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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20481-8.txt b/20481-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12f87b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/20481-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8199 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, +July, 1864, 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: Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, July, 1864 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 29, 2007 [EBook #20481] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + + + + + + +THE + +CONTINENTAL MONTHLY: + + +DEVOTED TO + +Literature and National Policy. + +VOL. VI.--JULY, 1864.--NO. I. + + +New York: + +JOHN F. TROW, 50 GREENE STREET, + +(FOR THE PROPRIETORS.) + +1864. + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by + +JOHN F. TROW, + +In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the +Southern District of New York. + + JOHN F. TROW, + PRINTER, STEREOTYPER, AND ELECTROTYPER. + 50 Greene street, New York. + + * * * * * + + ++----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +|Transcriber's note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected. All | +|other inconstencies in spelling or punctuation are as in the original.| ++----------------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + +AN ARMY: ITS ORGANIZATION AND MOVEMENTS. + +_SECOND PAPER._ + + +Having, in the preceding paper, described the general organization[1] of +an army, we proceed to give a succinct account of some of the principal +staff departments, in their relations to the troops. + +Army organization--notwithstanding the world has always been engaged in +military enterprises--is of comparatively recent institution. Many of +the principles of existing military systems date no farther back than to +Frederic the Great, of Prussia, and many were originated by Napoleon. +Staff departments, particularly, as now constituted, are of late origin. +The staff organization is undergoing constant changes. Its most improved +form is to be found in France and Prussia. Our own staff system is of a +composite, and, in some respects, heterogeneous character--not having +been, constructed on any regular plan, but built up by gradual +accretions and imitations of European features, from the time of our +Revolution till the present. It has, however, worked with great vigor +and efficiency. + +The staff of any commander is usually spoken of in two classes--the +departmental and the personal--the latter including the aides-de-camp, +who pertain more particularly to the person of the commander, while the +former belong to the organization. Of the departmental staff, the +assistant adjutant-generals and assistant inspector-generals are +denominated the 'general staff,' because their functions extend through +all branches of the organization, while the other officers are confined +exclusively to their own departments. + +The _chief of staff_ is a recent French imitation. The first officer +assigned in that capacity was General Marcy, on the staff of General +McClellan, in the fall of 1861. Previous to that time the officers of +the adjutant-general's department--on account of their intimate +relations with commanding officers, as their official organs and the +mediums through which all orders were transmitted--had occupied it. The +duties of these officers, however, being chiefly of a bureau character, +allowing them little opportunity for active external supervision, it has +been deemed necessary to select for heads of the staffs, officers +particularly qualified to assist the commander in devising strategical +plans, organizing, and moving troops, etc.; competent to oversee and +direct the proceedings of the various staff departments; untrammelled +with any exclusive routine of duty, and able in any emergency, when the +commander may be absent, to give necessary orders. For these reasons, +although the innovation has not been sanctioned by any law, or any +standing rule of the War Department, and although its propriety is +discussed by many, the custom of assigning officers as chiefs of staff +has become universal, and will probably be permanent. The extent and +character of their duties depend, however, upon themselves, being +regulated by no orders, and the high responsibilities attached to the +position in France have not thus far been assumed by the officers +occupying it here. In the French service, the chief of staff is the +actual as well as the nominal head of the organization; he supervises +all its operations; he is the _alter ego_ of the commander. In the +Waterloo campaign, for instance, Marshal Soult was the chief of +Napoleon's staff, and the emperor attributed his disaster, in part, to +some of the orders issued by the marshal. + +Our limits will not permit a description of the duties pertaining to the +various members of the staff, but we pass to the consideration of those +departments, the operations of which most directly affect the soldier, +are indispensable