.
+ Some happier settlement and simpler race,
+ Where, though her worship lack its ancient grace,
+ New days may dawn, like those of royal BESS,
+ And every stream a Stratford shall possess;
+ Where, though in marshes resonant with frogs,
+ And rudely housed in temples built of logs,
+ The nymph, regenerate in her classic robe,
+ May see revived the 'Fortune' and the 'Globe.'
+
+ Such was the dream your fancy dared to mould
+ Of what yourself had witnessed here of old;
+ When with your twins--your FANNY and your fame--
+ Among our cousins of the west you came;
+ But you mistook a momentary fashion
+ For a deep-seated and enduring passion:
+ Now to your own a friend's experience add,
+ And judge what grounds your glorious vision had.
+ Beyond that Cape which mortals christen Cod,
+ Where drifted sand-heaps choke the scanty sod,
+ Round the rough shore a crooked city clings,
+ Sworn foe to queens, it seems, as well as kings.
+ On three steep hills it soars, as Rome on seven,
+ To claim a near relationship with heaven.
+ Fit home for saints! the very name it bears
+ A kind of sacred origin declares;
+ Ta'en, as I find by hunting records o'er,
+ From one BOTOLFO, canonized of yore,[5]
+ Whom bards have left nor epitaph nor verse on,
+ Though in his day, sans doubt, a decent person:
+ This town, in olden times of stake and flame,
+ A famous nest of Puritans became;
+ Sad, rigid souls, who hated as they ought
+ The carnal arms wherewith the Devil fought;
+ Dancing and dicing, music, and whate'er
+ Spreads for humanity the hell-born snare.
+ Stage-plays especially their hearts abhorred,
+ Holding the Muses hateful to the Lord,
+ Save when old STERNHOLD and his brother bard
+ Oped their hoarse throats and strained an anthem hard.
+
+ [5] The name of Boston, in Lincolnshire, is said to be derived
+ from ST. BOTOLPH--quasi BOTOLPH'S town.
+
+ From that angelic race of perfect men,
+ (Sure seraphs never trod the world 'till then,)
+ Descends the race to whom the sway is given
+ Of the world's morals by confiding Heaven.
+ These of each virtue know the market price,
+ And shrewdly count the cost of every vice;
+ So, to their prudent adage faithful still,
+ Are honest more from policy than will.
+ As if with heaven a bargain they had made
+ To practise goodness and to be well paid.
+ They too, devoutly as their fathers did,
+ Sin, sack, and sugar equally forbid;
+ Holding each hour unpardonably spent
+ Which on the ledger leaves no monument;
+ While oft they read, with small but pious wit,
+ Th' inscription o'er the play-house portals writ,
+ In a bad sense--'_The entrance to the Pit._'
+
+ Among this godly tribe it was my fate
+ To view a triumph they enjoyed of late,
+ Which, lest the chroniclers who come hereafter
+ Omit, and cheat our children of their laughter,
+ I, a DAGUERRE-like sketcher of the time,
+ Will faintly shadow as I can in rhyme.
+
+ Once these Botolphians, when their boards you trod,
+ Received you almost as a demi-god;
+ Rushed to the teeming rows in frantic swarms,
+ And rained applauses not in showers but storms.
+ But should you now their fickle welcome ask,
+ Faint shouts would greet the veteran of the mask;
+ And ah! what anguish would it be to search
+ For your old play-house in a bastard church!
+ To find the dome wherein your hour you strutted,
+ Altered and maimed and circumcised and gutted;
+ Become in truth, all metaphor to drop,
+ A mongrel thing--half chapel and half shop.
+ Long had the augur and the priest foretold
+ The sad reverse they doomed it to behold;
+ Long had the school-boy, as he passed it by,
+ And maiden viewed it with presaging eye;
+ Oft had the wealthy deacon with a frown
+ Glared on the pile he longed to batter down,
+ And reckoned oft, with sanctimonious air,
+ What rents 'twould fetch if purified with prayer;[6]
+ While through the green-room whispered rumors went,
+ That heaven and earth were on its ruin bent.
+
+ [6] At the late opening of the 'Tremont Temple' in Boston, the
+ new proprietors chanted what they called a 'Purification
+ Hymn,' of which we give one stanza:
+
+ 'Satan has here held empire long--
+ A blighting curse, a cruel reign;
+ By mimic scenes, and mirth and song
+ Alluring souls to endless pain!'
+
+ Too just a fear! The vision long foreseen
+ Has come at last; behold the fallen queen!
+ The queen of passion, stripped of all her pride,
+ Discrowned, indignant from her temple glide.
+ With draggling robe, slip-shod, her buskin loose,
+ She flies a barren people's cold abuse;
+ Summons her sister, who forbears to smile,
+ And leaves to rats the desecrated pile,
+ Which dogs and nags already had begun,
+ Unless by blows and hunger driv'n, to shun:
+ For well-bred curs and steeds genteel contemn
+ A stage which Taste had sunk too low for them;
+ Whereon the town had seen, without remorse,
+ A herd of bisons and a hairless horse!
+
+ Behind the two chief mourners of the band
+ A sad procession followed, hand in hand;
+ Heroes un-heroed, most unknightly knights,
+ Wand-broken fairies, disenchanted sprites;
+ Dukes no more ducal, even on the bill,
+ Milk-livered murd'rers too ill-fed to kill;
+ Mild-looking demons that a babe might daunt,
+ Witches and ghosts most naturally gaunt;
+ Lovers made pale by keener pangs than love's,
+ Unspangled princesses with greasy gloves;
+ Wits very witless--grave comedians mute,
+ And silent sons of violin and flute.
+
+ After these down-look'd leaders of the show,
+ Who creep like Trajan's Dacians, wan and slow,
+ Comes a long train of underlings that bear
+ Imperial robes that kings no more may wear;
+ With truncheons, helmets, thunder-bolts and casks
+ Of snow and lightning--bucklers, foils and masks.
+ As tow'rd the steep of Capitolian Jove
+ When chiefs victorious through the rabble strove,
+ With all their conquests in their trophies told,
+ And every battle mark'd with plundered gold;
+ When the whole glory of the war rolled by,
+ And gaping Rome seemed all one mighty eye,
+ Behind the living captives came the dead,
+ Poor noseless gods, and some without a head,
+ With pictures, ivory images and plumes,
+ And priceless tapestry from palace-looms;
+ Ev'n such, although Night's alchymy no more
+ The crinkling tinsel turns to precious ore,
+ Appears the pomp of this discarded race,
+ As heaped with spoil they quit their ancient place,
+ Bearing their Lares with them as they go--
+ Two dusty statues and a bust or so;
+ With mail which once a Harry Fifth had on,
+ Triumphal cars with all the triumph gone;
+ Goblets of tin mixed up with Yorick's bones,
+ Bags made of togas--barrows formed of thrones,
+ Whereon the majesty of Denmark sat;
+ Fie! Juliet's petticoats in Wolsey's hat!
+ Swords hacked at Bosworth, fasces, guns and spears
+ Rusted with blood before, and now with tears.
+
+ Enough of this: kind prompter, touch the bell!
+ Children of mirth and midnight, fare ye well!
+ The vision melts away, the motley crowd
+ Is veiled by Prospero in a passing cloud;
+ Like his dissolving pageantry they fade,
+ The vap'ry stuff whereof our dreams are made;
+ No more malignant winter to beguile,
+ Nor start the virgin's tear, the judge's smile;
+ Save when some annalist, like me, recalls
+ The ancient fame of those degraded walls;
+ Or till an age less hateful to the Muse
+ To their old shape restore the anxious pews.
+
+ T. W. P.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER FROM JAMES JESSAMINE.
+
+TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+SIR: It has not been until after much reflection on my own part, and I
+must say, very civil encouragement on that of my friend MR. JOHN WATERS,
+whose acquaintance I have chanced upon some months back, that I have
+determined to venture, either in the form of an advertisement extra, or
+possibly by your very polite admission of this self-introductory letter
+into your fashionable pages, to submit to the view of the more refined and
+intellectual part of the society of the Atlantic cities and particularly
+to that of New York, the peculiar claim that I conceive myself to possess
+upon their consideration and regard.
+
+I have been hitherto deterred from taking this decisive step, as well by
+the very disturbed and almost turbulent state, which, since my arrival in
+this country, appears to have characterized its monetary concerns--alas!
+my dear Sir, those horrid yet necessary evils and grievances of life!--as
+by some expectations I had cause to entertain soon after I set foot upon
+your hospitable shores, of the immediate death of a maiden aunt in
+Cornwall, upon which incident, and her continued celibacy, depend very
+much all my present reversionary hopes.
+
+The health of the old lady being however at my latest intelligence
+unexpectedly reinstated; the cotton crops coming forward as I understand
+to good markets, and the wonderful discovery having been made of
+converting western pork into sallad oil; the Tories being put down, and
+the banks having entered into what some time ago seemed the _paulo post
+futurum_ of specie payments; I desire to share in the general tide of
+prosperity; I launch myself upon it at its flood, discard all reserve, and
+shall descend at once without farther preface into the midst of what I
+have to say.
+
+I came out then some time ago _ostensibly_ to kill a trout or two in some
+of your delicious streams; and indeed I may without presumption say en
+passant that few professors of the Rod excel me either in the niceties of
+my throw, the cool self-possession with which I take my fish, or the
+indomitable perseverance and perfect tact with which I drown and then land
+him with a single hair. I say _ostensibly_, for I have now no desire to
+conceal from you the ulterior objects that I had in view of either making
+a book to replenish my purse, or of establishing myself for life in this
+your rising land of freedom and big crops.
+
+I have had 'good luck to your fishing' sung to me more than once by most
+sweet voices, and have realized it to my heart's content in the way of
+trout; but this is all. Since I arrived in America there have been no less
+than three travelling historians upon the ground, with whose energy of
+conception, art of fabrication, facility of combination, capacity of
+bitterness and established name, I could not enter the lists. And as for
+matrimonial projects, foreigners seem to me to have no longer any hope of
+success in consequence of the entire pre-occupation of this walk of life
+by a regularly drilled and educated corps of young Americans, bred up
+avowedly with no other pursuit; who talk, think, dream of nothing else
+than fortune by marriage; and with a shrewdness and intelligence of
+calculation that entirely distance the foreigner, (but which seem
+wonderfully after the nuptials to forsake them _in stocks of another
+description_,) know at a glance the value, expectations, hopes, and
+dependencies of each young marriageable lady even before she comes out; so
+that instead of being able to accomplish a purpose of this kind, I find it
+quite as much as I can do to avoid falling in love beyond repeal with the
+refinement, gentleness, grace, and untold sweetness that distinguish the
+portionless beauties of New-York.
+
+Indeed this class to which I have adverted of licensed fortune-hunters is
+so numerous; the fortunes themselves except to the initiated are so
+uncertain; and the entire want of that most useful profession, _les
+courtiers de mariage_, is so grievous to all incidental visitors, that I
+have often thought how admirable the arrangement would be, if the young
+ladies were at once to adopt as a fashionable decoration some tasteful
+head ornament, on which should be inscribed, in distinct but graceful
+characters, some one of such legends as the following, which should
+indicate the incontestible possessions of the wearer:
+
+ $30,000 State of New-York Fives.
+
+ My face is my fortune.
+
+ $200,000 Indiana State Bonds.
+
+ 2 lots on Broadway, 4 in the Bowery and 1 on Union-Square.
+
+ Nothing but truth, discretion, intelligence and grace.
+
+ $60,000 Alabama Sterling Bonds.
+
+ The Tongues, and what you see.
+
+ $27,000 on indefeasible Bond and Mortgage.
+
+ A House and Shop in _Maiden-Lane_ with fixtures, and a careful
+ tenant at 1400 a year on lease three years unexpired.
+
+ Musick--four pianos done up since this time last year.
+
+ 30,000 Pine trees and three saw-mills in Saint Lawrence county:
+ N. B., well situated!
+
+ A large Manufacturing Establishment with unbounded
+ Water-privileges, in Ulster.
+
+ Life and Trust--40 shares daily recovering.
+
+
+The young gentlemen might wear appended to the third button-hole of the
+left breast, epigrammatical notices of 'THE EXPECTATIONS' in which they so
+generally abound, as follows:
+
+ Uncle Asa has the phthisick, I am his heir.
+
+ As I STAND, less my tailor's bill of $1800.
+
+ Plenty of LOTS, covered partly with water, partly with
+ parchment.
+
+ In full and successful business, owing only four times our
+ capital, due us five times, chiefly in Mississippi. Expect to
+ retire in two years and enjoy life.
+
+ Two-and-six-pence in my pocket, with great but indefinable
+ hopes.
+
+ A _promising_ young member of the Bar. Three suits;--[Symbol:
+ pointing hand] one of them in court. Grant me my fourth!
+
+A young lady, whose nice tact and discriminating judgment are only
+rivalled by her sweetness of disposition and exquisite personal
+attractions, has divided the world of beaux into three generick classes:
+
+ 1. The Rich who are afraid of us;
+
+ 2. The Poor whom we are afraid of;
+
+ 3. The Detrimentalists.
+
+The plan I propose would aid manifestly in the due classification of all
+assistants at a ball. It is not to be thought that the sex is governed by
+any mercenary motive; but in the present organization of society a certain
+degree of attention to the mode in which matrimonial establishments are to
+be sustained is absolutely imperative.
+
+Conceive then Mr. Editor how this explicit course would remove the
+ordinary impediments on both sides. One single _tour de Valse_ and the
+whole affair might be adjusted! The gentleman forsakes the lady's eyes and
+fixes his own upon her tiara; she hers upon his eloquent button-hole.
+During the slow movement they have deciphered the mottoes, have
+ascertained, (no small desideratum in a crowded ball-room!) each the exact
+value of his or her partner; they have arrived in thought, as far as mere
+expediency goes, each at a decision; and are ready for question and answer
+at the close of the accelerated step.
+
+By the way, as the waltz is now conducted, the employment of the eyes
+during the slow sentimental movement seems frequently to the lady a matter
+of some degree of embarrassment; and the method I propose would
+effectually remove any thing of the sort. There could be no want of an
+object on which to rest them; no looking with a fixed gaze over the
+partner's shoulder; no consulting of the cornice; no care-fraught
+expression; no reluctant or displeased look, as if the lady would have
+fain declined; no indeterminate thoughts, no indefinite sensations; no
+languishment; and above all never more the portentous, the ominous look
+which often in that entrancing dance exhibits to us the mysticism of the
+Sybil, without one ray of her inspiration.
+
+No; then would the lady look, read, decide, and dance the while. 'This
+might do!'--then would she sparkle. 'Ah this would never do!'--then would
+she become placid, tranquil, and complete her tour with contentment; for
+as I think some one else has before me wisely observed, _the end of doubt
+is the beginning of repose_. Then would the faces of the ladies generally
+become vastly more attractive than at present during the enjoyment of the
+waltz; for singular as may seem the remark, although I have assisted at
+several New-York balls, I have met two countenances only throughout the
+whole galaxy of beauty that, in dancing the Waltz, have indicated either
+joy or undisturbed gratification: the one, is that of a little sylph-like
+beam of pleasure, who might well carry upon her beautiful hair,
+'unincumbered lots,' as her wedding-portion; who gains our hearts while
+she laughs at us; and who, because I chance to be within half a score of
+her father's years, threatens to call me her _vieux cheri_--while the name
+of the other, if I dared write it, would recall the most tasteful and
+fashionable costumes of France, with the sweetest poetry of Scotland.
+
+But alas my master! I have gone prattling on without saying a word of my
+own pretensions until my letter has gained such a length that I am forced
+to defer them to another number, while I subscribe myself, dear Mr. Editor
+of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+
+ Your most faithful servant,
+ JAMES JESSAMINE.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE'S ELYSIUM.
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF MATTHISSON BY WILLIAM PITT PALMER.
+
+
+ GROVE! embathed in peace celestial,
+ As in dew the rose's bowers,
+ Where Hesperia's golden fruitage
+ Ripens amid silver flowers;
+ Where a rosy-colored ether
+ Ever cloudless bends above,
+ Through whose calm abysses never
+ Breathed the sigh of slighted love.
+
+ PSYCHE, with a strange emotion,
+ Half enraptured, half dismayed,
+ Just escaped her earthly vesture,
+ Trembling greets thy glimmering shade:
+ Where, O joy! no misty mantle
+ Veils her primal purity;
+ And her immaterial pinions,
+ Like an angel's, wander free.
+
+ Ha! e'en now o'er paths of roses,
+ Glorious shape of light, she sweeps,
+ Tow'rd the shadow-peopled valley
+ Where the sacred Lethe sleeps;
+ Thither drawn by magic suasion,
+ As by gentle spirits led,
+ Fain she sees the silver billows,
+ And their flowery shores outspread.
+
+ Kneeling low with sweet foreboding
+ Griefs oblivious draught to taste,
+ Softly shines her trembling image
+ In that faithful mirror traced;
+ As from ocean's tranquil waters
+ Fair the cloudless moon outbeams,
+ Or from crystal stream reflected
+ Hesper's golden cresset gleams.
+
+ Not in vain she quaffs of Lethe;
+ For, anon, within the stream
+ Sinks the night-part of her being,
+ Like the phantom of a dream;
+ And from out the vale of shadows
+ Bright she soars on fearless wing,
+ To the hills whose golden blossoms
+ Smile in everlasting spring.
+
+ What an awe-inspiring silence!
+ Softer calm than zephyr breathes
+ Murmurs in the laurel foliage
+ And the amaranthine wreaths:
+ Thus in sacred stillness rested
+ Air and wave--in such repose
+ Slumbered nature, when from ocean
+ ANADYOMENE rose.
+
+ What an unaccustomed glory!
+ Earth! though fair Aurora be,
+ Never from her vernal features
+ Shone such magic light for thee:
+ Lo! the ivy's glossy tendrils
+ Bathed in purple lustre gleam,
+ And the flowers that crown each fountain
+ With a starry splendor beam!
+
+ Thus in silvan wilds the dawning,
+ When the modest Cynthia spied
+ From the skies her sleeping lover,
+ And descended to his side;
+ While the fields were bathed in brightness,
+ And in magic tones expressed,
+ Heavenly greetings murmured sweetly--
+ Hail, ENDYMION the blest!
+
+
+
+
+GANGUERNET: OR, 'A CAPITAL JOKE.'
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY JOHN HUNTER.
+
+
+Mine is called Ganguernet: I say mine, for you have all had yours; every
+one, at least once in his life-time, has met with one of those little fat,
+ruddy, burly men, with straight close-cropped hair, low forehead, grey
+eyes, broad nose, puffed-up cheeks, the neck between the shoulders, the
+shoulders in the stomach, the stomach upon the legs; a sort of a Punch
+figure, rolling, bawling, laughing, hallooing; one of those fellows who
+come stealthily behind you, clap their hands on your head, and cry out
+suddenly: 'Who's this?' Who pull away your chair at the moment you are
+going to sit down; who snatch from you your handkerchief just when you
+wish to use it; and who, on these occasions, when you look at them with an
+angry air, answer you with a broad grin, and a stare of imperturbable
+assurance: '_A capital joke!_'
+
+You have had yours; and mine is named Ganguernet. My first acquaintance
+with him was at Rheims. He was a complete adept in his profession, and as
+a regular joke-player, master of all the tricks of his trade. Well skilled
+was he in the art of attaching a piece of meat to the bell-rope of a
+porter's lodge, so that all the wandering dogs about town would snap at
+the tempting bait, and awaken the mystified domestics ten times a night.
+Very expert was he also at cutting tradesmen's signs in two pieces, and
+substituting one for another. On one occasion he took the sign of a
+hair-dresser, cut it in two, and added the latter part to that of one of
+my neighbours; so that it read as follows: _Monsieur Roblot lets out
+carriages and false toupees, after the Paris fashion_.
+
+But if M. Ganguernet was not the most agreeable companion in the city,
+still less so was he in the country, where indeed his presence, to me at
+least, was always a perfect nuisance. He knew how to scatter the hair,
+adroitly clipped from a brush, between the sheets of a friend, so that the
+victim, before he had been a quarter of an hour in bed, would become
+furious with the itching. He would pierce the partition between two
+sleeping apartments, so as to pass through it a piece of twine which he
+had cunningly fastened to your bed-clothes, and then, when he found that
+you were asleep, he would gently pull the string, until the covering was
+all drawn down to your feet. You awake half-frozen, for Ganguernet always
+chooses a cold damp night for this trick, draw up the covering, wrap
+yourself carefully up, and very innocently resume your slumbers; then
+Ganguernet, gently pulling his cord, again strips you naked; again you are
+benumbed with cold; and when you begin to utter imprecations in the dark,
+his detestable voice is heard bawling through the hole: 'What a capital
+joke!'
+
+Did Ganguernet chance to fall in with one of those simple-minded
+individuals, whose countenances invite mystification, he would steal from
+him during his sleep his coat and pantaloons, whose dimensions with needle
+and thread he would contrive greatly to diminish. He would then awaken his
+victim, begging him to dress himself as soon as possible, and join a
+hunting-party. The unsuspecting subject of the joke, thus suddenly roused,
+would try to put on his pantaloons, but could not get into them. 'Good
+Heavens!' exclaims Ganguernet, with affected astonishment; 'why, what is
+the matter, my dear Sir?--you are terribly swollen!' 'Am I?' 'You are
+indeed, prodigiously!' 'Do you really mean it?' 'I may be mistaken, but
+come dress yourself, and let us go down, and see what the others say.'