to every army, and are most interesting to the public. + +Let us first consider the _quartermaster's department_, which, from the +character and diversity of its duties, the amount of its expenditures, +and its influence upon military operations, may be ranked as among the +most important. This department provides clothing, camp and garrison +equipage, animals and transportation of all kinds, fuel, forage, straw, +and stationery, an immense variety of the miscellaneous materials +required by an army, and for a vast amount of miscellaneous +expenditures. It is, in fact, the great business operator of a military +organization. In an active army, the success of movements depends very +much on its efficiency. Unless the troops are kept properly clothed, the +animals and means of transportation maintained in good condition, and +the immense trains moved with regularity and promptness, the best +contrived plans will fail in their development and execution. + +The department, at the commencement of the war, had supplies in store +only for the current uses of the regular army. When the volunteer forces +were organized it became necessary to make hasty contracts and purchases +to a large amount; but as even the best-informed members of the +Government had no adequate prevision of the extent and duration of the +war, and of the necessary arrangements for its demands, a considerable +period elapsed before a sufficient quantity of the required materials +could be accumulated. Those were the days of 'shoddy' cloth and spavined +horses. The department, however, exhibited great administrative energy, +under the direction of its able head, General M. C. Meigs, and has amply +provided for the enormous demands upon it. + +Depots for the reception of supplies are established in the large +cities, whence they are transferred as required to the great issuing +depots near the active armies, and from them to the depots in the field. +Thus, the main depots of the Army of the Potomac are at Washington and +Alexandria--a field depot being established at its centre, when lying +for any length of time in camp. Only current supplies are kept on hand +at the latter, and no surplus is transported on the march, except the +required amounts of subsistence and forage. + +A great deal is said in connection with military movements, of 'bases of +operation.' These are the points in the rear of an army from which it +receives supplies and reënforcements, and with which its communications +must at all hazards be kept open, except it has means of transportation +sufficient to render it independent of its depots for a considerable +period, or unless the country traversed is able to afford subsistence +for men and animals. When an army marches along a navigable river, its +secondary base becomes movable, and it is less confined to the necessity +of protecting its rear. In Virginia, however, the connection of the Army +of the Potomac with Washington is imperative, and this fact explains the +contracted sphere of the operations of that army. + +The transportation of supplies is limited by the ability of the +Government to provide trains, and by the ability of the army to protect +them; for large trains create large drafts on the troops for teamsters, +pioneers, guards, etc. An army train, upon the most limited allowance +compatible with freedom of operations for a few days, away from the +depots, is an immense affair. Under the existing allowances in the Army +of the Potomac, a corps of thirty thousand infantry has about seven +hundred wagons, drawn by four thousand two hundred mules; the horses of +officers and of the artillery will bring the number of animals to be +provided for up to about seven thousand. On the march it is calculated +that each wagon will occupy about eighty feet--in bad roads much more; +consequently a train of seven hundred wagons will cover fifty-six +thousand feet of road--or over ten miles; the ambulances of a corps will +occupy about a mile, and the batteries about three miles; thirty +thousand troops need six miles to march in, if they form but one column; +the total length of the marching column of a corps is therefore _twenty +miles_, even without including the cattle herds and trains of bridge +material. Readers who have been accustomed to think that our armies have +not exhibited sufficient energy in surmounting the obstacles of bad +roads, unbridged streams, etc., will be able to estimate, upon the above +statements, the immense difficulty of moving trains and artillery. The +trains of an army have been properly denominated its _impedimenta_, and +their movement and protection is one of the most difficult incidental +operations of warfare--particularly in a country like Virginia, where +the art of road making has attained no high degree of perfection, and +where the forests swarm with guerillas. + +To an unaccustomed observer the concourse of the trains of an army, in +connection with any rapid movement, would give the idea of inextricable +confusion. It is of course necessary to move them upon as many different +roads as