+
+'But I cannot get on my clothes.'
+
+'Ah! that's it, you are so puffed up. It must be a thundering attack of
+the dropsy!'
+
+And this would continue, the poor fellow, pale and trembling, in vain
+endeavoring to get on his clothes, until the tormentor, with a hideous
+chuckle, would come out with his famous sentence: 'Ha! ha! a capital
+joke!'
+
+There was one of his tricks which appeared to me to be truly abominable.
+He played it upon a person reputed to be a brave man, but who was
+nevertheless horribly frightened. One night, after getting snugly into
+bed, this gentleman felt something cold and slimy along side of him, he
+touched it with his foot; it seemed a round elongated body; he placed his
+hand upon it; it was a serpent coiled upon itself! In an ecstacy of
+terror, he leaped from the bed with a cry of disgust and horror, when
+Ganguernet made his appearance, shaking his fat sides and roaring out:
+'What a capital joke!' It was an eel-skin filled with water, that had
+caused the panic. The enraged gentleman would have broken the head of the
+joker, but Ganguernet throwing a pitcher of water over the sans-culotte
+sufferer, made his escape, yelling out at the top of his voice: 'A capital
+joke!--a capital joke!' The master of the house and his guests came
+running in at the outcry, and with much difficulty succeeded in pacifying
+the mystified individual; assuring him that Ganguernet, though fond of
+fun, was in the main a charming good fellow, a pleasant boon companion,
+and one without whom, especially in the country, it was impossible to
+drive away ennui.
+
+Our readers may perhaps think with us, that, on the contrary, this man was
+one of those insufferable beings who are constantly intruding upon the
+pleasures and comforts of others; like a dog in a game of nine-pins,
+overturning with his paws all the arrangements of your joys and sorrows;
+more insupportable, and more difficult to get rid of than the dog, they
+lie in ambush to pounce upon you, and disconcert by a word or a trick the
+feelings you may enjoy, or the projects you intend.
+
+Among characters of this description, there are some whom their
+common-place attempts at wit consign to contempt. These performers confine
+themselves to vulgar and stale jokes. To thrust the head through the paper
+window-pane of a cobbler, and ask him the address of a minister of
+finances, or an archbishop; to stretch a cord across a staircase, so as to
+cause those who descend to take, in the words of a punster, a _voyage sur
+la rein_, or 'a voyage upon the Rhine;' to wake up a notary in the middle
+of the night, and send him in great haste to draw up a will for a client,
+whom he finds in good health; these and a thousand other silly pranks of
+the same nature, are the stock in trade of a jester; and no one knew them
+better than did Ganguernet.
+
+He had, moreover, invented some original tricks, which had given him a
+colossal reputation among the admirers of this branch of the fine arts.
+The only truly witty one I ever knew him to perpetrate, took place at a
+country-house where a large party of us were assembled. Among the guests,
+Ganguernet had singled out a lady of some thirty years, rather fantastic
+in her manners and appearance, who was doatingly fond of Parisian
+elegance, and who preferred the pale face of a well-looking youth of
+rather shallow intellect, to the coarse, purple visage of Ganguernet. Our
+humourist endeavored in vain to render this youth ridiculous in the eyes
+of the lady, who regarded his simplicity as a poetical absence of mind,
+and his credulity as an indication of sincerity and honest good faith. One
+evening, after a brisk defence of the pale-faced youth on the part of the
+lady, which was listened to by Ganguernet with a patience and a peculiar
+expression of the eye which boded no good, we had all retired to our
+apartments. In about half an hour, the house resounded with loud outcries
+of 'fire! fire!' which seemed to proceed from the hall upon the
+ground-floor. Every one hastened thither, men and women half-dressed, or
+half-undressed, which ever you please. They entered pell-mell, candlestick
+in hand, and there found Ganguernet stretched upon a sofa. To the
+reiterated questions that were put him as to the cause of the clamor, he
+answered not a word; but taking the pale-faced young man by the hand in a
+very solemn manner, and leading him up to the fine lady, gravely said to
+her: 'I have the honor, Madam, of presenting to you the most poetic genius
+of the company in a cotton night-cap.' We all burst into a shout of
+laughter, but the lady never forgave Ganguernet, nor the cotton night-cap.
+
+All the jokes which Ganguernet played, however, were not prompted by
+vengeance; a spirit of fun merely being the grand principle of most of his
+tricks. Before we come to the occurrence which showed this man to me in
+his true colors, I must relate a few more of the humorous pranks in which
+he took the greatest pride. Opposite his residence at Rennes there dwelt a
+worthy pair of venerable citizens, who were the sole occupants of a small
+house, which was their only possession. Once a week this honest couple
+were in the habit of dining, and having a little game of piquet with a
+relation, who resided at some distance from their abode. On these
+occasions they were usually regaled with curds and whey, which they
+moistened with sparkling cider; and not unfrequently a bowl of punch
+concluded the repast; so that the worthy pair commonly returned home about
+eleven o'clock, singing and staggering along in a state of happy
+elevation.
+
+On a certain fatal Sunday evening, these good folks returned to their
+abode, both of them pretty much, 'how came you so.' They arrived at the
+door of their next neighbour, which they recognized, and then proceeded on
+ten paces farther, which was just the distance to their own door. The
+husband, after fumbling in his pocket for the key of the street-door,
+pulled it out, and sought the key-hole; but no key-hole was to be found.
+'What has become of the key-hole?' cried he. 'You have drank too much
+cider, Monsieur Larquet,' said his wife; 'you are looking for the
+key-hole, and we are still before the wall of neighbour Bompart.'
+
+'That is true,' replied Monsieur Larquet; 'we must go a few paces
+farther.' They walked on; but this time they went too far, for as they had
+before recognized the door of their right-hand neighbor, they now found
+themselves in front of that of their neighbor on the left hand. Their own
+door ought to be between these two doors. They return, groping along the
+wall until they come to a door, which to their consternation they again
+find to be that of their right-hand neighbor! The honest couple become
+alarmed about the soundness of their wits, and begin to suspect that they
+must certainly both be tipsy. They recommence their inspections from the
+door of their neighbor on the right, and again come to the door of their
+neighbor on the left. They constantly find these two doors, but not a
+vestige of their own: their door has disappeared--vanished! Who could have
+taken away their door? Terror seizes them; they ask each other if they
+have become demented; and dreading the ridicule which would be cast upon
+honest citizens who could not find their own street-door, they grope about
+for more than an hour, feeling, poking, inspecting, measuring; but alas!
+there is no door; there is nothing but a wall, an unknown wall, an
+implacable wall, a desperate wall! At length, terror completely overpowers
+them; they utter loud cries, and call lustily for assistance. The
+neighbors are attracted by the noise, and after some time, it is
+ascertained that the door of the distracted couple has been carefully
+bricked up, and plastered over; and when all are trying to discover who
+could have played such a pitiful trick upon these honest people,
+Ganguernet, who from an opposite window, in company with some kindred
+spirits, had been enjoying the tribulation and despair of Monsieur and
+Madame Larquet, Ganguernet shouts out his everlasting refrain: 'A capital
+joke!' But, answered the neighbors, these poor folks will take their death
+of cold.
+
+'Bah!' replies he; 'a capital joke!'
+
+The incensed neighbors petitioned the king's attorney to moderate Monsieur
+Ganguernet's strong inclination to play his mischievous pranks; and the
+magistrate sent our hero to prison for some days, in spite of his skilful
+defence, which consisted in incessantly repeating: 'A capital joke!--what
+a capital joke, Mr. Magistrate!'
+
+Notwithstanding his excessive vanity, Ganguernet did not, however, make
+boast of all his exploits; and there was one, the authorship of which he
+constantly denied, possibly in consequence of a threat that was held out
+of cutting off the author's ears, should he be detected. The trick in
+question was prompted by the contempt in which he was held in a certain
+aristocratic circle; and the subject was no less a personage than an
+ancient dame of high birth, and great pretensions, who mingled in the most
+fashionable society of Rennes.
+
+Among other customs of the old school, which this lady retained, were the
+following: First, that of never mixing in the society of those of plebeian
+descent, such as Ganguernet: and secondly; that of always being carried in
+a sedan-chair by porters, when she went abroad. One evening she went to a
+ball, given by the first president of the court of assizes, a ball at
+which Ganguernet was also present. She left about midnight, carried as
+usual in her sedan-chair through a pelting shower of rain. At the moment
+she got under one of those loop-holes in the eaves-gutters, through which
+the rain pours down into the street in long dashing cascades, two or three
+shrill whistles were heard on the right and left hand. Immediately four
+men in masks made their appearance, at sight of whom the porters,
+abandoning their charge, took to their heels; but at the moment when the
+noble dame believed herself on the point of being assassinated, a terrible
+dash of cold water upon her head took away her breath, and almost deprived
+her of consciousness. The top of the chair had disappeared as if by magic,
+and the gutter poured its contents directly into the vehicle, the occupant
+of which in vain attempted to force open the door. She beat and thumped
+against it with fury, mounted the seat, and like an incarnate fiend,
+invoked the divine wrath upon the vile miscreants, who were giving her
+such a cruel shower-bath; and who only replied to her invectives by
+profound bows, and the most humble salutations. The worst part of this
+wicked trick was, that the lady wore hair-powder, and the mystifiers
+carried umbrellas.
+
+My acquaintance with Ganguernet continued about ten years. In the low and
+vulgar circles of society which he was fond of frequenting, he was held up
+as the most jovial, the best-natured, and the most amusing fellow in the
+world; although there were some, whose sense of propriety and moral
+feelings were not entirely destroyed, who held him in merited contempt.
+For my own part, I always had a dread of the man. That odious smile,
+forever hanging on those large red lips, singularly annoyed me; that
+imperturbable gayety, exhibited on all occasions of life, troubled me like
+the constant presence of a hideous phantom; that phrase, which he appended
+like a moral to every thing he did, that detested phrase, 'A capital
+joke,' sounded in my ears as doleful and sombre as the Trappists' motto,
+'_Brother, we must die_!'
+
+There was a fatality about the man; and it was destined that a life should
+be sacrificed to his mad propensity for mischief. A day came, on which his
+famous words, 'A capital joke!' was to be pronounced over a tomb.
+
+On the eve of my departure from Rennes, some friends invited me to join a
+hunting-party, of which I learned that Ganguernet was to make one. This
+name took from me in advance half the pleasure I had anticipated. I
+however repaired early in the morning to the house of one of our friends,
+Ernest de B----. On my arrival I found Ganguernet there with some others
+of the party. Ernest had just finished a letter, which he sealed,
+directed, and placed upon the chimney-piece. Ganguernet, in his usual
+inquisitive and impertinent manner, took it up, and read the direction.
+'Ah ha!' said he; 'so you correspond with your pretty cousin, do you?'
+
+'Yes,' said Ernest, with an air of indifference; 'I have informed her that
+we intend visiting her chateau this evening, at about seven o'clock, to
+take dinner there. There are fifteen of us I think, and we shall run some
+risk of having but poor fare, if she does not get timely notice.'
+
+Ernest rang for a servant, and gave him the letter, without any of us
+noticing that Ganguernet disappeared for a moment with him. We set off on
+our expedition. While engaged in the chase, it so happened that Ganguernet
+and myself took one side of the plain on which we were hunting, while the
+rest of the party pursued their sport on the other.
+
+'We shall have some fun this evening,' said he to me.
+
+'How so?' replied I.
+
+'Would you believe it? I have given a louis to the servant that he should
+not carry the letter to its address.'
+
+'And have you taken it?'
+
+'No, pardieu! I told him we were going to have a little joke this evening,
+and that he must carry the letter to the lady's husband. He is sitting
+this moment as president of the court of assizes, and when he finds that
+he is going to have fifteen stout fellows, with keen appetites, at his
+house this evening, he will be in a devil of a rage. He is as miserly as
+Harpagon; and the idea of our laying his kitchen and wine-cellar under
+contribution will put him in such a humor, that he will have no scruple in
+condemning a dozen innocent men, so that he may reach his country-house in
+time to prevent the pillage.'
+
+'If this is the case,' said I to Ganguernet, 'it seems to me to be a very
+malicious jest.'
+
+'Bah! a capital joke! And the best of it will be when we all arrive at the
+chateau. The others, ravenous with hunger and thirst, will expect to find
+there an excellent supper. But there will be nothing--absolutely nothing!'
+
+'And do you think, Sir,' replied I, 'that this will be any pleasanter to
+me than to the rest of the party? And you yourself, will you not be one of
+the principal dupes of your frolic?'
+
+'Let me alone for that! Look you here; I've got a cold fowl and a bottle
+of Bordeaux in my game-bag, and you shall have half.'
+
+'I thank you,' said I, 'but I had rather find Ernest, and notify him of
+your trick.'
+
+'Ah! good heavens! my dear Sir,' said Ganguernet, 'you cannot take a
+joke.'
+
+I left him, and apprising our friends of the affair, inquired where I
+could find Ernest. I was told that he had gone in the direction of the
+chateau of his cousin, toward which I proceeded, intending to give Madame
+de L---- notice of the trick of Ganguernet. At a turn of the road I
+perceived Ernest at a distance, going toward the chateau. I increased my
+speed in order to overtake him, and made so much haste that I arrived
+almost at the same moment with him, so that he had just passed the gate as
+I reached it. As I was about entering, the gate was violently pulled to,
+and immediately I heard the report of a pistol, and then a voice cried
+out: 'Villain! since I have missed you, defend yourself!'
+
+I hastily sprang to a grating in the wall, about the height of my head,
+which opened into the court-yard, and there witnessed a frightful
+spectacle. The husband, sword in hand, was attacking Ernest with desperate
+fury. 'Ah! you love her and she loves you!' cried he, in a voice hoarse
+with passion; 'you love her, do you? and she loves you! Your turn first,
+and then hers!'
+
+The letter from Ernest to his cousin, conveyed by the malicious
+interference of Ganguernet to her husband, had apprised him of a secret
+which had remained hidden for more than four years; and before redressing
+the wrongs of society as a magistrate, the president of the court had
+hastened to avenge his own as a husband.
+
+In vain I cried, in vain I called by name the two cousins. Monsieur de
+L---- with blind fury drove Ernest from one corner of the court to
+another. Suddenly a window opened, and Madame de L----, pale, with
+dishevelled hair, and terror painted on her countenance, appeared.
+
+'Leonie!' cried Ernest, 'withdraw!'
+
+'No! let her remain!' exclaimed Monsieur de L----, 'she is a prisoner; you
+need not fear that she will come to separate us.' And he again rushed upon
+his cousin with such fury that the fire flew from their swords.
+
+'It is I--it is _I_ who deserve death!' cried Madame de L----; 'kill
+_me_!'
+
+I added my cries to theirs. I shouted, I shook the grating. I tried to
+scale the wall, when suddenly, urged on by despair, bewildered,
+distracted, Madame de L---- threw herself from the window and fell between
+her lover and her husband. The latter, completely beside himself with
+passion, directed his sword toward her. But Ernest turned it aside, and in
+his turn casting off all restraint, exclaimed with vehemence: 'Madman!
+would you kill her? Well, then--defend yourself!' And immediately he
+commenced a violent assault upon his antagonist.
+
+I could do nothing to separate them; neither could Madame de L----. The
+unfortunate woman had broken a limb in the fall, and lay groaning upon the
+pavement. It was a dreadful combat. Nothing can express the violent terror
+which seized me. Already the blood of the two cousins began to flow, which
+only served to increase their rage. I had succeeded with some difficulty
+in climbing to the top of the wall, and was about to leap into the court,
+when I perceived some of our friends approaching. Ganguernet was at their
+head; he drew near, calling to me:
+
+'Halloo! what's this? Why, you bawl like a man getting flayed; we heard
+you a quarter of a league off. What the devil is the matter?'
+
+At the sight of this detested wretch, I rushed upon him, seized him by the
+throat, and forcing him violently against the grating, I cried to him in
+my turn: 'Look there, miserable jester!--'a capital joke!' is it not?--a
+'capital joke!''
+
+Monsieur de L----, pierced through the heart by a plunge of his
+antagonist's sword, was lying by the side of his wife.
+
+Ernest has left France to die in a foreign land. Madame de L---- committed
+suicide the day after this horrible duel.
+
+'A CAPITAL JOKE!'
+
+
+
+
+APOSTROPHE TO AN OLD HAT.
+
+BY JOHN G. SAXE.
+
+
+ COME forth, Old Hat! I'll pluck thee from the ditch,
+ Where thou hadst well nigh found a grave, 'unwept,
+ Unhonor'd and unsung.' I'll rescue thee
+ A moment longer from oblivion,
+ Albeit thou art old, bereaved of rim,
+ And like a prince dethroned, no more canst boast
+ A crown!
+ Would thou couldst talk! I'd e'en consent
+ That thou shouldst steal my prating grandame's tongue,
+ And so procure her silence and thy history.
+
+ Time-worn, adust, degraded as thou art,
+ Thine ancient quality doth still appear;
+ And this fine web, malgre thy present mien,
+ (A batter'd cylinder of dingy brown,)
+ Proclaims that once, some dozen years ago,
+ Thou wert a good and fashionable hat.
+
+ Perchance thou first wert perch'd right jauntily
+ A-top some dandy's poll; a most convenient block
+ To keep thee in good shape, and serve beside
+ One purpose more--to advertise thy brethren.
+
+ Mayhap a lawyer, in thy pristine years
+ And his, with thy possession much enhanced
+ His meagre sum of personal estate;
+ And, in phrase professional, call'd thee 'chattel'--
+ A vile distinction for a beaver hat!
+ A lawyer's hat!--alack! what teeming store-house oft
+ Of mischiefs dire; ill-boding parchment; 'writs,'
+ With hieroglyphics mystical inscribed;
+ Invention curious of graceless men,
+ And in sad mock'ry named 'the grace of God!'
+ What mighty 'suits at law,' begot and born
+ Within thy strait enclosure, yet survive
+ Thy tenth successor! And what mighty 'suits
+ In chancery,' (so named from CHANCE, who sits
+ Alternate there and in the legal courts,)
+ Still flourish, endless as the heap of words
+ Which mark the spot where Justice lies entomb'd!
+
+ Perhaps at first thou wert allow'd to crown
+ The 'honorable' head of some grave senator;
+ Or judge astute; or member of 'the other
+ House;' pregnant perforce with weighty matters;
+ 'Petitions' humbly praying to abolish
+ Slavery and 'hard times.' 'Bills' to promote
+ The better culture of morality
+ And morus multicaulis! Mayhap a brief
+ And formal letter to a brother member,
+ In courteous phrase requesting leave to shoot him.
+ 'Notes,' 'Resolutions,' 'Speeches' of vast length,
+ And just adapted to produce what thou
+ Hast wanted many a year--a decent _nap_.
+
+ Perchance an editor, by some mysterious accident
+ Made passing rich with five-and-forty shillings,
+ First bore thee off in triumph; 'tis pity then
+ Thou canst not speak; else should we hear
+ Of much before unpublished; of countless 'bills'
+ Unpaid; of libels prudently suppress'd;
+ Of 'Stanzas' much, of 'Lines' innumerable;
+ And love-sick 'Songs' to goddesses mundane,
+ All wickedly committed to the Persian's god!
+
+ Thou mayst have crown'd a parson, and couldst tell,
+ If thou hadst power of verbal utterance,
+ Of 'the divinity that stirred within thee'
+ In shape of sermons; faithful or smooth-tongued,
+ As he who wrote them chanced to covet most
+ The smile of God or man. A lover's hat
+ Thou surely wert, (since all men love,
+ Who have a head,) and oft no doubt hast given
+ To scented billet-doux and amorous rhymes
+ Thy friendly guardianship; secure from aught
+ Save lifting winds and porter's curious eye.
+
+ At second-hand 'tis ten to one thou wert
+ A Jew's possession, got in honest barter;
+ Next, John the ostler's; last of all, past doubt
+ A vagrant's hat; the equitable purchase
+ Of an ill-sung song. Till quite worn out
+ With rain, and wind, and sleet, and other 'ills
+ Thy race is heir to,' the beggar cast thee
+ From his plebeian pate--and here thou liest.
+
+_St. Alban's, Vermont._
+
+
+
+
+THE COUNTRY.
+
+
+There is something very pleasant in the country, particularly about
+Thanksgiving-time, when families gather together from north, south, east
+and west, around the huge roast turkey, and many pairs of jaws masticate
+vigorously in gratitude for blessings received. At this season of the year
+the bird which was fortunate enough to excite the enthusiasm of
+Brillat-Savarin, and to be the theme of many chapters in his immortal
+'Physiologie,' is the emblem of our republic. A bald eagle indeed! Who
+ever heard of a roast eagle? But a turkey:
+
+ 'The state of a fat turkey, the decorum
+ He marches in with, all the train and circumstance!
+ 'Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter!
+ And then his sauce with oranges and onions;
+ And he displayed in all parts! for such a dish now,
+ And at my need, I would betray my father.'
+
+What native American does not respond _Amen!_ from the depths of his
+stomach to these appetizing verses of Beamount and Fletcher? But higher
+far rises the gastronomic phrenzy of the Travelled, who have known the
+bird, grand in his stuffing of chestnuts, sublime when swelling with the
+bliss-bringing truffle!
+
+And the country is at all seasons a pleasant idea, if properly considered;
+but beware of the man of one idea, if that one be Country, as you would of
+the _homo unius libri_. If you cannot distinguish timothy from clover, and
+beets from carrots; if, agriculturally speaking, you don't 'know beans;'
+he will annihilate you with his rural wisdom. For his whole existence is
+in the soil. He worships things under the earth. Dust he is, and to dust
+he shall return; (the sooner the better!) He prattles of potatoes, talks
+of turnips, harangues about horse-radish, knows no composition except
+compost. Speak to him of manners, and he will answer of manures. Like the
+Egyptians, he worships a bull; and has all the fondness of Pythagoras for
+beans. His only literature is Liebig's Animal Chemistry; his lighter
+reading, the Cultivator and the New-England Farmer.
+
+Such an one was whilom a citizen with protruding abdomen and white cravat,
+who having realized a something in business, exchanges the counter for the
+country; buys his acre or two, erects his manor-house, with a grass-plat
+in front and a tree or two behind; and with a little straw hat on his
+head, a linen coat on his back, and a hoe in his hand, saunters around his
+limited possessions, as leisurely and as frequently as an old horse in a
+mill, perfectly content with his place, his plans, and himself.
+
+Call not upon him unless with double-soled boots and strapless trowsers;
+and choose a cool day for the visit, if it must be made; for not over
+'hill and dale,' but over rock and gully you must march; through ploughed
+land and through weeds, through bowers of grape-vines and _bosquets_ of
+Lima beans; scratched by the thorns of the gooseberry and brushed by the
+long dew-covered leaves of the Indian corn. Numberless shrubs from a foot
+to eighteen inches in height he will point out to you, and name them with
+long names: 'This is the Prota Goras,' 'and that the Demo Creitus;' shrubs
+which, if you had encountered them when alone, you might have eradicated
+as weeds, in a moment of generous activity. And when muddy, breathless and
+dripping, you reach the highest point of his possessions, he will wave his
+hand majestically over some twenty feet of grass, and pointing to three
+trees and a white fence in the _distance_, talk of scenery!
+
+Nevertheless, convinced as we are that the taste for country-places is on
+the increase, we think it advisable to suggest a few hints for the
+instruction of the aspirants after rural felicity. Saratoga and the like
+are no longer indispensable places of resort, but it _is_ indispensable to
+be out of town for three months of the year, if you would not be out of
+fashion during the remaining nine. Select then a bare and stony spot, for
+as your object is employment, the more improvements you can make the
+better you will be pleased, as you take it for granted of course that
+improvements cost almost nothing. On the highest part of this ground you
+will build your house: an airy situation is invaluable in warm weather;
+and then a view is so desirable. In the choice of a style of architecture
+some difficulty arises. You may either have a clap-board Parthenon, with
+Corinthian columns in front and Doric columns in the rear, painted white,
+to flash back the rays of the sun, or which is perhaps more fashionable, a
+Gothic cottage, with steep roof, rustic pillars, fantastic barge-boards,
+and numerous pinnacles painted brown, with oak-stained doors. This style
+looks well in the situation we have described; the absence of trees
+bringing out more fully the beauties of the architecture. It is attended
+with one or two inconveniences; scarcely however, worth mentioning: Gothic
+windows always leak, and the sloping roof makes the second story a little
+_ovenish_ in temperature, and _garrety_ in smell. Whichever of the two
+styles you adopt, you must not fail to refer your plans to some bustling
+little architect, who will be sure to write articles about himself in one
+of the weeklies, and will probably give a drawing of your house, and call
+you the 'intelligent, gentlemanly, and high-minded proprietor.' After you
+have removed the stones, manured the ground, and planted grass, you will
+have a lawn; and after you have dug deep holes and set out tall thin
+consumptive trees, you have a wood. Secure the whole with white fences;
+throw rustic bridges over the _impassable_ streams; sprinkle red dahlias
+and tiger-lilies here and there; buy a bull-dog to set on any small child
+who may be reckless enough to trespass; and lo! you have a country-seat as
+well as a town-house, and can invite your city friends to fill your one
+spare room in regular rotation.
+
+In the important matter of a name, you must decide for yourself; but
+surely with Walter Scott and Lord Byron and the innumerable
+_What-d'ye-call-'em_ dales, _Thingumbob_ brooks, and _So-and-so_ woods, to
+choose from, you can have no difficulty in fixing upon a suitable one.
+
+But, says an amateur rustic, I have no fondness for floriculture,
+horticulture, or agriculture; what am I to do? Buy a horse, and take a
+gallop of some twenty miles or so, and if the horse does not shy you off,
+or bolt you off, or kick you off, and you do not fall off, or he does not
+fall under you, you will probably arrive at home safe; but as you walk
+from the stable to the house, you will quote from George Colman's parody
+of the Lady of the Lake:
+
+ 'Hunter rest, for thou must own
+ _Leather lost_ and empty belly,' etc.
+
+Have you a fondness for fire-arms? Then procure a gun and dog, and sally
+forth before day-light. Walk five miles through swamp and thicket without
+starting a bird. Sky cloudless; heat intense. Suddenly dog's tail begins
+to beat half-seconds; up whirrs a bird, who is out of sight in a moment;
+so is the dog, who indulges in an animated chase. You shout yourself
+hoarse; at length succeed in catching dog, and try to thresh him with
+decayed sticks. A little while after, dog comes to a point again. This
+time he stands beautifully. You walk slowly up, trembling with excitement,
+both barrels cocked. Why don't the bird get up? You glance inquiringly
+around, and at length discern a wood-turtle fast asleep near the stump of
+a tree. Then, if an irascible man, you curse. So passes the day. Now and
+then a bird springs; off fly both of your barrels, aimed at vacancy, and
+hurling showers of No. 8 into space; and you arrive at home late in the
+afternoon, sore-footed from much travel and stiffness of boots, and alas!
+without a feather except a small quail which your dog caught in his mouth.
+
+No more shooting? Try fishing then. Sit all day on a rock watching your
+float, or cork, or _dobber_, as the Dutch boys call it, dance merrily over
+the waves, occasionally disappearing under the surface, when the hook
+catches a weed. Does not even this suit you? Then, dear friend, buy a boat
+of from four to six tons burthen, properly rigged and ballasted; also buy
+a red shirt, a small low-crowned straw hat, some tar to smear over your
+hands, and learn the first stanza of 'The sea! the sea!' to make every
+thing seem more nautical and ship-shape. Hoist jib and mainsail, and
+venture out. After you have drifted a mile or two, it will fall a dead
+calm, and the boat (Gazelle? Wave? Gull?) will float two or three hours,
+the sun flashing back from the glassy surface of the water, burning your
+face to the color of bricks, and almost frying the eyes out of your head.
+Then is the time to sing 'The sea! the sea!' and to take some Monongahela
+to still the qualmishness you begin to experience. At length the wind
+rises, and your boat, after many _yawings_, dashes away before it.
+Suddenly, without any voluntary or visible agency on your part, the
+main-boom sweeps from one side to the other, carrying your hat overboard
+in its passage, and dipping the gunwale deep under water. Agitated by this
+significant gesture, you steer straight for the wharf. In attempting to
+round-to, the bowsprit comes in contact with the piles and renounces its
+allegiance to the bow. The boat drifts away from the landing, and finally
+deposits you high and dry on the beach.
+
+What! Disgusted with this, too? Then take our advice, and like a
+reasonable man, stay in town.
+
+
+
+
+TO AN EVENING CLOUD.
+
+BY A YOUNG LADY.
+
+
+ Thou beautiful cloud, a glorious hue is thine!
+ I cannot think, as thy bright dyes appear
+ To my enraptured gaze, that thou wert born
+ Of Evening's exhalations: more sublime,
+ Light-giver! is thy birth-place, than of earth.
+ Wert thou not formed to herald in the day,
+ And clothe a world in thy unborrowed light?
+ Or art thou but a harbinger of rains
+ To budding May?--or in thy subtle screen
+ Nursest the lightnings that affright the world?
+ Or wert thou born of th' thin aerial mist
+ That shades the sea, or shrouds the mountain's brow?
+ Whate'er thou art, I gaze on thee with joy.
+
+ Spread thy wings o'er the empyrean, and away
+ Fleetly athwart the untravelled wilds of space,
+ To where the Sun-light sheds his earliest beams,
+ And blaze the stars, that vision vainly scans
+ In distant regions of the universe!
+ Tell me, Air-wanderer! in what burning zone
+ Thou wilt appear, when from the azure vault
+ Of our high heaven thy majesty shall fade;
+ Tell me, winged Vapor! where hath been thy home
+ Through the unchangeable serene of noon?
+ Whate'er thy garniture, where'er thy course,
+ Would I could follow thee in thy far flight,
+ When the south wind of eve is low and soft,
+ And my thought rises to the mighty source
+ Of all sublimity! O fleeting cloud,
+ Would I were with thee in the solemn night!
+
+ B.
+
+
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+ HISTORY OF THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO, with a Preliminary View of the
+ Ancient Mexican Civilization, and the Life of the Conqueror,
+ HERNANDO CORTES. By WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. In three volumes. New-York:
+ HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+We have awaited the appearance of these very elegant volumes with deep and
+anxious interest. The ability, industry and taste which the author
+displayed in his 'History of Ferdinand and Isabella,' which won for him a
+noble reputation in the most cultivated states of Europe, still more
+endeared his name to his own countrymen, and led them to look, with the
+highest hope and the most pleasant anticipations, to the future efforts of
+his elegant and fascinating pen. We have for some time known that he was
+assiduously engaged in collecting materials, and preparing from them a
+history of the famous Conquest of Mexico; an event which, although of a
+very splendid and romantic character, was still but vaguely known, even in
+accomplished and well-informed literary circles. The facts relating to it
+were nowhere recorded in an authentic and connected form; for it has not
+been until within the last fifty years that the attention of historians
+and general scholars has been turned in this direction. The labors of
+Spanish antiquarians since that time, conducted as they have been with
+great skill and industry, and under the supervision and encouragement of
+the government itself, have been abundantly rewarded; and a vast number of
+original documents have been accumulated in the public and private
+libraries, which shed floods of light upon all historical events connected
+with the conquests of Spanish armies, or the discoveries of Spanish
+fleets, and have thus placed within the reach of writers at the present
+day materials for lack of which even the able histories of ROBERTSON and
+his contemporaries became meagre and unattractive. The historians of our
+era are making the best possible use of these copious and invaluable
+collections. The first result of their efforts was WASHINGTON IRVING'S
+magnificent 'Life of COLUMBUS,' one of the most polished and perfect works
+of its class in the English language, and which has done as much for
+American literature abroad as it has for its eminent author at home. Then
+followed PRESCOTT'S 'Ferdinand and Isabella,' pronounced by the best
+critics on both sides the Atlantic to be one of the most interesting and
+valuable histories ever published: and here we have, in his 'History of
+the Conquest of Mexico,' drawn from the same rich source, a work eminently
+worthy to succeed its brilliant and most 'illustrious predecessors.'
+
+Within the limits which restrain us, we can of course do nothing more than
+intimate very vaguely the general character and scope of this great work;
+nor are we sure that even this is not quite a useless labor, as it must
+find its way at once into the library of every literary gentleman
+throughout the country, and be read with the greatest avidity by men of
+every class. One of the most valuable portions of the history is the
+extended view which Mr. PRESCOTT has presented, at the opening of the
+work, of the character and civilization of the ancient inhabitants of
+Mexico. The Spaniards conquered no tribe of untutored savages, roaming, in
+the wild lawlessness of the aborigines of our section of the western
+continent, over the sunny plains and smiling fields of Anahuac: they found
+a people there who, centuries before the discovery of the western world by
+Columbus, possessed the arts of civilization, and had reached a point of
+intellectual and moral culture in many respects surpassing that of the
+most renowned nations of the other world. We are surprised to find the
+high degree of refinement which they had reached. The sciences, especially
+of mathematics and astronomy, were understood to a degree of nicety
+scarcely attained by the Romans in their palmiest days. Their political
+organization was of a wonderfully perfect character; and their laws, and
+especially the organization of the judiciary, the department by which they
+were to be interpreted and administered, were stamped by a clear insight
+into the nature of moral obligation, and the mutual duties and rights of
+the members of society, which strike us with the utmost astonishment.
+Their mythology, with the single exception of the sanction it gives to
+human sacrifices, indicates a much nearer approach to a knowledge of the
+true God than the popular faith of the Greeks or Romans; and sentiments
+are recorded as having been uttered by a prince of the Tezcucan tribe,
+guided solely by the light of his own indwelling reason, which were worthy
+of Plato or of any sage that has ever lived, unenlightened by the hopes of
+revelation on which Christians build their faith. The history of such a
+people, dwelling centuries ago upon our own continent, shrouded as it has
+heretofore been in darkness and vague uncertainty, under the lucid and
+brilliant pen of Mr. PRESCOTT becomes more attractive than any offspring
+of the fancy or imaginative fiction could possibly be. This preliminary
+sketch occupies nearly half of the first volume; and we have never read
+any similar effort of the same extent with equal gratification.
+
+We can of course give no outline of the main portion of the work, the
+history of the train of events by which the whole Mexican empire fell into
+the hands of the conquering Spaniard. It is one of the most romantic
+narratives which ever bore the seal of truth. Its prominent actors are men
+of eminent genius, who performed exploits worthy the greatest captains of
+Europe or Asia; and the history of their lives abounds with interest and
+instruction. Mr. PRESCOTT has a most happy historical style, glowing with
+all the warmth and shining with a far more substantial brilliancy than
+that of BANCROFT; and blending the strict truth of accurate narrative with
+the free flow of a fine imagination, all under the control of an exquisite
+taste, with more success than that of any other American writer, IRVING
+perhaps alone excepted. The authorities upon which he relies for his facts
+are uniformly given in notes, and the fullest information is presented in
+the same form, on all points which concern the accuracy and completeness
+of the work. We read the following passage in our author's preface with
+profound regret: 'For one thing, I may reasonably ask the reader's
+indulgence. Owing to the state of my eyes, I have been obliged to use a
+writing-case made for the blind, which does not permit the writer to see
+his own manuscript; nor have I ever corrected, or even read, my own
+original draft.' Mr. PRESCOTT may well consider this as an ample excuse
+for any errors of typography; of which, by the way, we have not discovered
+even one. We were already aware, on the best authority, that WASHINGTON
+IRVING had prepared to take up the ground so ably occupied by our author;
+a fact to which Mr. Prescott alludes in the following graceful terms:
+
+ 'It was not till I had become master of my rich collection of
+ materials, that I was acquainted with this circumstance; and had
+ he persevered in his design, I should unhesitatingly have
+ abandoned my own, if not from courtesy, at least from policy;
+ for though armed with the weapons of Achilles, this could give
+ me no hope of success in a competition with Achilles himself.
+ But no sooner was that distinguished writer informed of the
+ preparations I had made, than with the gentlemanly spirit which
+ will surprise no one who has the pleasure of his acquaintance,
+ he instantly announced to me his intention of leaving the
+ subject open to me. While I do but justice to Mr. IRVING by this
+ statement, I feel the prejudice it does to myself in the
+ unavailing regret I am exciting in the bosom of the reader.'
+
+We cannot take leave of this splendid book without making mention of the
+truly elegant style in which it has been issued by its liberal publishers.
+It yields in no respect to the finest issue of the Boston, and we had
+almost added, of the London press. The three volumes are large octavo, of
+about five hundred pages each, containing elegant portraits and
+illustrative maps; and yet the whole is sold for six dollars!
+
+
+ THE AENEID OF VIRGIL, WITH ENGLISH NOTES, CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY; a
+ Metrical Clavis and an Historical, Geographical and Mythological
+ Index. By CHARLES ANTHON, LL. D. New-York: HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+The cause of sound classical education in America is more deeply indebted
+to Professor ANTHON than to any other scholar in the country; and the debt
+of gratitude already incurred is almost daily increased by the unwearied
+efforts of this distinguished linguist. Beside the voluminous and
+unequalled Dictionaries which he has compiled and published, he has in
+course of preparation a series of the most popular Latin authors, in which
+his principal aim is to adapt them to the use of scholars in our academies
+and higher schools. Another volume of this series, containing the AEneid,
+has just been issued. It is usually among the earliest Latin works placed
+in the pupil's hands, and yet there are few which require a more intimate
+and extended acquaintance with Roman history, domestic habits, mythology,
+geography, and indeed with every thing relating to the Romans as a nation
+and society, in order to a perfect understanding of its character, and a
+genuine relish of its beauties, than this. We doubt the policy, or
+propriety indeed, of placing in the hands of those who are learning the
+elements of a foreign _language_, poems of an elaborate and elevated
+character for text-books. No one, for the purpose of learning English,
+would take up MILTON'S Paradise Lost before the Vicar of Wakefield or
+BUNYAN'S Pilgrim's Progress; for aside from the fact that he would not
+thus be introduced to the simple dialect of ordinary life, its classical
+and doctrinal allusions, its technical terms, and the profound knowledge
+of men, of books, and of nature which it embraces, would render it almost
+a sealed volume to any but those who have already become cultivated and
+accomplished scholars. And although the case is materially different in
+learning the ancient languages, since the object is not to speak or write
+them, but to become familiar with the great works which are written in
+them, it would be unwise if not useless to teach a pupil to read VIRGIL
+without at the same time providing him with the means of thoroughly
+understanding and appreciating his poetry. For these he is usually
+dependent upon the verbal expositions of his teacher, who, even if he
+chance to be well qualified for the task, seldom has sufficient time for
+its proper discharge.
+
+Many attempts have been made to supply this want, and some of them have
+been attended with very fair, though not full, success. COOPER'S edition
+has had the most copious notes, but they are not always accurate, and are
+often upon passages of comparatively little difficulty. GOULD'S notes are
+better, but they are much more sparingly introduced, and do not indeed
+elucidate the really intricate points. The historical and mythological
+references in both these editions are quite scanty; and they must both in
+our judgment speedily give place to this of Dr. ANTHON. The critical and
+explanatory notes to this are all that could be desired. They occupy more
+than six hundred pages, or quite two-thirds of the book, and relate to
+every point of interest or of doubt in the whole AEneid. They are full,
+accurate, and perfectly satisfactory. The author tells us in the preface
+that they comprise the results of all the study and research of modern
+European scholars, and embrace every thing which has been brought to light
+up to the present time. They are very copiously and clearly illustrated by
+neat and perspicuous engravings, which frequently do more than pages of
+description to give a distinct impression to the scholar's mind. The
+construction of Roman ships, the mode of a naval battle, the style of
+conducting a siege, the form of chaplets, of temples, of household
+utensils, of coins, ornaments, and in fine, the exact structure and
+appearance of every thing pertaining to Roman history or Roman life, are
+thus rendered more familiar to the eye than they ever could be to the ear
+of the student. The metrical clavis scans all the difficult lines
+contained in the book, and the general index clearly and briefly
+elucidates all the references which the poem contains to men, incidents,
+and localities. With these recommendations, aided by the typographical
+clearness and beauty which the publishers have given to it, this edition
+of the AEneid must be heartily welcomed by scholars and students (all
+rivalry to the contrary) throughout the United States.
+
+
+ MEXICO: AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS. By BRANTZ MAYER, Late Secretary of
+ Legation to Mexico. In one volume, octavo, pp. 426. 'New World'
+ press: J. WINCHESTER.
+
+We looked through a large portion of this work while all its sheets were
+not yet through the press, and were enabled with some confidence to
+predict that it would create no small sensation in the literary world. Mr.
+MAYER has a free, unpretending style, which renders all that he writes
+eminently _readable_; a merit in which many far more practised writers are
+as signally deficient. The programme furnished in the announcement of the
+work has been well filled up. Many of the ruins and antiquities here
+described have never before been visited or mentioned by any traveller. A
+detailed account is furnished of the present social and political
+condition of Mexico; an elaborate description is given of the antiquities
+to be found in the museum of the capital, and of the ancient remains
+strewn from California to Odjaca. A record is presented of the author's
+journeys to Tezcoco, and through the _tierra-caliente_; and a full account
+of the agriculture, manufactures, commerce, resources, mines, coinage, and
+general statistics of Mexico is given. There is beside a complete view of
+the past and present _history_ of the country, with vivid pictures of the
+domestic manners and customs of the people. The whole is illustrated by
+numerous drawings from the pencil of Mr. MAYER, which have been engraved
+on wood by BUTLER, in that excellent artist's best style. We scarcely
+remember to have met with a work so profusely embellished; and the
+literary and pictorial artist being one and the same person, the reader is
+helped to a far more life-like view of the scenes and things described and
+depicted than he could have obtained under circumstances less favorable to
+the strict fidelity of pen and pencil. The publisher has evinced great
+liberality in the pictorial department of the volume, having expended
+upward of twelve hundred dollars on the illustrations alone. The volume is
+printed upon a fine and white (though somewhat too thin) paper, with a
+large clear type. The work can scarcely fail to attain, what indeed it
+well deserves, a wide diffusion.