possible, but it will frequently happen that they must be +concentrated in a small space, and move in a small number of columns. +During the celebrated 'change of base' from Richmond to Harrison's +Landing, the trains were at first obliged to move upon only one +road--across White Oak Swamp--which happened fortunately to be wide +enough for three wagons to go abreast. There were perhaps twenty-five +hundred vehicles, which would make a continuous line of some forty or +fifty miles. While the slow and toilsome course of this cumbrous column +was proceeding, the troops were obliged to remain in the rear and fight +the battles of Savage Station and White Oak Swamp for its protection. A +similar situation of trains occurred last fall when General Meade +retired from the Rappahannock, but fortunately the country presented +several practicable routes. It is on a retreat, particularly, that the +difficulty of moving trains is experienced, and thousands of lives and +much valuable material have been lost by the neglect of commanding +officers to place them sufficiently far in the rear during a battle, so +as to permit the troops to fall back when necessary, without +interruption. + +A march being ordered, supplies according to the capacity of the trains, +are directed to be carried. The present capacity of the trams of the +Army of the Potomac is ten days' subsistence and forage, and sixty +rounds of small-arm ammunition--the men carrying in addition a number of +days' rations, and a number of rounds, upon their persons. When the +wagons reach camp each evening, such supplies as have been expended are +replenished from them. As a general rule the baggage wagons camp every +night with the troops, but the exigencies are sometimes such that +officers are compelled to deny themselves for one or even two weeks the +luxury of a change of clothing--the wagons not reaching camp, perhaps, +till after midnight, and the troops resuming their march an hour or two +afterward. Those who indulge in satires upon the wearers of shoulder +straps would be likely to form a more correct judgment of an officer's +position and its attendant hardships, could they see him at the close of +a fortnight's campaign. Like the soldier, he can rely on nothing for +food or clothing except what is carried by himself, unless he maintains +a servant, and the latter will find a few blankets, a coffee pot, some +crackers, meat, sugar, coffee, etc., for his own and his employer's +consumption, a sufficient burden. + +Let us see how the supplies of the quartermaster's department are +distributed. + +At stated periods, if circumstances permit--usually at the first of each +month--the regimental quartermasters, after consultation with the +company officers, forward through their superiors to the chief +quartermasters of corps, statements of the articles required by the men. +These are consolidated and presented to the chief quartermaster of the +army, who orders them from Washington, and issues them from the army +depot--the whole operation requiring about a week. The number of +different _kinds_ of articles thus drawn monthly is about five hundred; +the _quantity_ of each kind depends on the number of men to be supplied, +and the nature of the service performed since the previous issue. If +there has been much marching, there will be a great demand for shoes; if +a battle, large quantities of all kinds of articles to replace those +lost on the battle field will be required. + +An infantry soldier is allowed the following principal articles of +clothing during a three years' term of service: + + 1st Year. 2d Year. 3d Year. + Cap, 1 1 1 + Coat, 2 1 2 + Trowsers, 3 2 3 + Flannel shirt, 3 3 3 + Drawers, 3 2 2 + Shoes, 4 4 4 + Stockings, 4 4 4 + Overcoat, 1 0 0 + Blanket, 1 0 1 + Indiarubber blanket, 1 1 1 + +The prices of these are stated each year in a circular from the +department, and, as the soldier draws them, his captain charges him with +the prices on the company books. The paymaster deducts from his pay any +excess which he may have drawn, or allows him if he has drawn less than +he is entitled to. The clothing is much cheaper than articles of the +same quality at home. Thus, according to the present prices, a coat +costs $7.30; overcoat, $7.50; trowsers, $2.70; flannel shirt, $1.53; +stockings, 32 cents; shoes, $2.05. + +The _commissary department_ provides exclusively the subsistence of the +troops. Each soldier is entitled to the following daily ration: + + Twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or one pound four ounces of fresh + beef. + + One pound six ounces of soft bread or flour, or one pound of hard + bread, or one pound four ounces of corn meal. + + To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of beans or peas, and ten + pounds of rice or hominy. + + To every one hundred men, ten pounds of green coffee, or eight + pounds of roasted, or one pound and eight ounces of tea. + + To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of sugar, four quarts of + vinegar, one pound four ounces of candles, four pounds of soap, + three