+
+
+ SCENES AND SCENERY IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS, AND A TRIP THROUGH
+ CENTRAL AMERICA: being Observations from my Note-book, during the
+ years 1837, to 1842. By JAMES J. JARVES, Member of the Oriental
+ Society, etc. In one vol. pp. 341. Boston: JAS. MUNROE AND COMPANY.
+
+Those of our readers who may have seen a previous work of Mr. JARVES, on
+the history of the Sandwich Islands, which was noticed in this Magazine,
+will perhaps remember the following passage in the preface: 'It was
+designed to interweave with the civil and political account of the nation,
+a series of sketches, illustrative of their present life and condition,
+and other interesting points, which would have enlivened a bare narrative
+of facts; also to have pictured the wondrous natural phenomena of that
+prolific portion of the Pacific, the great volcanic eruption of 1840; and
+a full account of the mightiest of craters, the gigantic _Lua Pele_, of
+Kilanea, in Hawaii. But it would have swelled the volume to an unwieldy
+size. At an early period will be presented an additional volume, which,
+without being connected with the present, will give in detail all that is
+necessary to form a correct view of the Hawaiian Islands, their condition,
+prospects, the every-day concerns of the people, and missionary life as it
+now exists; the two to form a succinct whole, illustrating each other.'
+The volume before us has been written in fulfilment of the foregoing
+pledge. In it the writer has attempted to delineate that which came within
+his immediate observation, during a residence of four years on the Group.
+As a description of the familiar life of a people, in a novel and
+interesting position, one which may with propriety be termed a state of
+transition from barbarism to civilization, it will attract the attention,
+and interest the sympathies of readers of all classes. A portion of the
+sketches have been previously published in journals, and had some
+circulation both at home and abroad. The volume is executed by the eminent
+Boston printer, DICKINSON, and is illustrated with fine maps and plates.
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR'S TABLE.
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR.--We are standing once more together, reader, at that fairy
+vestibule which opens rich with hope and bright to expectation upon
+another twelve-month; a coming lapse of time that like a swell of the
+ocean tossing with its fellows, heaves onward to the land of Death and
+Silence. At such a time, although it seem not meet, it may be, to indulge
+in sad thoughts and pensive recollections, who can refrain from giving a
+backward glance to years that have passed like a weaver's shuttle, and
+woven our 'checkered web of life?' Shall we not for one moment remember
+too, even at this joyous season, the loved and lost who have gone before
+us, to solve the great mystery of life, and the momentous secrets of death
+and the grave? Shall we not remember that _we_ too are passing away; and
+in thoughtful mood, pause to ask with the poet:
+
+ 'ANOTHER year! another year!
+ Oh! who shall see another year?
+ Shalt thou, old man, of hoary head,
+ Of eye-sight dim, and feeble tread?
+ Expect it not! Time, pain, and grief
+ Have made thee like an autumn leaf;
+ Ready, by blast or self-decay,
+ From its slight hold to drop away;
+ And some sad morn may gild thy bier,
+ Long, long before another year!
+
+ 'Another year! another year!
+ Oh! who shall see another year?
+ Shall you, ye young? or you, ye fair?
+ Ah! the presumptuous thought forbear!
+ Beside this church-yard's peaceful bounds,
+ Pause ye, and ponder o'er the mounds:
+ Here beauty sleeps; that verdant length
+ Of grave contains what once was strength;
+ The child, the boy, the man are here--
+ Ye may not see another year!'
+
+While however we give to emotions like these their appropriate vent, we
+are not called upon to forget that there is much that is inspiring and
+delightful in the commencement of the year. The time-honored custom of our
+metropolis has made it a point of peculiar radiance; a halcyon period,
+when heart's-ease would seem to be the general feeling, and smiles the
+social insignia. Then the visit is exchanged between friends whom perhaps
+the departed year had somewhat alienated; old associations are revived,
+and cordialities that had well nigh been forgotten are strengthened and
+renewed. As the lip is wetted with friendly wine, the bosom expands in the
+generous warmth of honest enjoyment; the cold formalities of factitious
+station give place to undisguised welcome and open-handed cheer. The rich
+and the poor meet together, and the spirit of pleasure is with all. As the
+parties go their rounds, and familiar forms and faces appear to greeting
+eyes, the _necessity_ of friendship and the desolation of its absence come
+home to the mind. It is felt that comfort is lost when allied to
+selfishness, and that it is good to be respected or beloved. And as those
+meet between whom the year has passed in sullen estrangement; upon whose
+anger many an evening sun has descended; a relenting spirit obeys the
+mingled voices of Memory and Friendship: the kind resolve is made and
+followed; so that instead of the thorn to goad and wound, there springs up
+in the pathway of the Reconciled the olive or the myrtle. How sweet is the
+sight of human goodness, struggling to surmount the petty passions which
+discolor its beauty, and bending to the benign suggestions of that pure
+and gentle principle, _peace with man_! Doubtless there are many severe
+strivings with natural pride, before these ends can be reached; but the
+new year awakens such throngs of conciliatory sentiments, that it is
+impossible to resist them. The call is made; the oversight or neglect
+explained; the breach is closed; and friendship is paramount! Months of
+reverses and cares and disappointments are lost in that initial day, whose
+span is golden from sun to sun; a lapse to be remembered with quiet
+satisfaction in trials to come. Indeed, a moment's reflection will assure
+any contemplative mind that resentment is the most pitiful passion that
+can agitate the human breast. True, there is such a thing as '_spirit_,'
+but how often is it ill-directed! How often magnified by little causes
+into an importance wholly incommensurate with the object desired! It is
+the province of new-year visits to crush these poisonous weeds of our
+path, to quench their noxious tendrils, and to substitute in their stead
+the balm of friendship and good-will. For such an object the morning of
+the year is most auspicious. The grand festival of our SAVIOUR'S nativity
+has but lately ended, and a preservation of the era of good feeling is
+enjoined both by Precept and Hope. Who can resist such appeals to that
+kindness which increases the happiness of its possessor? With these
+reiterated words of counsel and of affection, let us take present leave of
+our readers, by wishing them in hackneyed phrase, but with unhackneyed
+spirit, a HAPPY NEW-YEAR!
+
+
+THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN.--We wish it were possible to transfer to this printed
+page the beautiful chirography of the annexed communication, which
+proceeds from the pen of a lady who, with a few others of her gentle sex,
+sat out the reading of the lecture upon the '_Rights of Women_,' by Mr.
+JOHN NEAL, at the Broadway Tabernacle last winter, and which was so
+heartily laughed at by the press and the town for a day or two after. It
+is gratifying to remark that _women_ themselves have been the prominent
+satirists of the characteristic absurdities put forth on the occasion
+alluded to. But to our fair correspondent: 'APPEAR, bright Spirits of the
+ancient Nine! (for you were women, and can well appreciate my appeal)
+arrayed in all the panoply of your charms! Thou, MINERVA! aid me with thy
+wisdom! Ye, most lovely GRACES! attend me with the power of honey-like
+persuasiveness! And thou, JOHN NEAL! arrayed in the drapery of the softer
+sex, gracefully to maintain the lofty eminence whereon thou standest,
+assist me with the glorious power of thy overwhelming eloquence, while I
+assert the high prerogative of Woman! Yet when I dwell on the brilliant
+efforts accomplished by thy mighty genius in our behalf, the pen falls
+powerless from my despairing hand, and I can merely point to thee as the
+potent champion of our down-trodden rights! Instead of dwelling in dull
+obscurity, victims to the caprice of men; mending their thread-bare
+clothing and scolding servants--base, unwomanly pursuits!--instead of
+listening in silence to the storms of political debate; instead of
+remaining within the shadow of our own roofs, and gathering around the
+domestic hearth the thornless roses of existence; rendering home a haven
+of rest to the weary and care-worn; instead of slumbering idly, in the
+security of our mansions, when the torrent of war rolls over the land;
+instead of girding then our brothers for the stormy fight, bidding them
+GOD-speed; instead of ignobly bending before the tyrannical power of Man,
+thou, O! astute NEAL! wouldst have us pluck the laurel-wreath from our
+kinsman's brow, and bind it on our own. Thou wouldst have us rise in all
+the dignity of offended 'equality,' and boldly assert the holy right of
+'_free suffrage to all_!' Why, forsooth, should _we_ rather be confined to
+the narrow circle of home than our friends of the other sex? Are we not as
+capable of sounding the loud alarm of war, of mingling in the strife and
+tumult of the battle-hour, as the ladies of antique Amazonia, or the
+warrior-_men_ of our own day? Have we not intellect enough to cope with
+the WEBSTERS, the CLAYS, and the WRIGHTS, in the halls of Congress? Is not
+our dignity sufficient to maintain, with honor to our country and
+ourselves, the various offices of the government? Why may not our superior
+talents elevate us to the lofty station of the presidential chair?--to
+become Ambassadresses, Generalesses, Stateswomen? Surely our intellect is
+as lofty, as noble, and as clear as that in which proud man exults. Arise
+then, Women of America! Study immediately the tactics of military
+discipline; proceed to the green savannahs of Florida; wrest their
+authority from those who now possess it, and deck your own brows of
+loveliness with the wreaths of conquest and of glory. March to the halls
+of legislation; demand from statesmen there assembled the concession of
+'woman's rights,' and desert them not till that 'vantage ground' is well
+secured. Then, ladies, will you be enabled to cast aside with disdain the
+bonds of domestic confinement, which insure merely your peace and
+happiness; to mingle your shrill cries with the tumult of contending
+armies, confounding confusion itself with your loud clamors! You may then
+unite your voices with the shouts of opposing factions at the momentous
+periods of election, huzzaing for your candidates, and gathering all your
+influence to win success for them. So shall you nobly fulfil the high
+destiny allotted you, instead of longer enduring the degrading cares
+attendant on the happiness of your fathers' and your husbands' homes. So
+shall you take by storm the hearts of men as well as the citadels of your
+enemies; forcing them to admire those female 'braves' who so kindly
+relieve them of the weighty burden of their cares.' Capital! This
+mock-heroic is just the vein for a theme so ridiculous as the insane
+crudities here touched upon. By the by; a private note advises us that
+'there have been recent symptoms of chuckling exhibited by the 'champion
+of women,' on the supposition, real or assumed, that the attention of the
+legislatures of several States had been diverted toward 'woman's rights'
+in the matter of personal property between man and wife, by reason of the
+lecture aforesaid!' It is unnecessary perhaps to add, in justice to the
+public sense, that the action of three or four States upon this subject
+had a far different origin, as their legislative records will abundantly
+show.
+
+
+OLE BULL.--We confess ourselves among the uninitiated in the mysteries of
+music. We are quite aware that it is not a little dangerous for one who
+would not lose _caste_ in society to assert that he does not greatly
+admire that ill-assorted compound of '_strains_' which is usually
+designated by the hackneyed phrases of 'brilliant execution' and
+'difficult passages;' passages which Dr. JOHNSON wished were 'not only
+_difficult_ but _impossible_:' we cannot force an admiration nor affect an
+enthusiasm which we do not feel. Indeed, we have always had great sympathy
+for the amateur of fashion who aspired to great refinement of taste, to
+exhibit which, in one branch of art, he gave on one occasion an
+entertainment of instrumental music. While the musicians were _all_ at
+work, he seemed delighted with the performance; but when one instrument
+chanced to be engaged upon a solo, he inquired, in a towering passion, why
+the others were remaining idle? 'It is a _pizzicato_ for one instrument,'
+replied the operator. 'I can't help that,' replied the virtuoso; 'let the
+trumpets _pizzicato_ along with you; they're _paid_ to do it!' Now in
+regard to musical knowledge and taste, this hopeful amateur has many a
+counterpart in this day and generation, and in this same city of Gotham.
+In the case of OLE BULL, however, there has been no call for _affected_
+admiration. He has _compelled_ not only admiration but enthusiasm; not
+indeed by mere artistical 'execution,' although in this he is acknowledged
+to be preeminent, but by the creations of _genius_, which 'take the full
+heart captive.' Let the distant reader imagine an audience of three
+thousand persons awaiting in breathless expectance the entrance upon the
+Park-stage of this great Master. The curtain rises, and after the lapse of
+a moment, a tall manly person, with a frank, ingenuous expression of
+countenance, emerges with an embarrassed salutation from the wing, and
+with another somewhat less constrained, stands in front of the orchestra,
+the focus of every eye and glass in that brilliant assemblage. Pausing for
+a brief space, as if to collect himself, he raises his bow, and with a
+slight motion, beckons to each member of the orchestra in turn, who 'start
+into sound' at his bidding as if touched by the wand of ITHURIEL. When the
+tide of harmony has reached its flood, and is gradually ebbing back to
+fainter sounds, the Master raises his instrument to his shoulder and lays
+his ear upon it, as if listening for his key-note amidst the tones that
+are serpentining through his brain. When to the audience 'nothing lives
+'twixt these and silence,' a strain which has at first a dying fall
+imperceptibly swells on the ear. It is _the_ instrument, beyond all
+peradventure; and from that moment you are 'all ear.' While you are
+wondering why you never knew before that there was such a _volume_ of
+sound in a violin, a passage of infinite pathos arrests your _heart_, and
+you find your eyes moistening under its influence. It subsides into
+tremulous tones that retreat farther and farther from the ear, until they
+seem to come from a mile's distance; anon, they begin to approach again,
+and swelling gradually upon the 'aching sense,' almost overpower you with
+their fulness of melody. This transcendent effort of genius reminded us of
+the phantasmagora, or 'magic lantern;' for what the lessening and
+enlarging figures of that instrument are to the _eye_, OLE BULL'S magic
+sounds are to the _ear_. We had intended to allude in detail to several of
+the performances of this great Master; but we lack the requisite space. We
+can only instance the 'Norwegian Rondo,' the 'Themes from BELLINI,' and
+the 'Carnival at Venice,' as eminently justifying the fervent enthusiasm
+which they excited. It was no unnatural combination of splendid
+sinuosities, of small notes split into hexagonals, and attenuated into
+tremors that were 'no great _shakes_' after all, which entranced the
+audience; it was full, rich tones; it was melody, harmony, that won their
+loud and almost irrepressible applause. We have not yet had the pleasure
+to hear VIEUX-TEMPS, the distinguished violinist recently arrived among
+us. His numerous friends and countrymen in the metropolis rank him even
+above OLE BULL. We are inclined, however, to trust the comparison made by
+an eminent brother-artist, who assisted at his first concert:
+'VIEUX-TEMPS,' said he, 'is a very accomplished _artist_; but OLE BULL is
+a magnificent _genius_.' We shall have something to say of VIEUX-TEMPS,
+ARTOT, and Sig. CASSELA, in a subsequent number of the KNICKERBOCKER,
+should time and occasion serve.
+
+
+A SECOND 'RALPH RINGWOOD.'--We have a western correspondent, a 'man of
+mark' in his region, and far from unknown elsewhere, who has seen a good
+deal of the world, and whose entertaining epistles always remind us of the
+graphic '_Experiences of Ralph Ringwood_,' as recorded in these pages by
+WASHINGTON IRVING. Here is a fragment of youthful reminiscence, fresh from
+his mint, 'which it is hoped may please;' and if it _does_, we will use
+our 'selectest influence' to induce him to write out for us a series of
+papers containing his complete autobiography, which we have good reason to
+believe would overflow with romance and strange vicissitude: 'I was
+raised,' he writes, 'as we western folks term it, in a small village some
+fifteen miles from Boston, and when about sixteen years of age I paid a
+visit to the metropolis for the first time in my life. When I first
+arrived there I spent some hours in trying to hunt up an old play-mate who
+had been bound apprentice to a Boston mechanic some two years previous. I
+could hear nothing of him, however, and so gave up the search. But one
+day, while sauntering down the main-street, and wondering at all I saw, I
+suddenly encountered a strange sight. It was _a sheep_, dead and dressed,
+but moving along the side-walk in an upright position, and apparently
+without help! Puzzled at this phenomenon, I turned round as it passed me,
+in order to observe it more closely; when to my astonishment I discovered
+a boy behind it, who with the sheep on his back was shuffling along the
+walk, stern-foremost. I was still more astonished when I recognized in
+this lad my old and long-sought playmate. 'DICK, my boy!' said I, grasping
+his hand warmly. DICK seemed a little embarrassed at first; but after a
+moment's hesitation, he threw down his load spitefully, and seizing my
+hand returned my grasp as cordially as it had been given. 'For GOD's sake,
+DICK,' inquired I, 'how long is it since you commenced walking backward?'
+'Not a great while,' replied he, with a grin. 'To tell you the truth,
+FRANK, I saw you looking in the jeweller's window there, and knew you at
+once; and as I didn't care to be seen by an old comrade with a sheep on my
+back, I was in hopes to escape your observation by walking in the manner
+in which you saw me.' 'And that was the very thing which led me to
+discover you,' I replied; 'you might have passed me in the ordinary way,
+nineteen times in every twenty, without being recognized.' 'Well, it's all
+one now, since you have found me out,' said DICK. 'But what, after all,
+are you going to do with that measly-looking animal?' I inquired. 'Eat
+it,' replied he, with a comical twist of the nose; 'I have to lug one home
+every day; we apprentices live on them altogether. I'm a sheep myself,
+almost; _b-a-a-h_!' and here he imitated the cry of that animal so
+naturally, that I had no doubt of the truth of his statement. After a few
+moments' conversation, chiefly about home, the clock struck ten, when DICK
+suddenly resumed his load, and after giving me the directions to the 'old
+man's' house, and exacting a promise to call and see him in the evening,
+he started for home. At the appointed hour in the evening, I called to see
+him, as agreed upon, and found him waiting for me. But what a
+different-looking personage from the one I met in the morning! He was now
+very smartly dressed in a small black frock-coat, and drab gaiter-trowsers
+strapped tightly over a pair of nicely-polished boots. On his head a black
+velvet cap, from which two enormous tassels were swinging, was setting
+jauntily on one side, while in his hand he carried a little silver-headed
+cane, with which he occasionally rapped his legs. In my unsophisticated
+eyes he was a very paragon of gentility, and I couldn't help contrasting
+him with my own countrified appearance. However, I had but a moment for
+reflection; for sallying into the street, with me at his heels, DICK at
+once proposed going to the theatre. I agreed without hesitation, for the
+big play-bills had been staring me in the face all day, and on them were
+emblazoned in large capitals the names of COOPER and FINN, who were to
+play together that evening in one of SHAKSPEARE'S comedies. When we
+arrived at the play-house, DICK took me aside, and pointing to the little
+window in the office, proposed that I should go and purchase the tickets;
+'because,' said he, 'the box-keeper knows me.' I couldn't exactly
+comprehend why the fact of his being known to the box-keeper should
+prevent his purchasing the tickets himself. However, I supposed it was all
+right, and so I crowded up to the little window, and after awaiting my
+turn, obtained two pit-tickets, for which I had to pay out of my own
+pocket, of course. Dick took them from me when I returned, and then again
+resuming the lead, he conducted me into the lobby of the play-house. Here
+he handed the tickets to the door-keeper, at the same time nodding his
+head toward me, in order to intimate to that gentleman that I was under
+his special patronage, and that the other admission was intended for me.
+Once seated in the centre of the pit, DICK seemed to be in his glory. He
+ogled the ladies in the boxes, and whistled and shouted and stamped, and
+cried 'Physic!' until I thought he would split his throat. But when at
+last the gloomy curtain rose and the stars of the evening stood glittering
+before us, he clapped and shouted so much louder and longer than all the
+rest, that the whole audience gazed at him with admiration. He would have
+gone on applauding, I verily believe, until the end of the play, had not a
+tall gentleman, with a red handkerchief round his throat, and carrying a
+long pole, rapped him over the head, and peremptorily shouted 'Silence!'
+From that moment DICK was as mute as a Quaker, until the end of the play;
+when rushing out and dragging me after him, he proposed that we should go
+and finish the evening at a celebrated coffee-house, kept by 'a particular
+friend of his,' and where he had agreed to meet some half-dozen
+fellow-apprentices. Here we stayed until a very late hour, drinking and
+smoking, telling stories and singing songs. As it grew later, our
+companions one by one walked or reeled out of the bar-room, until we two
+were left the only tenants, save the landlord. The latter then commenced
+closing the house, and hinted pretty strongly that it was high time we
+were going. I turned to DICK, who had been remarkably silent for some
+time, when to my utter dismay I discovered that he was perfectly
+insensible from drink. I looked up to the landlord for counsel. He was a
+short, _squab_ man, with a bulbous excresence growing out from between his
+shoulders, that I suppose passed for a head, though it looked like a wen;
+a kind of expletive, to wear a hat on, or to fill up the hollow of a
+shabby wig. 'What shall we _do_ with him?' said I. 'Hustle him out!' cried
+he; 'hustle him out! he didn't get his liquor here: I've no room for such
+company!' I then endeavored to put my companion upon his feet, but his
+legs bent under him, and his whole body seemed as limber and lifeless as a
+wet rag. 'You can't do any thing with him in _that_ way,' continued the
+landlord; 'if you want to get him home to-night, you must take him on your
+back and carry him there yourself. He'll be bright enough in the morning.'
+I saw no other way of proceeding; and so, being strong and athletic
+myself, while DICK was of slight proportions, I managed, with the
+assistance of the landlord, to get him upon my back, and then started for
+his master's house. As my burthen was perfectly speechless, I had plenty
+of time for uninterrupted thought as I trudged along; and I couldn't help
+contrasting the apprentice of the morning with the apprentice of the
+present moment. _Then_, though rather coarsely dressed, and smooched with
+the marks of labor, he blushed at being caught with a sheep on his back,
+though he had come honestly by it; but _now_, though bedecked in the
+habiliments of a gentleman, he was being carried home himself like a beast
+on the back of a companion. On reaching his master's house I laid him down
+upon the door-sill, where he commenced breathing intensely through his
+nose, while I fumbled round for the handle of the bell, which I rang. The
+'old man' himself came to the door, and looking down at his apprentice,
+shook his head sorrowfully. Then turning to a black domestic, who with a
+candle in her hand stood grinning behind him, he said, 'Here's DICK come
+home drunk again, Dinah; you must take him up stairs and get him to bed in
+the best way you can.' The old gentleman turned away with a tear in his
+eye, and I also departed, leaving DICK, who had come to his senses a
+little, struggling in the arms of the brawny black, and vainly trying to
+kiss her polished cheek. Thus ended my first youthful adventure in a
+city.'
+
+
+GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--We encounter in our personal
+correspondence not a few comments, pro and con, upon the papers on '_Mind
+and Instinct_,' which appeared in the last two numbers of the
+KNICKERBOCKER. Our friend and correspondent, 'HARRY FRANCO,' among others,
+in a gossiping epistle to the Editor, writes as follows:
+
+ 'I HAVE been considerably interested in your correspondent's
+ paper on mind and instinct; only I rather wonder at his laboring
+ to prove a theory which few are inclined to question. But he
+ does not after all, it appears to me, draw the right conclusions
+ from his argument. All living beings have a mind, or reason, or
+ what you will, which prompts them to do all that their animal
+ functions are capable of performing. In this respect man is as
+ much governed by instinct as a brute. My neighbor's dog every
+ night when I come home walks up to me, wags his tail, and looks
+ in my face, and says in his way, 'How are you?' His master gives
+ me a nod, takes his pipe from his mouth, and says the same. But
+ when a stranger comes to my door, neither the dog nor his master
+ salutes him; but were he to fall into the brook, they would both
+ run to pull him out. Are they not both influenced by exactly the
+ same feelings? If I should ask my neighbor to endorse my note,
+ he would look sulky, hem! and haw! and refuse; if I should
+ attempt to take a bone from his dog, the brute would snarl and
+ growl, and perhaps bite me. Do you see any marvellous difference
+ between the two animals? A near neighbor of mine, about six
+ months since, had a little boy of four years old, who had a
+ spaniel of which he was very fond. One day during the absence of
+ the father, the child was taken ill with the croup; the mother
+ was alarmed, and it so happened that her servants were away, and
+ she had no one to send for a physician. The poor woman was in
+ great tribulation, for in spite of all her efforts the child
+ grew worse. In about an hour after the child was taken ill, her
+ father's carriage stopped at the door, and her mother made her
+ appearance. Her father's house was about two miles distant. The
+ grandmother said that Carlo, the sick child's dog, 'came running
+ into the house, all bespattered with mud, and flew about and
+ acted so strangely that she knew something must be the matter
+ with little Billy, her grandson, and she came to see what it
+ was.' Until then, the mother of the child had not noticed the
+ absence of the dog from the room, for the boy was playing with
+ him when he was taken sick. The child remained ill three or four
+ days, and then died; and during the whole time the dog never
+ left his bed-side; he watched by the corpse until it was buried,
+ and then took possession of the little boy's chair, which he
+ would allow no one to touch, not even the child's mother. Every
+ day he absented himself for three or four hours; and the father
+ one day going to look at his child's grave, found that the dog
+ had almost scratched his way down to the coffin. He was after
+ this kept within doors; but he refused to eat, and in a short
+ time died in the chair of his little master. If I had time, I
+ could tell you a story almost as touching, in relation to a pig,
+ an animal that phrenologically speaking has generally been
+ looked upon as somewhat deficient in the region of the
+ sentiments.'
+
+NOW that our attention has been awakened to the subject, we find in our
+casual reading the testimony in favor of 'mind in animals' greatly to
+increase and multiply. OLEUS MAGNUS, Bishop of Norway, in a work written
+in Latin some two centuries ago, tells us of a fox that, in order to get
+rid of the fleas which infested his skin, was accustomed to swim out into
+a lake with a straw band held high and dry in his mouth. When the
+water-hating vermin had all escaped from his submerged body to the dry
+straw, down dived Reynard, leaving his tormentors 'at sea,' and rising
+again beyond the scope of safe jumping. 'Curious, isn't it?' A
+correspondent at Rochester, 'who experienced much satisfaction in the
+perusal of the article' above alluded to, was yet 'a little dissatisfied
+with the closing portion of it.' The proposition of the writer to 'abstain
+entirely from animal food,' on the score of humanity, he considers
+'especially ridiculous.' He has 'the gravest authority for stating, that
+every drop of water that quenches our thirst or laves our bodies, contains
+innumerable insects, which are sacrificed to our necessities or comforts;
+each ingredient in the simplest vegetable fare conveys to inevitable
+destruction thousands of the most beautiful and harmless of created
+beings. From the first to the last gasp of our lives, we never inhale the
+air of heaven without butchering myriads of sentient and innocent
+creatures. Can we upbraid ourselves then for supporting our lives by the
+death of a few animals, many of whom are themselves carnivorous, when the
+infant who has lived for a single day has killed an infinitely greater
+number of human beings than the longest life would suffice to murder by
+design? Or, if we sacrifice either our lives or our comforts by
+scrupulously denying ourselves the use of animal food, can we derive much
+consolation from considering that we spare a few scores of beings, when we
+involuntarily, but knowingly, are every moment massacreing more than the
+longest life-time would suffice to enumerate?' . . . A REFERENCE to the
+case of '_Rachael Baker, the American Somnambulist_,' in a late London
+Magazine, has recalled that remarkable phenomenon very forcibly to our
+mind. RACHAEL BAKER resided within four miles of 'the house where we were
+born;' and the first exhibitions of her religious exercises during sleep
+took place alternately at the homestead and the residence of a relation in
+its near vicinity. We remember as it were but yesterday the solemnity
+which sat upon the faces of the assembled neighbors, as they awaited the
+signal-groan from an adjoining apartment, to which, at about seven P. M.,
+the Somnambulist usually retired for the night. When the door was opened
+the crowd pressed in. The sleeper, dressed in white muslin, lay straight
+and motionless in bed; her eyes closed, her face white and inflexible as
+marble; and her fingers with livid marks beneath the nails, clasped meekly
+upon her bosom. Flecks of foam were visible at the corners of her mouth,
+and her lips moved 'as if they would address themselves to speech,' for
+some seconds before any audible sound came from them. At length, however,
+in a clear silvery voice she opened with prayer; a prayer fervent,
+devotional, and evidently direct from the heart. When this was concluded,
+and after the lapse of a brief space, she began an exhortation, in
+language pure, beautiful, often eloquent, and occasionally rising to a
+noble sublimity; and then closed with prayer. If interrupted with a
+question, as she frequently was, by clergymen, medical gentlemen, and
+others, she answered it with readiness, and with a felicity of language
+surpassing belief. 'RACHAEL,' said a clergyman to her in our hearing one
+evening, while in the midst of her discourse, 'why do you engage in these
+exercises? and why----' She interrupted the speaker with words to this
+effect: 'I, even I, a worm of the dust, am but a feeble instrument in the
+hands of HIM who hath declared, 'I will pour out of my spirit upon you;
+and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy; your young men shall see
+visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. And on my servants and on my
+handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my spirit, and they shall
+prophesy.' Even _so_ FATHER, for so it seemeth good in thy sight!' The
+girl was of bashful demeanor; altogether uneducated; could scarcely read;
+knew little of the Bible; and indeed in her waking hours conversed in a
+language that was far from being respectable English; but neither in her
+prayers nor in her exhortations was she ever at fault; nor did she at any
+time exhibit the slightest hesitation or confusion. Her answers to
+questions were brief, pointed, and invariably correct. Crowds flocked to
+see her, until the public curiosity overran all bounds. She was visited by
+many persons from New-York; and finally, under the direction of a
+committee of medical gentlemen from the city, was brought to the
+metropolis, where she created a great sensation. A pamphlet was written
+upon her case by Dr. MITCHELL; and we should feel greatly obliged to any
+reader who would place it for a short time in our hands. . . . A VALUED
+friend and correspondent, to whose kindness we have frequently been
+indebted, has sent us a '_Massachusetts Centinel_,' printed in Boston
+sixty years ago; in which, among many other curious and amusing matters,
+there is a copy of an original letter written by the celebrated GEORGE
+ALEXANDER STEVENS, author of 'Lecture on Heads,' etc., dated at 'Yarmouth
+Jail, County of Norfolk,' which runs thus:
+
+ 'SIR: When I parted from you at Doncaster, I imagined, long
+ before this, to have met with some oddities worth acquainting
+ you with. It is grown a fashion of late to write lives; I have
+ now, and for a long time have had, leisure enough to undertake
+ mine, but want materials for the latter part of it; for my
+ existence now cannot properly be called living, but what the
+ painters term _still life_; having ever since February 13, been
+ confined in this town-goal for a London debt.
+
+ 'As a hunted deer is always shunned by the happier herd, so am I
+ deserted by the company,[7] my share taken off, and no support
+ left me, save what my wife can spare me out of hers:
+
+ 'Deserted in my utmost need
+ By those my former bounty fed.'
+
+ [7] The Norwich company of players, to which he belonged.
+
+ 'With an economy, which until now I was a stranger to, I have
+ made shift to victual hitherto my little garrison, but then it
+ has been with the aid of my good friends and allies--my clothes.
+ This week's eating finishes my last waistcoat; and next, I must
+ atone for my errors upon bread and water.
+
+ 'THEMISTOCLES had so many towns to furnish his table, and a
+ whole city bore the charge of his meals. In some respects I am
+ like him, for I am furnished by the labors of a multitude. A wig
+ has fed me two days; the trimming of a waistcoat as long; a pair
+ of velvet breeches paid my washerwoman, and a ruffled shirt has
+ found me in shaving. My coats I swallowed by degrees. The
+ sleeves I breakfasted upon for weeks; the body, skirts, etc.,
+ served me for dinner two months. My silk stocking have paid my
+ lodgings, and two pair of new pumps enabled me to smoke several
+ pipes. It is incredible how my appetite, (barometer like) rises
+ in proportion as my necessities make their terrible advances. I
+ here could say something droll about a good stomach, but it is
+ ill jesting with edge tools, and I am sure that is the sharpest
+ thing about me. You may think I can have no sense of my
+ condition, that while I am thus wretched, I should offer at
+ ridicule: but, Sir, people constituted like me, with a
+ disproportioned levity of spirits, are always most merry when
+ they are most miserable; and quicken like the eyes of the
+ consumptive, which are always brightest the nearer the patient
+ approaches his dissolution. However, Sir, to show you I am not
+ lost to all reflection, I think myself poor enough to want a
+ favor, and humble enough to ask it here. Sir, I might make an
+ encomium on your good nature, humanity, etc.; but I shall not
+ pay so bad a compliment to your understanding, as to endeavor,
+ by a parade of phrases, to win it over to my interest. If you
+ could, any night at a concert, make a small collection for me,
+ it might be a means of my obtaining my liberty; and you well
+ know, Sir, the first people of rank abroad will perform the most
+ friendly offices for the sick; be not, therefore, offended at
+ the request of a poor (though a deservedly punished) debtor.
+
+ 'GEO. A. STEVENS.'
+
+AMONG the facetiae of the 'Centinel' we find a clever hit at two prominent
+official characters of the name of DAY: 'TITUS, a Roman emperor, we are
+told, once lamented that '_he had lost a Day_.' If the commonwealth of
+Massachusetts were to _lose two Days_, it would not be the cause of much
+lamentation!' A correspondent elsewhere observes, that in a procession on
+a certain solemn occasion in this city, the place of the physician was
+immediately before the corpse; which, he adds, was 'exactly consonant with
+the etiquette observed at capital executions in ancient times; the
+_executioner_ always going before!' By the way, 'speaking of STEVENS;'
+perhaps the reader of good things at second-hand may not be aware how much
+he is indebted to this author's '_Lectures on Heads_' for amusement and
+instruction. They were very popular throughout Great Britain; and as
+illustrated by the author, after the manner of 'OLD MATTHEWS,' they are
+said to have been irresistible. It was in this collection that the
+law-cases of 'BULLUM _vs._ BOATUM' and 'DANIEL _vs._ DISHCLOUT' had their
+origin. They are familiar to every school-boy, not less for their wit than
+the canine Latinity in which they abound; '_Primus strokus est provokus_;
+now who gave the _primus strokus_? Who gave the first offence?' Or, 'a
+drunken man is '_homo duplicans_,' or a double man, seeing things double,'
+etc., etc. We annex an example or two of the writer's _individuality_. The
+first is a sketch of a _nil admirari_ critic and amateur, who has
+travelled long enough abroad to fall in love with every thing foreign, and
+despise every thing belonging to his own country except himself: 'He
+pretended to be a great judge of paintings, but only admired those done a
+great way off, and a great while ago; he could not bear any thing painted
+by any of his own countrymen. One day being in an auction-room where there
+was a number of capital pictures, and among the rest an inimitable
+painting of fruits and flowers, the connoisseur would not give his opinion
+of the picture until he had examined his catalogue; when, finding it was
+done by one of his own countrymen, he pulled out his eye-glass,
+exclaiming: 'This fellow has spoiled a fine piece of canvass; he's worse
+than a sign-post dauber; there's no keeping, no perspective, no
+fore-ground, no _chiar'oscuro_. Look you, he has attempted to paint _a
+fly_ upon that rose-bud! Why, it is no more like a fly than I am like an
+----' But as the connoisseur approached his finger to the picture, the fly
+flew away. It happened to be the _real_ insect!' Is not the following a
+forcible picture of a mercurial, hero-loving Frenchman? 'Has he property?
+An edict from the _Grand Monarque_ can take it, and he is satisfied.
+Pursue him to the Bastile, or the dismal dungeon in the country to which a
+lettre-de-cachet conveys him, and buries him for life: there see him in
+all his misery; ask him 'What is the cause?' '_Je ne sai pas_; it is the
+will of the _Grand Monarque_.' Give him a _soup-maigre_, a little sallad,
+and a hind-quarter of a frog, and he's in spirits. 'Fal, lal, lal! _Vive
+le Roi? Vive la bagatelle!'_' Here we have a Materialist proving the
+affinity of matter: 'All round things are globular, all square things
+flat-sided. Now, if the bottom is equal to the top, and the top equal to
+the bottom, and the bottom and top are equal to the four sides, then all
+matter is as broad as it is long.' But the materialist 'had not in his
+head matter sufficient to prove matter efficient; and being thus
+deficient, he knew nothing of the matter.' One of STEVENS'S 'heads' was
+that of a heartless, devil-may-care sort of person, in some respects like
+the hero of '_A Capital Joke_' in preceding pages, who is always 'keeping
+it up.' He illustrates his own character very forcibly: 'I'll tell you how
+it was; you see, I was in high spirits, so I stole a dog from a blind man,
+for I do _so_ love fun! So then the blind man cried for his dog, and that
+made me laugh; so says I to the blind man. 'Halloo, master! do you want
+your dog?' 'Yes, Sir, indeed, _indeed_ I do,' says he. Then says I to the
+blind man, says I, 'Go look for him! Keep it up!' I always turn sick when
+I think of a parson; and my brother, he's a parson too, and he hates to
+hear any body swear; so I always swear when I am along with him, just to
+roast him. I went to dine with him one day last week; and as soon as I
+arrived, I began to swear. I never swore so well in all my life; I swore
+all my new oaths. At last my brother laid down his knife and fork, and
+lifting up his hands and eyes, he calls out: '_O Tempora! O Mores_.' 'Oh,
+ho! brother,' says I, 'don't think to frighten me by calling all your
+family about you. I don't mind you nor your family neither. Only bring
+Tempora and Moses _here_--that's all! I'll box 'em for five pounds. Keep
+it up!' . . . THERE is many a bereaved heart that will be touched by the
+following sad, sad lines, from the pen of JOHN RUDOLPH SUTERMEISTER, a
+young and gifted poet, whose mortal part has 'been ashes these many a
+year,' and whom the reader may remember as the author of a little poem
+widely quoted and admired many years ago, commencing:
+
+ 'O! for my bright and faded hours!
+ When life was like a summer stream,
+ On whose gay banks the virgin flowers
+ Blushed in the morning's rosy beam,
+ Or danced upon the breeze that bare
+ Its store of rich perfume along,
+ While the wood-robin poured on air
+ The ravishing delights of song!'
+
+To us, who are familiar with the painful circumstances under which they
+were written, and the deep affliction which they deplore, they seem almost
+to sob with irrepressible grief:
+
+ A LAMENT.
+
+ I.
+
+ GIVE not to me the wreath of green,
+ The blooming vase of flowers;
+ They breathe of joy which once hath been,
+ Of gone and faded hours!
+ I cannot love the rose; though rich,
+ Its beauty will not last:
+ Give me--give _me_ the bloom o'er which
+ The early blight hath passed!
+ The yellow buds--give _them_ to rest
+ On my cold brow and joyless breast,
+ When life is failing fast!
+
+ II.
+
+ Take far from me the wine-cup bright,
+ In hours of revelry;
+ It suits glad brows, and bosoms light,
+ It is not meet for me:
+ Oh! I can pledge the heart no more
+ I pledged in days gone by;
+ Sorrow hath touched my bosom's core,
+ And I am left--to die!
+ Give me to drink of Lethe's wave,
+ Give me the cold and cheerless grave,
+ O'er which the night-winds sigh!
+
+ III.
+
+ Wake not upon my tuneless ear
+ Soft music's stealing strain;
+ It cannot soothe, it cannot cheer
+ This anguished heart again!
+ But place the AEolian harp upon
+ The tomb of her I love;
+ There, when Heaven shrouds the dying sun,
+ My weary steps will rove,
+ While o'er its chords Night pours its breath,
+ To list the serenade of death
+ Her silent bourne above!
+
+ IV.
+
+ Give me to seek the lonely tomb
+ Where sleeps the sainted dead,
+ When the pale night-fall throws its gloom
+ Above her narrow bed!
+ There, while the winds which sweep along,
+ O'er the harp-strings are driven,
+ And the funereal soul of song
+ Upon the air is given,
+ Oh! let my faint and parting breath
+ Be mingled with that song of death,
+ And flee with it to heaven!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+'WHO hath redness of eyes?' This interrogative 'portion of divine
+scripture' is forcibly illustrated by an anecdote, related with most
+effective dryness by a friend of ours. An elderly gentleman, accustomed to
+'indulge,' entered the bar-room of an inn in the pleasant city of H----,
+on the Hudson, where sat a grave Friend toasting his toes by the fire.
+Lifting a pair of green spectacles upon his forehead, rubbing his inflamed
+eyes, and calling for a hot brandy-toddy, he seated himself by the grate;
+and as he did so, he remarked to Uncle BROADBRIM that 'his eyes were
+getting weaker and weaker, and that even spectacles didn't seem to do 'em
+any good.' 'I'll tell thee friend,' rejoined the Quaker, 'what I think. I
+think if thee was to _wear thy spectacles over thy mouth_ for a few
+months, thy eyes would get sound again!' The 'complainant' did not even
+return thanks for this medical counsel, but sipped his toddy in silence,
+and soon after left the room, 'uttering never a word.' . . . THERE have
+been various surmises, and sundry contradictory statements, in relation to
+the work superscribed '_Count D'Orsay on Etiquette_,' which we noticed at
+some length in our December issue. Mr. WILLIS, of the 'New Mirror' weekly
+journal, seems to question its having been _written_ by the COUNT, but
+expresses his belief that he may have loaned his name to the publishers
+'for a consideration;' and this may possibly have been the fact with the
+latest London edition. The author of the work in question, however, is Mr.
+CHARLES WILLIAM DAY, an English gentleman, whose acquaintance with the
+usages of the best European society is personal and authentic; who has
+observed and travelled much; and who is moreover an artist of a high
+order; painting in miniature, and sketching with admirable skill. An
+esteemed friend and correspondent of this Magazine writes us from Boston,
+that the manner of the fraud is somewhat as follows: 'Mr. DAY is the
+author of a Journal of Travels, which Messrs. LONGMAN AND COMPANY of
+London proposed to publish. As they treated him, however, in a
+dishonorable manner, he withdrew his MSS. from them and came to America.