pounds twelve ounces of salt, four ounces of pepper, thirty + pounds of potatoes, when practicable, and one quart of molasses. + + Fresh onions, beets, carrots, and turnips, when on hand, can be + issued in place of beans, peas, rice, or hominy, if the men desire. + + They can also take in place of any part of the ration an amount + equal in value of dried apples, dried peaches, pickles, etc., when + on hand. + +A whiskey ration of a gill per day per man can be issued on the order of +the commander, in cases of extra hardship. It is, however, rarely +issued, on account of the difficulty of finding room for its +transportation in any considerable quantities. Moreover, whiskey, in the +army, is subject to extraordinary and mysterious _leakages_, and an +issue can scarcely be made with such care that some drunkenness will not +ensue. When lying in camp, sutlers and others sell to the soldiers +contrary to law, so that old topers usually find methods of gratifying +their appetites--sometimes sacrificing a large proportion of their pay +to the villains who pander to them. The utmost vigilance of the officers +fails to detect the methods by which liquor is introduced into the army. +When a cask is broached in any secluded place, the intelligence seems +communicated by a pervading electrical current, and the men are seized +with a universal desire to leave camp for the purpose of washing, or +getting wood, or taking a walk, or other praise-worthy purposes. + +The total weight of a ration is something over two pounds, but in +marching, some articles are omitted, and but a small quantity of salt +meat is carried--fresh beef being supplied from the herds of cattle +driven with the army. A bullock will afford about four hundred and fifty +rations, so that an army of one hundred thousand men needs over two +hundred cattle daily for its supply. + +In camp the men can refrain from drawing portions of their rations, and +the surplus is allowed for by the commissaries in money, by which a +company fund can be created, and expended in the purchase of gloves, +gaiters, etc., or luxuries for the table. A hospital fund is formed in +the same way--by an allowance for the portions of the rations not +consumed by the patients--and is expended in articles adapted to diet +for the sick. The rations are ample and of good quality, though the salt +meat is rather tough occasionally, and the consistency of the hard bread +is shot-proof. Company cooks are allowed, and in camp they contrive to +furnish quite appetizing meals. Their position is rather difficult to +fill, and woe is the portion of the cook not competent for his +profession. The practical annoyances to which he is subject make him +realize to the fullest extent 'the unfathomable depths of human woe.' On +the march the men usually prefer to boil their coffee in tin cups, and +to cook their meat on ram-rods--without waiting for the more formal +movements of the cooks. To reach camp before sunset, after a twenty-mile +march, to pitch his little shelter tent, throw in it his heavy arms and +accoutrements, collect some pine twigs for a couch, wash in some +adjacent stream, drink his cup of hot, strong coffee, eat his salt pork +and hard bread, and then wrap himself in his blanket for a dreamless +slumber, is one of the most delicious combinations of luxurious +enjoyment a soldier knows. To-morrow, perhaps, he starts up at the early +_reveille_, takes his hasty breakfast, is marshalled into line before +the enemy, there is a shriek in the air rent by the murderous shell, and +the soldier's last march is ended. + +The next department we shall consider is that of _ordnance_, which +supplies the munitions and portions of accoutrements. + +The subject of _artillery_ is perhaps the most interesting of the great +number connected with warfare. In the popular estimation it overshadows +all others. All the poetry of war celebrates the grandeur of + + 'Those mortal engines whose rude throats + The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit.' + +The thunder of great guns and the dashing of cavalry are the incidents +which spontaneously present themselves to the mind when a battle is +mentioned. Perhaps the accounts of Waterloo are responsible for this. +The steady fighting of masses of infantry, having less particulars to +attract the imagination, is overlooked; the fact, preëminent above all +others in military science, that it is the infantry which contests and +decides battles, that artillery and cavalry are only subordinate +agencies--is forgotten. So splendid have been the inventions and +achievements of the last few years in respect to artillery, as +illustrated particularly at Charleston, that some excuse may easily be +found for the popular misconception. A few remarks presenting some +truths relative to the appropriate sphere of artillery and its powers, +and stating succinctly the results which have been accomplished, may be +found interesting. + +Without entering into the history of artillery, it will be sufficient to +state that the peculiar distinguishing excellence of