+In retaliation, they sent orders to this country to have a spurious
+edition published of his work on 'Etiquette,' which they had formerly
+brought out, and which they truly supposed he designed to reprint in
+New-York or Boston. It has passed through more than twenty editions in
+London; a fact which I know, from having seen the Messrs. LONGMANS'
+letters and accounts with the author. His own edition is now in press in
+Boston; and I learn that he has added some 'Hints' with an especial eye to
+Yankee manners.' We have also received a letter from Mr. DAY himself, in
+which, while he 'forbears at present to make any comments on the conduct
+of the Messrs. LONGMAN,' he proves beyond a doubt that 'the Count D'ORSAY
+is _not_ the writer of the 'Hints on Etiquette,' but that he himself is
+'the real, true author,' past all peradventure. . . . A FRIEND lately
+returned from the west, relates among other matters the following
+anecdote: 'On board of one of the steam-boats on the Mississippi, I
+encountered a deck-hand, who went by the name of BARNEY. Like many of his
+class, he was a drinking, reckless fellow, but warm-hearted, good-natured,
+and generous to a fault. In early life he was in easy circumstances; was a
+husband, and the father of several children. But one night during a
+violent storm the house in which he resided was struck by lightning, and
+the whole family, save himself, were instantly killed. His own escape was
+considered a miracle at the time, not even a hair of his head having been
+singed. From that time, however, he took to drinking, and so sank lower
+and lower until he became what I found him. When I had heard his story, I
+felt somewhat interested in the man, and one day managed to draw him into
+conversation. He told me his early history with much natural pathos; and
+finding him in the 'melting mood' I endeavored to lead him to some serious
+thoughts upon the subject of his misfortunes, and especially of that one
+which had bereft him in so awful a manner of his wife and children.
+'BARNEY,' said I, 'don't you think it was a signal mercy that you alone
+should have escaped unharmed from the bolt which destroyed all else you
+loved upon earth? Was there not at least something _singular_ in the
+fact?' 'That's what I said myself,' replied BARNEY, in a tremulous voice;
+'I always thought it was _very_ sing'lar. But the fact I suppose was this,
+Mr. WHITEHAT. The lightning, you see, was afraid of _a man_, and so like a
+d----d sneak, it went twisting about to scorch women and little children!'
+. . . BLACKWOOD has proclaimed in a late number, the '_Characteristics of
+English Society_,' in language of truth and soberness, which goes
+explicitly to confirm the reports of nearly all American and other
+'foreigners' who have visited England. We subjoin an extract contrasting
+English with French society:
+
+ 'WE should indeed be sorry if our demeanor in those vast crowds,
+ where English people flock together, rather, as it would seem,
+ to assert a right, than to gratify an inclination, were to be
+ taken as an index of our national character: the want of all
+ ease and simplicity, those essential ingredients of agreeable
+ society, which distinguish these dreary meetings have long been
+ unfortunately notorious. Too busy to watch the feelings of
+ others, and too earnest to moderate our own, that true
+ politeness which pays respect to age; which tries to put the
+ most insignificant person in company on a level with the most
+ considerable--virtues which our neighbors possess in an eminent
+ degree--are, except in a few favored instances, unknown among
+ us; while affectation, in other countries the badge of ignorance
+ and vulgarity, is ours, even in its worst shape, when it borrows
+ the mien of rudeness, impertinence, and effrontery, the
+ appendage of those whose station is most conspicuous, and whose
+ dignity is best ascertained. There is more good breeding in the
+ cottage of a French peasant than in all the boudoirs of
+ Grosvenor square. . . . 'Frivolity and insipidity are the
+ prevailing characteristics of conversation; and nowhere in
+ Europe, perhaps, does difference of fortune or of station
+ produce more unsocial or illiberal separation. Very few of those
+ whom fortune has released from the necessity of following some
+ laborious profession are capable of passing their time agreeably
+ without the assistance of company; not from the spirit of gaity
+ which calls upon society for indulgence; not from any pleasure
+ they take in conversation, where they are frequently languid and
+ taciturn; but to rival each other in the luxury of the table, or
+ by a great variety of indescribable airs, to make others feel
+ the pain of mortification. They meet as if to fight the
+ boundaries of their rank and fashion, and the less definite and
+ perceptible is the line which divides them, the more punctilious
+ is their pride. It is a great mistake to suppose that this
+ low-minded folly is peculiar to people of rank; it is _an
+ English disease_.'
+
+No doubt of it; and the question naturally arises, 'Are not these the
+proper people to talk about men and manners and society in America?' . . .
+'NEVER mind, my dear,' says Baron POMPOLINO, while endeavoring to fit the
+fairy slipper of the lovely CINDERELLA upon the long splay foot of one of
+his ungainly daughters, 'never mind, my dear, _she is not at all like
+you_!' The doting father, it will be remembered, gives this verdict as a
+flattering compliment. We have sometimes been amused, where the _quo
+animo_ was apparent, with similar compliments at the hands of reciprocal
+critics of literature. Pleasant examples in this kind have been furnished
+lately. A very voluminous critic, very far 'down east,' spoke recently in
+a metropolitan journal of GOLDSMITH's '_Deserted Village_' as 'a very
+common-place poem, at the best, and only saved from utter and most
+contemptuous forgetfulness by two or three pleasantries about 'broken
+tea-cups,' etc., and by one single passage that smacks of sublimity!' Of
+the poetry however of the author of '_Man in his Various Aspects under the
+American Republic_,' he expresses in the same columns quite a different
+opinion. 'There has been,' he writes, 'no English poetry better than his,
+within the memory of man!' A writer in the last number of the '_Southern
+Literary Messenger_,' likewise voluminous in prose and verse, if we
+rightly surmise, exhibits contrasts of judgment somewhat kindred with the
+foregoing, although certainly less violent. The author of 'Man in his
+various Aspects,' he tells us, 'has a _boldness_ that attracts;' his are
+the 'strong and struggling conceptions which seek utterance in new and
+original forms.' He dares 'to shun the beaten paths,' and is not afraid to
+be obscure. His is not the poetry 'which takes the popular ear without
+tasking the popular thought,' like 'the simple common-places of
+LONGFELLOW.' Such 'criticism' as this we have cited must needs 'make the
+judicious' laugh merely, being too impotent to make them 'grieve.' It is
+not perhaps assuming too much to suppose, that GOLDSMITH's 'Deserted
+Village' and LONGFELLOW's 'Psalms of Life,' _simple_ though they be, will
+live and be cherished in generations of human hearts, when the volumes of
+our critics and their client that yet survive the recollection of any save
+their publishers, shall be 'forgotten and clean out of mind.' . . . IT is
+related of the celebrated clergyman, JOHN MASON, that sitting at a
+steam-boat table on one occasion, just as the passengers were 'falling to'
+in the customary manner, he suddenly rapped vehemently upon the board with
+the end of his knife, and exclaimed: 'Captain! is this boat out of the
+jurisdiction of GOD ALMIGHTY? If not, let us at least thank HIM for his
+continued goodness;' and he proceeded to pronounce 'grace' amidst the most
+reverent stillness. It is to be hoped, however, that his 'grace' was not
+like the few set words handed down from father to son, mumbled without
+emotion, and despatched with indecent haste, which one sometimes hears
+repeated over country repasts. 'Bless this portion of food now in
+readiness for us; give it to us in thy love; let us eat and drink in thy
+fear--for CHRIST's sake----LORENZO, _take your fingers out of that
+plate!_' was a grace once said in _our_ hearing, but evidently not in that
+of the spoilt boy, 'growing and always hungry,' who could not wait to be
+served. We should prefer to such insensible flippancy the practice of an
+old divine in New-England, who in asking a blessing upon his meals, was
+wont to name each separate dish. Sitting down one day to a dinner, which
+consisted partly of clams, bear-steak, etc., he was forced in a measure to
+forego his usual custom of furnishing a 'bill of particulars.' 'Bless to
+our use,' said he, 'these treasures hid in the sand; bless this----' But
+the bear's-meat puzzled him, and he concluded with: 'Oh! LORD, _thou only
+knowest what it is_!' . . . A FAVORITE correspondent of this Magazine, who
+appears in the pages of the present number for the first time in several
+months, accompanies his excellent paper with a letter, from which we take
+these sentences: 'Since you last heard from me, I have experienced a
+severe domestic affliction in the loss of my father, who died during the
+last summer. Day after day and night after night for two months I sat by
+his bed-side, hoping in vain for his recovery, until life's star was
+extinguished in the darkness of the grave.' Our cordial sympathies are
+with our correspondent; but sympathy for affliction such as his can carry
+with it little of consolation to the bereaved:
+
+ ----'A FRIEND is gone!
+ A FATHER, whose authority, in show
+ When most severe, and must'ring all its force,
+ Was but the graver countenance of love;
+ Whose favor, like the clouds of spring, might lower,
+ And utter now and then an awful voice,
+ But had a blessing in his darkest frown,
+ Threat'ning at once, and nourishing the plant.'
+
+Perchance our friend may now think with COWPER, that 'although he loved,
+yet not _enough_, the gentle hand that reared him.' 'The chief thing that
+I have to reproach myself with,' writes one who laments a kindred
+dispensation of the SUPREME, 'is a sort of inattention to my father's
+feelings, occasionally, arising merely from the disparity of years between
+us, which I am sensible must at times have interfered with his enjoyments.
+I would gladly recall now, if I could, many opportunities I suffered to
+pass, of being more in his company, and more in the way of his advice and
+instruction.' But he adds: 'When I reflect on these things, it appears to
+me one of the strongest natural arguments for the immortality of the soul,
+and the renewal of our earthly relations in a world to come, that even
+where the greatest possible attachment subsists between parents and their
+children, the mere disparity of years inevitably prevents that complete
+association of feelings, and intimate fellowship of heart and soul, which
+is the cement and prerogative of all other friendships: in a world to
+come, but no where else, such attachments must receive their full
+completion.' . . . PROFESSOR GOURAUD, well known among us for his devotion
+to the interests of art and science, has perfected a _System of
+Remembrance_, which he designates by the term '_Mnemotechny_,' and which
+we venture to predict will prove of the greatest service to nearly every
+class of society. No system of modern mnemonics bears any resemblance to,
+or comparison with it. Such is the astonishing effect of the plan, that
+young masters and misses, after a brief study of it, can with ease answer
+_any_ question from score after score of close-printed pages, involving
+every variety of events, and all kinds of information. We 'speak but the
+things which we do _know_,' in this matter, for seeing is believing. As
+the scene of Prof. GOURAUD'S operations is for the present the city, and
+as the daily journals have made his merits widely known to the community,
+we forbear farther comment at this time upon the useful art which he has
+brought to such wonderful perfection. New classes organize, we understand,
+at the Professor's residence, No. 46, Second-street, on the fourth
+instant. They will be filled at once, and speedily followed by others. . .
+. THERE is an article in the last number of the Edinburgh Review upon
+'_Theatres and the Drama_,' which is replete with wisdom, and evinces a
+thorough mastery of the theme. In alluding to the appeals which are now
+made to the eye by elaborate scenery, machinery, etc., less than to the
+mind and imagination by superior intellectual personation, the reviewer in
+effect remarks, that the first attempt at positive reality is fatal to
+pleasurable illusion. Every person in the pit is aware that the stage _is
+a stage_, 'and all the men and women merely players.' In 'As you Like It,'
+at Drury-Lane, an attempt was made to imitate the notes of birds. 'Suppose
+the imitation had been so close as to deceive the audience into the belief
+that there were birds there singing; would not the contrast with trees of
+painted canvass have been revolting? These were not the conceptions of
+SHAKSPEARE, when he made his chorus say:
+
+ 'CAN this cockpit hold
+ The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
+ Within this wooden O the very casques
+ That did affright the air at Agincourt?
+ O pardon! since a crooked figure may
+ Attest, in little place, a million;
+ And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
+ On your imaginary forces work:
+ Suppose within the girdle of these walls
+ Are now confined two mighty monarchies:
+ Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
+ Into a thousand parts divide one man,
+ And make imaginary puisance.
+ Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
+ Printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth;
+ For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings--
+ Carry them here and there.'
+
+Advice as necessary at the present day as then; for we may enlarge our
+stages, increase our supernumeraries, and engage 'real horses;' but we can
+never make any one believe the stage is other than the stage. The audience
+can realize for themselves. This trust in the all-sufficiency of
+imagination is precisely that acted on by children in their daily sports,
+where from the boundless wealth of the imagination, the rudest materials
+supply the place of the costliest. Whoever watches boys 'playing horse,'
+making a pocket-handkerchief dangling behind to represent the tail, and
+sees them stamping, snorting, prancing, and champing the imaginary bit,
+witnesses the alchymy of the imagination, an alchymy out-stripping all the
+wonders and out-weighing all the treasures of the prosaic positive
+chemistry, so longed for by the present generation. The child 'supposes'
+the handkerchief a tail, and it becomes a tail. He has but to say to his
+companion: 'This shall be a whip and this shall be the harness,' and the
+things are there; not as matters of literal fact, but of imaginative
+truth. He plays for the enjoyment of the game and the exercise of his
+imagination; and therefore the handkerchief serves every purpose. This is
+the procedure of nature. But the modern parent, anxious to realize for the
+child, and to instil a love of accuracy into his mind, gives him a superb
+horse-hair tail, bidding him at the same time be careful not to spoil it.
+What is the result? The child's attention is called from the game, to the
+consideration of or delight in the tail, which, originally meant as a
+collateral aid, now takes the first place. The boy no doubt is delighted
+with his horse-hair tail; but (if it be not altogether superfluous,) it
+will soon destroy his game, so that the exercise, both of frame and
+imagination, is lost; the end becomes subordinate to the means. This is
+precisely what takes place with the drama. Observe also one important
+point: The tail is _real_; accuracy is attempted: but though the tail be
+real, the horse is not; the horse is played by a boy, and only by a boy;
+it is in this mimicry that the enjoyment consists. But how absurd to put a
+real tail on an unreal horse! How revolting this mixture of imagination
+and fact! It is equalled only by that ludicrous practice of placing the
+face of a _real_ watch in the place of a church-clock in a landscape;
+where one may not only see the time of day, but may also hear it _struck_,
+and that amidst painted trees and houses! This effect, except to the most
+literal and prosaic minds, is revolting and discordant. But this the
+modern drama is strenuously endeavoring to produce. 'In opera, ballet, and
+spectacle, scenery and illustrations must be effective, because they form
+elements of the piece. In the drama, where the source of entertainment is
+intellectual, they are merely accessories, and should be used in such wise
+as to keep up the harmony of effect, but never so as to distract attention
+from the drama to themselves.' Here is a passage which is not less
+applicable in America than in England: 'A few years ago it was not
+uncommon to see several performers of rival excellence supported by others
+of ability, all playing in the same piece. It is now a rare thing for
+rivals to play together. A single good actor, among a dozen bad, is deemed
+sufficient. Are we then to wonder that the regular drama does not pay?' .
+. . OUR readers will remember the order given by the Chinese Emperor to a
+corps of Mandarins, who were to exterminate the 'barbarian Englishers' in
+the harbor of Canton, by going down to the bank of the river in the night,
+and then and there 'dive straight on board those foreign ships, and put
+every soul of them to death!' Subsequently however the red-bristling
+foreigners managed to land, when, as it since turns out, it became
+necessary to adopt more sanguinary measures. The Emperor called up one of
+his 'great generals,' and gave him his dreadful orders: 'You must dress
+your soldiers,' said he, 'in a very frightful manner, painting their faces
+with the most horrid figures, and depicting dragons and monsters on your
+banners: you must then rush upon the barbarians with fearful outcries, and
+terrify them so that they will fall down flat on their faces; and when
+they are once down,' said the Imperial potentate, '_their breeches are so
+tight that they can never get up again_!' . . . 'I give you five minutes
+every day to look at the stars, but don't particularize; for some in those
+far-off places send down their light long after they have been knocked out
+of existence, and you may be looking at a blank.' So wrote 'JULIAN' in
+this department of our last number. Prof. OLMSTEAD, of Yale-College, in a
+recent lecture before the 'Mercantile Library Association,' described the
+difficulty of ascertaining the distance of the stars from each other and
+from our earth; yet, he remarked, it had been done. The nearest star's
+distance from us had been measured, and by the aid of light, by which it
+could alone be accomplished. That distance, he said, was immense,
+requiring ten years for light to traverse it! The planets, he had no
+doubt, were inhabited. Of what use was the reflection of the sun's rays
+upon them, if there were no eyes there to behold it? What was the use of
+moons, which the planets certainly have? He spoke also of the fixed stars,
+which seem by the aid of a telescope to be innumerable. What was their
+purpose?--for a guide to mariners? No; for a very small portion of them
+could be seen by the unassisted eye. They were suns like our suns, to
+worlds like our worlds! To the inhabitants of those fixed stars our sun
+appears as a star, and the planetary system revolving around it, of which
+the earth is one, are unseen by them, as are those of theirs by us! Great
+GOD! 'When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and
+the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is _man_, that thou art mindful
+of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest him!' . . . OUR
+correspondent who writes of '_The Country_,' in preceding pages wields a
+facile pen. His allusion to the choice of _names_ for a country-seat
+reminds us of the pleasant satire of '_Thinks-I-to-myself_' upon this
+theme: 'We lived, you must know,' he writes, 'in a _Hall_; not when I was
+born, however, nor till long afterward. My sister happened to have a
+correspondent at school near London, who finding it essentially necessary
+to the support of her dignity among her school-fellows, always directed
+her letters so; for the parents of one she found, lived at something
+HOUSE; and of another at What's-its-name PLACE; and of another at
+Thingummy _Lodge_; of another at the _Grange_; of another at the _Castle_;
+of another at the _Park_; Miss BLAZE, the daughter of a retired
+tallow-chandler, whose father lived at Candlewick-Castle, was continually
+throwing out hints that not to live at a 'Castle,' or a 'Park,' or a
+'Place,' or a 'House,' or a 'Lodge,' unequivocally bespoke a low origin!'
+Is this folly altogether indigenous to England? Let the high-sounding
+names of scores of painted pine palaces not a thousand miles from this
+metropolis make answer. . . . 'IT don't weigh as much as I expected, and I
+always _thought_ it wouldn't!' We were reminded of this remark of a person
+who desired a certain result, but was at the same time unwilling to
+relinquish his pride of opinion, by the note of our Mississippi
+correspondent, to whose long communication we alluded in our last number.
+We _have_ 'taken its measure,' as we promised, and find it quite beyond
+our compass. . . . OUR friend the _Poetical Englishman_ is somewhat severe
+upon the godly inhabitants of 'BOTOLPH'S TOWN;' yet we see nothing in his
+epistle that is not justified by recent occurrences in the 'Literary
+Emporium.' It is lamentable that Boston should be robbed of a decent
+theatre by an epidemic of pseudo-sanctity. MACREADY was compelled to play
+a recent engagement at a second-rate house, down in the 'Wapping' end of
+the town, whither all the beauty and fashion crowded nightly through the
+mud to see him. It strikes us that the '_Purification Hymn_,' alluded to
+by our correspondent, must have been a choice production of some MAWWORM
+of the day. Its reasoning is highly pellucid, and its dignity is past all
+question. 'Mimic scenes, and mirth and joy,' it would seem, 'allure souls'
+to endless perdition! Now against the licentiousness and drunkenness of
+the theatre too much cannot be said; but for 'mimic scenes' dragging men
+to ----. But _cui bono_? 'Your dull ass will never mend his pace with
+beating.' By the by, we are well pleased to see our English friend's
+preference for mind over matter, in the way of _dramatic_ personations.
+Yet England has little reason to boast. What says 'the VISCOUNT' to the
+Chevalier (d'industrie) PIP? 'What's the good of SHAKSPEARE, PIP? I never
+read him. What the devil is it all about? There's a lot of feet in
+SHAKSPEARE'S verse, but there ain't any legs worth mentioning in
+SHAKSPEARE'S plays, are there, PIP? Juliet, Desdemona, Lady Macbeth, and
+all the rest of 'em, whatever their names are, might as well have no legs
+at all, for any thing the audience know about it. I'll tell you what it
+is; what the people call dramatic poetry is a collection of sermons. Do I
+go to the theatre to be lectured? No; if I wanted that, I'd go to church.
+What's the legitimate drama, PIP? Human nature. What are legs? Human
+nature. Then let us have plenty of leg-pieces, PIP, and I'll stand by you,
+my buck!' This is 'the ticket' in London, as well as in 'BOTOLPH his
+town.' The 'legs have it' there as well as here. Meanwhile the sometime
+gallant Thespian is in a sad plight, from having little to do and little
+pay for it. Admirers fall off, one after another, under such
+circumstances; and even the gentle sex forget their old enthusiasm:
+
+ 'Oh! once again we met, but no bandit-chief was there;
+ His rouge was off, and gone that head of once luxuriant hair:
+ He lodges in a two-pair back, and at the tavern near
+ He cannot liquidate his 'chalk' nor wipe away his beer.
+ I saw him sad and seedy, yet methinks I see him now,
+ In the tableau of the last act, with the blood upon his brow.'