modern improvements +in cannon is the attainment of superior efficiency, accuracy, and +mobility, with a decrease in weight of metal. A gun of any given size is +now many times superior to one of the same size in use fifty or a +hundred years ago. It is not so much in _big guns_ that we excel our +predecessors--for there are many specimens of old cannon of great +dimensions; but by our advance in science we are able so to shape our +guns and our projectiles that with less weight of material we can throw +larger shot to a greater distance and with more accuracy. A long course +of mathematical experiment and calculation has determined the exact +pressure of a charge of powder at all points in the bore of a cannon +during its combustion and evolution into gas. These experiments have +proved that strength is principally required near the breech, and that a +cannon need not be of so great length as was formerly supposed to be +necessary. We are thus able to construct guns which can be handled, +throwing balls of several hundred pounds' weight. Another splendid +result of scientific investigation is the method adopted for casting +such monster guns. In order that the mass of metal may be of uniform +tenacity and character, it should cool equably. This has been secured by +a plan for introducing a stream of water through the core of the +casting, so that the metal cools both within and without simultaneously. + +About the time that the Italian war commenced, the subject of rifled +cannon excited much popular interest. Exaggerated expectations were +formed of the changes to be produced by them in the art of warfare. Many +saw in them the means of abolishing war entirely. Of what use is it, +they said, to array armies against each other, if they can be destroyed +at two or three miles' distance? At the commencement of our own contest +there was an undue partiality for rifled ordnance. Almost every +commander of a battery desired to have rifled guns. The more correct +views of the thoroughly accomplished artillery officers to whom was +confided the arrangement of this branch of the service, and actual +experience, have dissipated the unfounded estimate of their utility for +field service, and established the proper proportions in an artillery +force which they should compose. It has been ascertained that fighting +will never be confined to long ranges--that guns which can throw large +volumes of spherical case and canister into lines only a few hundred +yards distant are as necessary as ever. + +The necessity for rifled cannon arose from the perfection of rifled +muskets. When these arms reached such a degree of excellence that horses +and gunners could be shot down at a distance of one thousand yards, the +old-fashioned smooth-bore artillery was deprived of its prestige. To +retrieve this disadvantage and restore the superiority of artillery over +musketry in length of range, methods of rifling cannon for field service +became an important study. For assailing distant lines of troops, for +opening a battle, for dispersing bodies of cavalry, for shelling +intrenchments, for firing over troops from hills in their rear, rifled +guns are of invaluable service. But, notwithstanding troops are now +universally armed with muskets of long range, no battle of importance is +fought without close engagements of the lines. The alternate advances +and retreats of the infantry, firing at distances of less than one +hundred yards, charging with fixed bayonets and frantic shouts, will +always characterize any battle fought with vigor and enthusiasm. In such +conflicts, wide-mouthed smooth bores, belching their torrents of iron, +must play a conspicuous part. + +Another fact, which will perhaps surprise the general reader, is that +the form and character of _projectiles_ have been matters of as much +difficulty, have received as much investigation, and are of as much +importance, as the shape and character of the guns. In fact, rifled +pieces would be comparatively ineffective except projectiles adapted to +them had been invented. It was necessary that projectiles of greater +weight, of less resistance to the atmosphere, and of more accuracy of +flight, than the old round shot, should be introduced. To accomplish +these ends several things were necessary: 1st, the projectiles should be +elongated; 2d, they should have conical points; 3d, the centre of +gravity should be at a proper distance in front of the centre; 4th, +there should be methods of _steering_ them so that they should always go +point foremost through the whole curve of their flight; 5th, they should +fit the gun so as to take the rifles, yet not so closely as to strain +it. To attain these and other requisites, innumerable plans have been +devised. The projectile offering the best normal conditions is the +_arrow_; it has length, a sharp point, centre of gravity near the head, +and feathers for guiding it (sometimes so arranged that it shall rotate +like a rifled ball). Improved projectiles, therefore, both for muskets +and cannon, correspond in these essentials to the