+
+And thus he goes on, following his 'occupation' in one sense, and
+gradually sinking lower and lower; until at length:
+
+ 'ALAS! poor rat!
+ He has no cravat;
+ A seedy coat, and a hole in that!
+ No sole to his shoe, no brim to his hat;
+ Not a change of linen, except his skin:
+ No gloves, no vest,
+ Either second or best;
+ And what is worse than all the rest,
+ No light heart, though his breeches are thin!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IS not the following illustration of '_The Affections_,' by Rev. GEO. B.
+CHEEVER, 'beautiful exceedingly?' 'On a bright day in summer, while the
+west wind breathes gently, you stand before a forest of maples, or you are
+attracted by a beautiful tree in the open field, that seems a dense clump
+of foliage. You cannot but notice how easily the wind moves it, how
+quietly, how gracefully, how lovingly, the whole body of it. It is simply
+because it is covered with foliage. The same wind rustling through its dry
+branches in winter, would scarce bend a bough, or only to break it. But
+now, softly whispering through ten thousand leaves, how gently the whole
+tree yields to the impression! So it is with the affections, the feelings.
+They are the foliage of our being, moved by the spirit of GOD.' . . . THE
+annual _Festival of Saint Nicholas_, beloved of all good KNICKERBOCKERS,
+was celebrated on the sixth ultimo at the City Hotel, by a crowded
+assemblage of the members of the Society, and their invited guests. The
+new President was invested with the orange-badge and venerable cocked-hat
+of his 'illustrious predecessor,' and new subordinate officers were
+installed into their several stations; after which ceremony a sumptuous
+repast, served in the well-known style of Messrs. JENNINGS AND WILLARD,
+was discussed with universal _gout_. For the toasts regular and volunteer,
+and speeches voluntary and involuntary, we must refer the reader to the
+daily journals 'of that period;' while we simply add, that from soup to
+Paaes eggs, _schnaaps_, and pipes, every thing passed off with unwonted
+hilarity and spirit. May we live to see fifty kindred gatherings of the
+votaries of our patron saint! . . . 'YOU don't like smokin', 'taint
+likely?' asked a lank free-and-easy Yankee, as he entered a room where
+four or five young ladies were sewing, puffing a dank 'long-nine.' 'Well,
+_we do not_,' was the immediate reply. 'Umph!' replied the smoker,
+removing his cigar long enough to spit, '_a good many people don't!_'--and
+he kept on smoking. We know of _one_ reader of the KNICKERBOCKER, a
+thousand miles from the hand that jots down this anecdote, who will enjoy
+it hugely; and indeed it is mainly for him that we record it. . . . THIS
+is _Thanksgiving Evening_ in the Empire State; and as there is a
+fair-haired, hazle-eyed little boy pulling at our 'sword-arm,' (too
+fatigued with writing to offer any resistance) suppose we read to you,
+while he sits 'throned on his father's knee,' this timely and admirable
+passage from the pen of CHARLES HOOVER, Esq., of New-Jersey, a fine
+scholar, and a writer of as pure Saxon English as the best among us:
+
+ 'THERE is much in the aspect of Divine Providence at the present
+ time, both toward our own country and the world, to awaken
+ gratitude and thoughtful joy. An unexampled spectacle is
+ presented in the current history of the world. It is moving on
+ almost without a ripple. The changes of time are taking place as
+ noiselessly as the ordinary changes of nature. The decay of old
+ and injurious social and political systems is going on like the
+ crumbling of ruins in a desert, by the force of inherent
+ tendency rather than by external violence; and milder and more
+ benignant systems are appearing, not like those islands sprung
+ by volcanic shocks above the bosom of the deep, but like the
+ beauty of spring, or the glory of summer, by a natural and
+ imperceptible growth. Within the memory of many yet living there
+ was a very different state of things. Scarcely a month then
+ passed without a shock, a press and medley in human affairs that
+ amazed and bewildered men, and kept anxiety on the stretch. Such
+ was the history of Europe. Every change was a concussion; every
+ fear a storm; every revolution a convulsion. Not less in motion
+ is society now, but it is like the motion of the spheres, grand
+ and silent; and that silence is the emblem and the evidence of
+ greatness and power in the present movement of Providence in
+ human affairs. The once apparently random and divergent lines of
+ that Providence now seem to be flowing to a common point, and
+ terminating in one great result--the improvement and happiness
+ of our race. Abating much of what has been extravagantly vaunted
+ about the march of mind and the perfectibility of human society,
+ it is still visibly true that the general condition of the world
+ is improved and improving. Vast accessions have been made to
+ science; knowledge has been diffused over a wider surface, than
+ was ever before known; ignorance is felt to be a calamity if not
+ a crime; truths that were formerly contemplated only in the
+ closet of the sage, have become familiarized in the cottage and
+ the common mind; the rights of men are better defined and
+ understood; the power of rulers is swayed within juster limits,
+ and is every where abandoning its old apparatus of racks and
+ halters and dungeons as the means of governing immortal mind,
+ and is silently conceding to it its alienable prerogative of
+ free thought.'
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WE have little to chronicle of _The Drama_ proper this month. _Music_,
+vocal and instrumental, has kept this branch of the fine arts somewhat in
+the back-ground. We have had the pleasure to see Mr. MACREADY once only at
+the Park, on which occasion he personated the character of MELANTIUS in
+'_The Bridal_' with transcendent power. We have seen this fine actor in no
+part, if we except perhaps that of Werner, in which his genius shone so
+conspicuous. He was admirably supported by the scarcely subordinate
+characters represented by WHEATLY, RIDER, Miss CUSHMAN, and Mrs. H. HUNT.
+Mr. WHEATLY has evidently much of 'the heavy business' at the Park upon
+his broad shoulders, for he appears in two or three pieces almost every
+night. On the occasion alluded to, no sooner had the curtain risen after
+'The Bridal,' than we found him making Stentorian love ('in a horn') to
+the 'Dumb Belle' of the evening, in which he excited shouts of uproarious
+laughter. At the BOWERY THEATRE, as well as at the CHATHAM, '_The
+Mysteries of Paris_' has run a most successful career. The OLYMPIC has
+been crowded nightly by the mingled attractions of opera and travestie;
+while the BOWERY AMPHITHEATRE and ROCKWELL'S Circus at NIBLO'S, have
+shared abundantly in the favor bestowed now-a-days upon popular
+entertainments. . . . 'DRESS always and _act_ to please your partner for
+life, as you were fain to do before the nuptial-knot was tied.' This is an
+old maxim, and here is 'a commentator upon it.' A newly-married lady is
+suddenly surprised by a visit from a newly-married man, when she
+straightway begins to apologize: 'She is horribly chagrined, and out of
+countenance, to be caught in such a dishabille; she did not mind how her
+clothes were huddled on, not expecting any company, there being nobody at
+home but her husband!' The husband meanwhile shakes the visitor's hand,
+and says: 'I am heartily glad to see you, JACK: I don't know how it was, I
+was almost asleep; for as there was nobody at home but my wife, I did not
+know what to do with myself!' . . . THE beautiful lines by Mrs. M. T. W.
+CHANDLER, elsewhere in the present number, illustrate, or are illustrated
+by the following passage from WARREN HASTING'S eloquent reflections upon
+the changes to which the SOUL is destined hereafter: 'When the hour is at
+hand which is to dissolve the mortal tie, the soul parts without regret
+with those delights which it received from its sensual gratifications, and
+dwells only, dwells with a fond affection, on the partner or pledges of
+its love; or on friends from whom it seems to be cut off for ever; and if
+it looks, as it must look, to futurity, these are the first objects of its
+wishes connected with it, and the first ingredients in its conceptions of
+celestial felicity. For my own part (and on a subject like this, where can
+we so properly appeal as to ourselves?) although my reason dictates to me
+the hope of a future happiness, whatever may be the mode of it, yet my
+heart feels no interest in the prospect when viewed as a scene of
+solitary, selfish enjoyment. It recoils with horror at the thought of
+losing the remembrance of every past connexion, and even of those whom it
+loved most dearly, and of being forgotten by them utterly and for ever. Is
+this too, it asks, one of the delusions of life? No; for all its other
+passions expire before it; but this remains, like hope, 'nor leaves us
+when we die.'' . . . THE '_Anglo-American_' literary journal has just
+issued to its subscribers one of the finest counterfeit presentments of
+WASHINGTON that we have ever seen. It is a print almost the size of a
+full-length cabinet portrait in oil, engraved in a masterly manner by
+HALPIN after GILBERT STUART'S celebrated picture. If this superior
+engraving is a sample of what the patrons of the 'Anglo-American' are
+hereafter to expect from its publishers, it is easy to foresee that that
+spirited journal has entered upon a long career of popularity. . . . 'T.'S
+'_Stanzas_' await his order at the publication-office. They are far from
+lacking merit, but are in parts artificial and labored. Lines eked out
+with accented letters, in which
+
+ ----'all the syllables that end in ed,
+ Like old dragoons, have cuts across the head,'
+
+always seem to us to come rather from the head than the heart. We shall
+expect, nevertheless, to hear from our friend again, according to promise.
+. . . WE 'stop the press' to announce that Mr. PUNCH has just dropped in
+from England, bringing the latest intelligence from 'the other side.' He
+has lately visited several places on the continent, not so much to see
+them as to be enabled to say, like other English travellers, that he _had
+been there_. 'Mr. PUNCH, having arrived at Rouen late at night, left it
+very early the next morning, much impressed with the institutions of the
+city, both civil and architectural, as well as its manners, customs, and
+social life, which he is about to embody in a work called '_Six hours and
+a half at Rouen_,' to be brought out by a fashionable publisher.' From the
+reports of one of the learned societies, we derive the following important
+scientific information: 'Mr. SAPPY read a paper, proving the impossibility
+of being able to see into the middle of next week, from known facts with
+regard to the equation of time. He stated that, supposing it possible for
+a person to ascend in a balloon sufficiently high for his vision to
+embrace a distance of seven hundred miles from east to west, he would then
+only see forty minutes ahead of him; that is, he would see places where
+the day was forty minutes in advance of the day in which he lived. Thus he
+might be said to see forty minutes into futurity. It has also been proved
+that, in sailing round the world in one direction, a day's reckoning is
+gained; so that the sailor on his return finds himself to be 'a man in
+advance of his age' by one day. This one day, however, is the farthest
+attainable limit; and it is therefore impossible to see into the middle of
+next Week!' 'Mr. TITE, proprietor of the 'Metropolitan Bakedtatery'
+brought forward his new 'Low Pressure Potatoe-Can,' upon an improved
+principle. It was constructed of tin, and warranted to sustain a pressure
+of twenty potatoes upon the square bottom. Mr. TITE explained that the
+steam had nothing to do with the warmth of the fruit, but was quite
+independent of it.' 'Mr. FLIT brought forward his new and improved Street
+Telescope for looking at the moon. It was most ingeniously constructed,
+being to the eye a fine instrument of six feet long. Mr. FLIT explained,
+however, that the telescope itself was only an eighteen-inch one, the case
+being manufactured to increase its importance, in which the real glass was
+enclosed. The chief merit of this invention was, that the moon could be
+seen equally well on cloudy nights, or when there was none at all, the
+case enclosing an ingenious transparency of that body, behind which a
+small lamp was hung. Mr. FLIT could always command a view of any of the
+celestial bodies by the same means.' Here are a few items of law from
+'_The Comic Blackstone_:' 'The statute of EDWARD the Fourth, prohibiting
+any but lords from wearing pikes on their shoes of more than two inches
+long, was considered to savor of oppression; but those who were in the
+habit of receiving from a lord more kicks than coppers, would consider
+that the law savored of benevolence.' 'Unlawfully detaining a man in any
+way is imprisonment; so that if you take your neighbor by the button, and
+cause him to listen to a long story, you are guilty of imprisonment.'
+PUNCH'S idea of '_Woman's Mission_' differs somewhat from other reformers
+of the times: 'To replace the shirt-button of the father, the brother, the
+husband, which has come off in putting on the vestment; to bid the
+variegated texture of the morning slipper or the waistcoat grow upon the
+Berlin wool; to repair the breach that incautious haste in dressing has
+created in the coat or the trowsers, which there is no time to send out to
+be mended; are the special offices of woman; offices for which her digital
+mechanism has singularly fitted her.' Apropos of '_Missions_:' we perceive
+that DICKENS understands this vague verbal apology for eccentricity or
+humbugeousness, if we interpret aright his frail and tearful MODDLE; 'who
+talked much about people's 'missions,' upon which he seemed to have some
+private information not generally attainable,' and who, 'being aware that
+a shepherd's mission was to pipe to his flock, and that a boatswain's
+mission was to pipe all hands, and that one man's mission was to be a paid
+piper, and another man's mission was to pay the piper, had got it into his
+head that his own peculiar mission was to pipe his eye, which he did
+perpetually.' . . . A CURIOUS volume has recently appeared in Paris,
+entitled '_Poesies Populaires Latines anterieures au Douzieme Siecle_;'
+and as sequels to the work, are certain satires upon the avarice and
+corruption of the papal government in the twelfth century, among which is
+the following curious parody:
+
+
+ '_Here beginneth the Gospel according to Marks of silver._--In
+ that time the pope said to the Romans: When the son of man
+ cometh to the seat of our majesty, say ye first, Friend, what
+ seekest thou? But if he continue knocking, and give you nothing,
+ cast him out into utter darkness. And it came to pass that a
+ certain poor clerk came to the court of our lord the pope, and
+ cried out, saying, Have pity on me at least you, O gate-keepers
+ of the pope, for the hand of poverty hath touched me. Verily I
+ am needy and poor; therefore, I pray ye, relieve my calamity and
+ my wretchedness. But they, when they heard him, were very wroth,
+ and said, Friend, thy poverty be with thee to perdition! get
+ behind me, Sathanas, for thou art not wise in the wisdom of
+ money. Verily, verily I say unto thee, thou shalt not enter into
+ the joy of thy lord until thou hast given thy last farthing. And
+ the poor man departed, and sold his cloak and his coat and all
+ that he had, and gave it to the cardinals and to the
+ gate-keepers; and they said, What is this among so many? And
+ they cast him out before the doors; and he went out, and wept
+ bitterly, and might not be comforted. Then there came to the
+ court a certain rich clerk, great and fat and swollen, who in a
+ riot had slain a man. He gave first to the gate-keeper, secondly
+ to the chamberlain, thirdly to the cardinals; but they thought
+ among themselves that they should have received more. And when
+ our lord the pope heard that the cardinals and ministers had
+ received many gifts of the clerk, he became sick unto death. But
+ the rich man sent him a medicine of gold and silver, and
+ immediately he was cured. Then our lord the pope called to him
+ the cardinals and ministers, and said to them, Brethren, see
+ that no one seduce you with empty words; for I give you an
+ example, that as I myself receive, so receive ye.'
+
+The corruptions of this era are equally well illustrated by a very amusing
+anecdote of 'a handsome Italian friar, _teres atque rotundus_, about
+thirty, and extremely bold and eloquent;' doubtless one of that class so
+felicitously limned by THOMSON:
+
+ 'A little round, fat, oily man of GOD
+ Was one I chiefly marked among the fry;
+ He had a roguish twinkle in his eye
+ And shone all glittering with ungodly dew,
+ If a tight damsel chanced to trippen by;
+ Which when observed he shrunk into his mew,
+ And straight would recollect his piety anew.'
+
+One day at a remote confessional of the church he declared an unholy and
+forbidden passion to a young and beautiful married lady, whom he had long
+'followed with his eyes,' and begged permission to visit her at her
+residence. Struck with surprise at this new revelation of his character,
+she evaded reply, being secretly minded to inform her husband, when she
+returned home, which she did, word for word. He told his wife to contrive
+to let the friar come, alone and in secret, the next evening, which
+chanced to be that of Saturday, and the night before the Sunday of Saint
+Lazarus, on which occasion the friar was to preach. The appointment was
+made; the friar came, true to the late hour which had been designated; was
+received at the door, and shown into the lady's bed-room by a servant, who
+informed him that she had desired him to request the good man to retire to
+rest, and to say that 'she would be with him straight.' The friar prepared
+to comply with the direction, and was about stepping into bed, when the
+door opened suddenly, and the lady entered in great apparent trepidation,
+exclaiming: 'My husband is knocking at the door! For heaven's sake slip
+into that chest,' showing him a double one in the apartment, 'and lie
+there until I see what may be done! Meanwhile I will hide your clothes
+somewhere or other, as well as I am able. Heaven knows I fear more for
+your holy person than I do for my own life!' The unfortunate wretch,
+seeing himself reduced to such a pass, did as the worthy lady desired;
+while the husband, presently coming in, retired to rest with his wife, who
+had first locked the friar safe in the chest. The poor prisoner uttered
+sundry involuntary noises in the course of the night, and was in the
+direst terror at the inquiries which they awakened on the part of the
+husband. Daylight at length came, and the church-bells began to ring for
+prayers, which greatly annoyed the captive, who was to preach at the
+cathedral. The husband having risen, ordered two servants to carry the
+chest to the church and place it in the middle, saying they were ordered
+to do so by the preacher; and that unlocking the chest without raising the
+lid, they should leave it there; all which the fellows did very neatly.
+Every body stared, and wondered what all this could mean; some said one
+thing and some another. At last the bell having ceased to ring, and no one
+appearing in the pulpit, or any other part of the church, a young man rose
+and said: 'Really, the good friar makes us wait quite too long; pray let
+us see what he has ordered to be brought in this chest.' Having said this
+much, he before all the congregation lifted up the lid, and looking in,
+beheld the friar in his shirt, pale, almost frightened to death, and
+certainly appearing more dead than alive, and as if buried in the chest.
+Finding himself discovered, however, he collected his mind as well as he
+could, and stood upright, to the great astonishment of all present; and
+having taken his text from the Sunday of Lazarus, he thus addressed his
+congregation: 'My dear brethren: I am not at all astonished at your
+surprise in seeing me brought before you in this chest, or rather at my
+ordering myself to be brought thus: ye know that this is the way in which
+our holy church commemorates the wonderful miracle our LORD performed on
+the person of LAZARUS, in raising him from the dead who had been buried
+four days. I was desirous in your favor to present myself to you as it
+were in the form of LAZARUS, in order that seeing me in this chest, which
+is no other than an emblem of the sepulchre wherein he had been buried,
+you might be moved more effectually to the consideration of what
+perishable things we are; and that seeing me stripped of all worldly
+decorations, thus in my shirt, you may be convinced of the vanity of the
+things of this world, the which, if only duly considered, may tend greatly
+to the amending of our lives. Will you believe that since yesterday night
+I have been a thousand times dead, and revived as LAZARUS was; and
+considering my dreadful situation, remember (as it were with the memory of
+a similar penance in your hearts) that we must all die, and trust to HIM
+who can bestow upon us life eternal: but first ye must die to sin, to
+avarice, to rapine, to lust, and all those sinful deeds to which our
+nature prompts us.' In such language, and in such manner, did the friar
+continue his sermon. The husband, astonished at the extraordinary presence
+of mind which he displayed, laughed heartily at his success; and in
+consideration of the adroitness of the culprit, did not attempt any
+farther revenge; 'but,' it is added, 'he took very good care to shut his
+door in future against all such double-faced hypocrites.' . . . READER,
+what are you thinking of at this moment? 'Nothing.' Indeed! and so were
+we, and of how much a clever man once said upon the subject; observe:
+'Philosophers have declared they knew nothing, and it is common for us to
+talk about doing nothing; for from ten to twenty we go to school to be
+taught what from twenty to thirty we are very apt to forget; from thirty
+to forty we begin to settle; from forty to fifty, we think away as fast as
+we can; from fifty to sixty, we are very careful in our accounts; and from
+sixty to seventy, we cast up what all our thinking comes to; and then,
+what between our losses and our gains, our enjoyments and our inquietudes,
+even with the addition of old age, we can but strike a balance of
+ciphers.' Happy are they who amidst the variations of nothing have nothing
+to fear; if they have nothing to lose, they have nothing to lament; and if
+they have done nothing to be ashamed of, they have every thing to hope
+for. . . . SENTENTIOUSNESS, let us inform 'S.' of Cambridge, and
+antitheses, do not consist of short sentences and inversion of words
+_merely_; and even the most felicitous examples in each case often
+sacrifice the sound to the sense. Here is an instance which is
+unobjectionable: 'I knew the old miser well. He amassed a fortune by
+raising hemp; and if he had had his deserts, would have died as he lived
+by it.' . . . JUST as the sheets of this department were passing to the
+press, we received the announcement of a public exhibition of two
+collections of pictures, which we have seen, and to which we cannot resist
+the impulse of directing the public attention. At the rooms of the
+National Academy, corner of Broadway and Leonard-street, may be seen Mr.
+COLE'S allegorical pictures of 'The Voyage of Life,' heretofore noticed at
+length in these pages; '_Mount AEtna, from Taormina, Sicily_,' one of the
+most noble paintings that ever came from this eminent artist's pencil;
+'Angels ministering to Christ in the Wilderness;' 'The Past and the
+Present;' 'A View of Ruined Aqueducts in the Campagna di Roma,' and other
+pictures; altogether, an exceedingly fine collection. Indeed, the superb
+view of AEtna alone, with its vast and sublime accessories, is of itself an
+exhibition worth twice the price of admission. At the rooms of the APOLLO
+ASSOCIATION, nearly opposite the Hospital, in Broadway, Mr. HARVEY'S
+series of _Forty Historic or Atmospheric American Landscape Scenes_ are to
+be seen for a short time. It needed not the high patronage of Queen
+VICTORIA, the praises of English royalty and nobility, nor the warm
+encomiums of ALLSTON, SULLY, MOORE, and others, to secure attention to
+these graphic sketches from nature. They are their own best
+recommendation. Trust our verdict, reader, and go and _see_ if they are
+not. . . . 'TERPSICHORE' is the title of a very spirited satirical poem
+read at the annual dinner of the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Cambridge
+University in August last, by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, and copied in
+'_Graham's Magazine_' for January. We subjoin a passage which although
+abundantly poetical contains yet more truth than poetry. It 'bases' upon
+the DICKENS dinner:
+
+ HE for whose sake the glittering show appears
+ Has sown the world with laughter and with tears,
+ And they whose welcome wets the bumper's brim
+ Have wit and wisdom--for they all quote him.
+ So, many a tongue the evening hour prolongs
+ With spangled speeches, let alone the songs;
+ Statesmen grow merry, young attorneys laugh,
+ And weak teetotals warm to half-and-half,
+ And beardless Tullys, new to festive scenes,
+ Cut their first crop of youth's precocious greens;
+ And wits stand ready for impromptu claps,
+ With loaded barrels and percussion-caps;
+ And Pathos, cantering through the minor keys,
+ Waves all her onions to the trembling breeze;
+ While the great Feasted views with silent glee
+ His scattered limbs in Yankee fricassee.
+
+ Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays
+ The pleasing game of interchanging praise;
+ Self-love, grimalkin of the human heart,
+ Is ever pliant to the master's art;
+ Soothed with a word, she peacefully withdraws
+ And sheaths in velvet her obnoxious claws,
+ And thrills the hand that smooths her glossy fur
+ With the light tremor of her gentle pur.
+
+ But what sad music fills the quiet hall
+ If on her back a feline rival fall!
+ And oh! what noises shake the tranquil house,
+ If old SELF-INTEREST cheats her of a mouse!
+
+ Thou, O my country! hast thy foolish ways,
+ Too apt to pur at every stranger's praise:
+ But if the stranger touch thy modes or laws,
+ Off goes the velvet and out come the claws!
+
+ And thou, Illustrious! but too poorly paid
+ In toasts from Pickwick for thy great crusade,
+ Though while the echoes labored with thy name
+ The public trap denied thy little game,
+ Let other lips our jealous laws revile--
+ The marble TALFOURD or the rude CARLYLE;
+ But on thy lids, that Heaven forbids to close
+ Where'er the light of kindly nature glows,
+ Let not the dollars that a churl denies
+ Weigh like the shillings on a dead man's eyes!
+ Or, if thou wilt, be more discreetly blind,
+ Nor ask to see all wide extremes combined;
+ Not in our wastes the dainty blossoms smile
+ That crowd the gardens of thy scanty isle;
+ There white-cheek'd Luxury weaves a thousand charms,
+ Here sun-browned Labor swings his Cyclop arms;
+ Long are the furrows he must trace between
+ The ocean's azure and the prairies' green;
+ Full many a blank his destined realm displays,
+ Yet see the promise of his riper days:
+ Far through yon depths the panting engine moves,
+ His chariots ringing in their steel-shod groves,
+ And Erie's naiad flings her diamond wave
+ O'er the wild sea-nymph in her distant cave:
+ While tasks like these employ his anxious hours,
+ What if his corn-fields are not edged with flowers?
+ Though bright as silver the meridian beams
+ Shine through the crystal of thine English streams,
+ Turbid and dark the mighty wave is whirled
+ That drains our Andes and divides a world.
+
+Under the similitude of a _German-silver-spoon_, 'used by dabblers in
+aesthetic tea,' we have the annexed palpable hit at the small-beer
+imitators of CARLYLE, and copyists after the external garb of the German
+school, who have occasionally shown themselves up in the pages of 'The
+Dial,' a work which formerly 'indicated rather the place of the moon than
+the sun:'
+
+ SMALL as it is, its powers are passing strange;
+ For all who use it show a wondrous change,
+ And first, a fact to make the barbers stare,
+ It beats Macassar for the growth of hair:
+ See those small youngsters whose expansive ears
+ Maternal kindness grazed with frequent shears;
+ Each bristling crop a dangling mass becomes,
+ And all the spoonies turn to Absaloms!
+ Nor this alone its magic power displays--
+ It alters strangely all their works and ways;
+ With uncouth words they tire their tender lungs,
+ The same bald phrases on their hundred tongues;
+ 'Ever' 'The Ages' in their page appear,
+ 'Alway' the bedlamite is called a 'Seer;'
+ On every leaf the 'earnest' sage may scan,
+ Portentious bore! their 'many-sided' man;
+ A weak eclectic, groping, vague and dim,
+ Whose every angle is a half-starved whim,
+ Blind as a mole and curious as a lynx,
+ Who rides a beetle which he calls a 'Sphinx.'
+
+ And O what questions asked in club-foot rhyme
+ Of Earth the tongueless and the deaf-mute Time!
+ Here babbling 'Insight' shouts in Nature's ears
+ His last conundrum on the orbs and spheres;
+ There Self-inspection sucks its little thumb,
+ With 'Whence am I?' and 'Wherefore did I come?'
+ Deluded infants! will they ever know
+ Some doubts must darken o'er the world below,
+ Though all the Platos of the nursery trail
+ Their 'clouds of glory' at the go-cart's tail?
+
+We should exceedingly like to hear Mr. A. BRONSON ALCOTT'S opinion as
+touching the _faithfulness_ of the foregoing. . . . THERE is a fearful
+lesson conveyed in the annexed communication from a metropolitan
+physician, who assures us that it is in all respects an accurate statement
+of an occurrence to which he was an eye-witness: 'Duty impels me, Mr.
+EDITOR, to lay before you one of the little incidents which my situation
+as a medical man has brought to my notice. There is no class of men who
+are led with keener perceptions to investigate human nature than
+enlightened practising physicians. They have a hold upon the affections
+and confidence of every class of society; and for this reason they should
+feel it incumbent upon themselves to act the part of _moral_ as well as
+_physical_ agents. For myself, I think it would be well if medical men
+were so far constituted missionaries, as to make it a duty to point a
+moral whenever it would be likely to be well received. I am aware that
+attempts of this sort with many persons would be vain or injudicious, and
+sometimes nauseate perhaps, like the accompanying drugs; but eventually it
+might prove salutary to the soul; and although cursed for good advice, is
+it not in the end a blessing? But to my story: I was called a short time
+since to a youth about twenty years of age: he had been only a few months
+in the city, and I had occasionally seen him, but had little acquaintance
+with him, being much his senior. When I entered, one of his fits of
+raving, occasioned by fever, was just coming on. I approached and took his
+hand: 'What do you want?' said he; 'you look so mild and yet so
+penetrating. I have not got any.' 'Any _what_?' said I. 'Any money,' he
+replied; 'the drawer was locked, and I could not get any without being
+seen; so go away!' 'I came to cure you, not to take your money,' I
+replied. 'Ah!' said he, 'did I not take some from you? Look! look! There
+they come! sixpences, shillings! See! see! how they tumble from the wall!
+Look! there is a piece of gold! See! look! there they keep coming! I
+never took all this!--at first I only took enough to get a cigar with, now
+and then. See! the room is filling! I shall suffocate!' 'What does this
+mean, young man?' said I; 'be calm.' 'Did they not tell you to _come and
+feel my pulse and see if there was not a sixpence in it_?' 'No, no; I came
+to make you better.' 'Better? _better_? BETTER? Here, hide these; don't
+let my friends know of them; they were stolen! I cannot look at them now.
+Ha! ha! ha!--I cannot!' I was induced to remain until the frenzy of the
+fever had passed off, and found the young man had intervals of reason. He
+was now in deep despondency. I inquired his name. He had dropped it, he
+said; he could not debase it. 'Debase it?' said I. 'Yes!' he answered,
+with a groan like a howl. The next day the young man sent for me again. He
+appeared much altered; said that he did not wish to live; that he had '_a
+gnawing at his soul_.' I remarked that he was very young to be tired of
+life; that if he had been guilty of any crime he should desire to live to
+expiate it. 'No,' he replied, 'the stain will always last!' I told him,
+not so; that if he heartily repented and turned to the right source for
+consolation, it would be vouchsafed him. 'I feel that I cannot live,' he
+replied, 'and my friends will be better satisfied to know that I am
+repentant in my last moments, and that I am gone, than they would be to
+think of me as a vagabond, let loose upon society: they will at least feel
+that I shall 'cease from troubling.' I have not the excuse that many
+delinquents have pleaded, early initiation into vice. My childhood was
+passed with pious relatives, who labored to instil religious principles
+into my mind; but I 'would none of their reproof.' My friends not being
+wealthy, I was left at a proper age to my own resources. I found a
+situation where my talents were appreciated by my employer, and perhaps
+too highly estimated by myself. I had a brother who was ten years my
+senior, whom I loved and esteemed--may Heaven keep him in blessed
+ignorance of my fate!--but I thought less highly of his intellect when I
+saw him excited by some sublime hymn, which angels might listen to, than I
+did of my own, when I turned from the devotions of the Sabbath to join my
+idle companions. In the situation I held, I might have gained
+respectability; but my besetting sin betrayed me so often, that the kind
+indulgence of a good master could no longer conceal my crimes. I now see
+that the sting inflicted by vice must and _will_ remain! We may repent, we
+may be forgiven; but the mind will not part with its bitter
+recollections!' I was here called away for a few moments, and when I
+returned, the unhappy young man was in the land of spirits! I learned that
+he was engaged to a highly amiable young lady, who relinquished him, and
+shortly afterward died of a broken heart. _Her_ sad fate threw him into a
+brain-fever, and as you perceive, decided _his_ likewise. Incidents like
+these I am aware have often been narrated; yet if the tragedy which I have
+depicted should be blessed to the use of any young man abandoned to
+temptation and addicted to small crimes, and lead him to reflection, it
+will be a gratification to feel that my feeble effort, with Heaven's help,
+has proved 'a word in season.'' . . . THERE are inequalities of merit in
+the '_Dirge_' of 'D. D.' of Hartford, though the _spirit_ of the verse is
+tender and touching. We annex a few stanzas, in illustration of our
+encomium:
+
+ THRUST him in his narrow bed,
+ Heap the cold earth on his head,
+ But be sure no tear ye shed--
+ Not a tear for him!
+
+ Bitter toil was his from birth,
+ Dearly bought his homely mirth,
+ While his master was of earth--
+ Now he's of the sky.
+
+ Death knocked at his door at night,
+ With his crushing hand of might,
+ Woke him to that morning light
+ Which can know no noon!
+
+ When that sacred morning beam
+ Wakes his spirit, life shall seem
+ But a dreary changeful dream--
+ Soon o'er, and not too soon!
+
+ Patiently for few long years,
+ Struggling with earth's giant fears,
+ With hands too busy to wipe tears,
+ Met he life's long shock.
+
+ Yet not all blank and desolate
+ Was this poor man's earthly state;
+ Hope, toil, content, can soften fate,
+ As the moss the rock.
+
+ O! lost Brother! still and cold,
+ Sunk like rain into the mould,
+ Silently, unseen, untold--
+ Thou 'rt a GOD-sown seed!
+
+
+It is a sad sight to look upon the corpse of a laborer, cut down in the
+midst of a toilsome life; his hard, knotty hands clasped upon the still
+breast, and the strong limbs laid in serene repose. And yet how happy the
+change! No longer does he ask leave to toil; no longer is he at war with
+poverty, for death has made it a drawn battle. He 'rests from his labors'
+where the rich and the poor meet together, and he hears no more the voice
+of the oppressor. . . . PERHAPS our readers will have observed that the
+_Sketches of East Florida_ are from no common pen. The description which
+has been given by the writer, of the delicious climate in that sunny
+region, may to many 'Northeners' seem exaggerated; but such is not the
+fact. A friend writing recently from St. Augustine, thus playfully alludes
+to the effect which the climate produces upon a New-Yorker: 'If a
+business-man could be caught up from the whirl of Broadway, and dropped in
+a warm climate, say that of St. Augustine, and left under a fig-tree to
+his own reflections, his first thought doubtless would be for an omnibus
+'right up.' 'Rather queer!' he would say; 'a hot sun, sandy street, and
+not a carriage to be seen! There's a man out in his slippers, and a woman
+with her head tied up in a handkerchief--may-be a night-cap; probably some
+old Dutch settlers that went to-sleep with RIP VAN WINKLE. Wild turkeys,
+as I live, all about the market!--and oh, LORD! there's a little nigger
+with only a shirt on! Halloo there! you little nigger! tell me the way to
+the Broadway coaches! No coaches? no omnibii? Well, where's your
+five-o'clock boats?--where's your Harlaem rail-road? I want to go back to
+town!' Such would probably be his first go-off; and the next impulse would
+be to run, shout, cry fire! or murder!--any thing to produce a sensation;
+but unless very soon about it, he would find himself yielding to some
+strange influence hitherto unfelt; and it would be amusing to notice how
+soon the fretting restless man of the forty-second latitude would be tamed
+down in the thirteenth to the equanimity of a child asleep. The climate
+enters within the man, and brings out one by one some hidden and better
+impulse, at the same time laying a gentle hand upon his rougher humors; so
+that when he would shout, he hums, and when he would laugh, he smiles
+only; and in undertaking to run, he is caught about the waist; and goes
+floating smoothly around in the ground-swell motion of the Spanish-dance.'
+. . . WE perceive that the _Copy-right Question_ has been thus early
+brought before the National Legislature. From the present aspect of things
+we may indulge a well-grounded hope that authors who have worn themselves
+out in making other people happy, will not hereafter be left to perish
+amidst age and infirmity, unrelieved by the fruit of their labors. There
+is one argument exceedingly well illustrated in the recent address of the
+'Copy-right Club.' In allusion to the floods of trash which have for
+months inundated the Atlantic cities and towns, the writer, addressing
+himself to American citizens, observes: 'In all other circumstances and
+questions save that of a literature, you have taken the high ground of
+freedom and self-reliance. You have neither asked, nor loaned, nor
+besought, but with your own hands have framed, what the occasion required.
+Whatever stature you have grown to as a nation, it is due to that sole
+virtue; and by its exercise may you only hope to hold your place. In
+almost any other shape than that of silent books you would have spurned
+the foreign and held fast to the home-born; but stealing in quietly at
+every opening, making themselves the seemingly inoffensive and unobtrusive
+lodgers in every house, they have full possession of the country in all
+its parts; and another people may promise themselves in the next
+generation of Americans, (as the question now goes,) a restored dominion
+which their arms were not able to keep. The pamphlet will carry the day
+where the soldier fell back.' . . . WE derive the annexed stanzas through
+a Boston correspondent. He assures us that the work of art which they
+commemorate is most honorable to the genius of the sculptor, who has been
+winning laurels ever since his removal to the tasteful city:
+
+
+LINES
+
+WRITTEN ON COMPLETING A MARBLE BUST OF THE LATE WASHINGTON ALLSTON.
+
+BY M. A. BRACKETT.
+
+ UPWARD unto the living light
+ Intensely thou dost gaze,
+ As if thy very soul wouldst seek
+ In that far distant maze
+
+ Communion with those heavenly forms
+ That lifting to the sight
+ Their golden wings and snowy robes,
+ Float on a sea of light.
+
+ Anon far, far away they glide,
+ Shooting through realms of bliss,
+ Till from the spirit's eye they fade
+ In heaven's own bright abyss.
+
+ Such are the visions thou dost wake,
+ Such are the thoughts that rise
+ In him who 'neath thy upturned brow
+ Beholds thy spirit-eyes.
+
+ There is no stain upon that brow;
+ Pure as thy holy life
+ Serene and calm, thy heavenly face--
+ Within, no wasting strife.
+
+ How strangely have the swift hours flown
+ As o'er the shapeless pile
+ I poured the full strength of my soul,
+ Lost to all else the while!
+
+ When fell the last faint stroke which told
+ That thou and I must part,
+ That all of life that I could give
+ Was thine, how throbbed my heart!
+
+ Yet to this form that I have reared
+ Should aught of praise belong,
+ Not unto me the merit due,
+ But Him who made me strong:
+
+ Who with his ever fostering care
+ My wayward steps did guide,
+ Through paths of flowers, in beauty cloth'd,
+ Along life's sunny tide.
+
+ Semblance of him, the great, the good,
+ Whose task on earth is done;
+ Of those that walked in beauty's light
+ Thou wert the chosen one!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WE should like to see in some appropriate journal a sketch of the
+_Progress of Mechanics in the United States_. Without any question, the
+Americans are, in respect of that branch of science, behind no nation or
+people on earth. And yet no longer ago than 1791, a clock-maker from
+London, after public advertisement of his arrival from England for that
+purpose, visited our scattered cities and towns to repair clocks! 'Yankee
+ingenuity' was not then as now synonymous with the accomplishment of _any_
+thing that can either be fabricated or 'fixed'. . . . WE have no
+remembrance of the communication referred to in a note from a
+correspondent at Albany, in which we find the following sentences: 'If
+received, I hope it was not amenable to the censure in a late number of
+the KNICKERBOCKER, of certain correspondence, for having been written 'too
+carefully.' Now I do flatter myself upon so _writing_, that compositors
+can have no excuse for blunders, though I am well aware that to be
+esteemed a Genious, one's chirography should very nearly approach
+unintelligibility. If this be true, the patience and good nature of an
+Editor must be severely tried; but I incline to the opinion that a man of
+Genious need not model after BYRON's facsimile,' and so forth. Our
+correspondent _does_ write a good hand; so good indeed, that we lament, as
+we gaze at it, that he does not know how to _spell_. A man may certainly
+be a '_Genious_' without being able to write a clerkly hand; but a man who
+is _not_ a 'Genious,' ought at least to be able to spell the word. As to
+writing 'too carefully,' our censor has mistaken the letter for the spirit
+of our remarks. . . . THE lines '_To my Mother_' are replete with the
+poetry of _feeling_. Their literary execution however is marred by
+deficiencies, which although slight, require amending. Our correspondent
+we are sure has the true poetical vein; and we shall not despair of
+hearing from her again. . . . A VERY 'inquiring' correspondent desires to
+know 'whether there is any thing below a _quartette_, in music?--a
+_pintette_ or a _gillette_?' He is also anxious, he says, to 'ascertain
+whether PUFFER HOPKINS is any relation to the pious poet who was in
+partnership in the psalm and hymn way with old Uncle STERNHOLD, a great
+many years ago.' Moreover, he considers it 'a little curious' that a black
+hen should lay a white egg; and states that he 'would give something
+handsome to be certain whether or no NEBUCHADNEZZAR'S hands, when he was
+out on grass, grew six-penny or ten-penny nails!' His remaining queries
+are profane; indeed, the last one goes somewhat too near the edge. . . .
+'EVER anxious to please,' as the advertisements have it, we have placed
+the original department of the KNICKERBOCKER in a larger type; and it
+seems to us that we may ask with some confidence whether our readers ever
+saw a Magazine in a neater garniture than 'this same?' Only have the
+consideration to _reciprocate_ our endeavors to please you, good PUBLIC,
+and you 'shall see what you shall see.' There are certain delinquents upon
+our books, to whom we would venture to insinuate, in the most delicate
+manner conceivable, that 'it is high time somebody had a sight of
+somebody's money.' . . . A NEW style of frames for drawings, engravings,
+paintings, looking-glasses, etc., has recently been brought to great
+perfection, and into very general favor, by Mr. WEISER, at No. 43
+Centre-street, near Pearl. They are composed externally of
+_glass-veneerings_, beautifully painted and shaded, so as to resemble
+different-tinted woods, tortoise-shell, or indeed any other colors that
+may be desired. These are painted on the inner side of the glass, which is
+so firmly cemented to the wood-frames as to be little liable to injury
+from jarring or even falling. With a gilt beading, they have a very
+beautiful appearance, by reason of the admirable lustre of the glass,
+which gives to them a polish finer than that of the most susceptible
+woods. They are, in short, exceedingly handsome, easily kept clean, always
+new and fresh, and what is worthy of mention, much cheaper than wood or
+gilt.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+.*. WILL our readers have the kindness to exhibit the ADVERTISEMENT OF OUR
+TWENTY-THIRD VOLUME to their friends? It will be found on the second and
+third pages of the cover of the present number; and they can testify to
+the accuracy of its unexaggerated statements. Many articles in prose and
+verse await examination or insertion, and a more particular reference
+hereafter. Notices are in type of new publications from the presses of
+Messrs. BURGESS AND STRINGER, M. W. DODD, J. WINCHESTER, the LANGLEY'S,
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, M. H. NEWMAN, WILEY AND PUTNAM, and of the
+'Columbian Magazine,' which we are reluctantly compelled to defer to our
+February issue.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, January 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
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