first products of man +in the savage state. + +We cannot, in this article, further discuss either such general +principles or those of a more abstruse character, in their application +to artillery, but will briefly state a few facts relative to its +employment--confining ourselves exclusively to the _field service_. + +The guns now principally used for battles, in the Northern armies, are +10 and 12-pounder Parrotts, three-inch United States rifles, and light +12-pounder smooth bores. The distinguishing characteristic of the +Parrott guns is lightness of construction, secured by strengthening the +breech (in accordance with the principles mentioned a few paragraphs +back) with a band of wrought iron. This has been applied to guns of all +sizes, and its excellence has been tested by General Gillmore in the +reduction of Forts Pulaski and Sumter. The three-inch guns are made of +wrought iron, are of light weight, but exceedingly tenacious and +accurate. The 12-pounders, sometimes called Napoleons, are of bronze, +with large caliber, and used chiefly for throwing shell and canister at +comparatively short distances. + +The greatest artillery conflict of the war (in the field) occurred at +Gettysburg. For two hours in the afternoon of the memorable third day's +battle, about four hundred cannon were filling the heavens with their +thunder, and sending their volleys of death crashing in all directions. + +It was estimated that the discharges numbered five or six a second; in +fact, the ear could hardly detect any cessations in the roar. The air +was constantly howling as the shells swept through it, while the falling +of branches, cut from the trees by the furious missiles, seemed as if a +tornado was in the height of its fury: every few minutes, a thunder +heard above all other sounds, denoted the explosion of a caisson, +sweeping into destruction, with a cataract of fire and iron, men and +animals for hundreds of feet around it. The effect of such a fire of +artillery is, however, much less deadly than any except those who have +been subject to it can believe. The prevalent impression concerning the +relative destructiveness of cannon and musketry is another instance of +popular error. In the first place, all firing at over a mile distance +contains a large proportion of the elements of chance, for it is +impossible to get the range and to time the fuses so accurately as to +make any considerable percentage of the shots effective; and in the next +place, except when marching to a close conflict, the men are generally +protected by lying down behind inequalities of the ground, or other +accidental or designed defences. The proportion killed in any battle by +artillery fire is very small. Lines of men frequently lie exposed to +constant shelling for hours, with small loss; in fact, in such cases, +old soldiers will eat their rations, or smoke their pipes, or perhaps +have a game of poker, with great equanimity. + +No portion of the military service has been more misrepresented than the +_medical department_. An opinion seems to prevail quite extensively that +the army surgeon is generally a young graduate, vain of his official +position, who cares little for the health of the soldier, and glories in +the opportunities afforded by a battle for reckless operations. Such an +opinion is altogether fallacious. In the regiments there are undoubtedly +many physicians who have adopted the service as a resource for a living +which they were unable to find at home, but the majority are exactly the +same class of professional men as those who pursue useful and honorable +careers in all our cities and villages. When a physician is called upon +at home, it happens in a majority of cases--as every honest member of +the profession will admit--that there is little or no necessity for his +services. Too sagacious to avow this, he gravely makes some simple +prescription, and as gravely pockets his fee. In camp, however, the +potent argument of the fee does not prevail, and men who run to the +doctor with trifling ailments, by which they hope to be relieved from +duty, receive a rebuff instead of a pill. They instantly write letters +complaining of his inhumanity. In regard to operations, it is a frequent +remark by the most experienced surgeons that lives are lost from the +hesitancy to amputate, more frequently than limbs are removed +unnecessarily. + +The medical department of an army, like every other, is controlled by a +_system_, and it is this which regulates its connections with the +soldier more than the qualifications of individual surgeons. In the army +the _system_ takes care of everything, even to the minutest details. +Hygienic regulations for preserving the salubrity of camps and the +cleanliness of the troops and their tents, are prescribed and enforced. +Every day there is a 'sick call' at which men who find themselves ill +present themselves to the surgeons for treatment. If slightly affected, +they are taken care of in their own quarters; if more seriously, in the +regimental hospitals; if still more so, in the large hospitals +established by the chief medical officer of the corps; and if necessary, +sent to the Government hospitals established at various places in the +country. To the latter almost all the sick are transferred previous to a +march. To be ill in the army, amid the constant noises of a camp, and +with the non-luxurious appliances of a field hospital, is no very +pleasant matter; but the sick soldier receives all the attention and +accommodation possible under the circumstances. + +To every corps is attached a train of ambulances, in the proportion of +two or three to a regiment. They are spring wagons with seats along the +sides, like an omnibus, which can, when necessary, be made to form a bed +for two or three persons. With each train is a number of wagons, +carrying tents, beds, medicine chests, etc., required for the +establishment of hospitals. On the march, the ambulances collect the +sick and exhausted who fall out from the columns and have a surgeon's +certificate as to their condition. When a battle is impending, and the +field of conflict fixed, the chief medical officers of the corps take +possession of houses and barns in the rear, collect hay and straw for +bedding, or, if more convenient, pitch the tents at proper localities. A +detail of surgeons is made to give the necessary attendance. While the +battle proceeds, the lightly wounded fall to the rear, and are there +temporarily treated by the surgeons who have accompanied the troops to +the field, and then find their way to the hospitals. If the fighting has +passed beyond the places where lie the more dangerously wounded, they +are brought to the rear by the 'stretcher bearers' attached to the +ambulance trains, and carried to the hospitals in the ambulances. +Sometimes it happens that the strife will rage for hours on nearly the +same spot, and it may be night before the 'stretcher bearers' can go out +and collect the wounded. But the surgeons make indefatigable exertions, +often exposed to great danger, to give their attention to those who +require it. At the best, war is terrible--all its 'pomp, pride, and +circumstance' disappear in the view of the wounded and dead on the +field, and of the mangled remnants of humanity in the hospitals. But +everything that can be devised and applied to mitigate its horrors is +provided under the systematized organization of the medical department. +In the Army of the Potomac, at least, and undoubtedly in all the other +armies of the North, that department combines skill, vigor, humanity, +and efficiency to an astonishing degree. Its results are exhibited not +only in the small mortality of the camps, but in the celerity of its +operation on the field of battle, and the great proportion of lives +preserved after the terrible wounds inflicted by deadly fragments of +shell and the still more deadly rifle bullet. Military surgery has +attained a degree of proficiency during the experiences of the past +three years which a layman cannot adequately describe; its results are, +however, palpable. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Since that article was written, some changes of detail have +been made, but the principles remain the same.] + + + + +ÆNONE: + +A TALE OF SLAVE LIFE IN ROME. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Raising himself with an assumed air of careless indifference, in the +hope of thereby concealing the momentary weakness into which his better +feelings had so nearly betrayed him, Sergius strolled off, humming a +Gallic wine song. Ænone also rose; and, struggling to stifle her +emotion, confronted the new comer. + +She, upon her part, stood silent and impassive, appearing to have heard +or seen nothing of what had transpired, and to have no thought in her +mind except the desire of fulfilling the duty which had brought her +thither. But Ænone knew that the most unobservant person, upon entering, +could not have failed at a glance to comprehend the whole import of the +scene--and that therefore any such studied pretence of ignorance was +superfluous. The attitude of the parties, the ill-disguised confusion of +Sergius, her own tears, which could not be at once entirely +repressed--all combined to tell a tale of recrimination, pleading, and +baffled confidence, as plainly as words could have spoken it. Apart, +therefore, from her disappointment at being interrupted at the very +moment when her hopes had whispered that the happiness of reconciliation +might be at hand, Ænone could not but feel indignant that Leta should +thus calmly stand before her with that pretence of innocent +unconsciousness. + +'Why do you come hither? Who has demanded your presence?' Ænone cried, +now, in her indignation, caring but little what or how she spoke, or +what further revelations her actions might occasion, as long as so much +had already been exposed. + +'My lady,' rejoined the Greek, raising her eyes with a well-executed air +of surprise, 'do I intrude? I came but to say that in the antechamber +there is--' + +'Listen!' exclaimed Ænone, interrupting her, and taking her by the hand. +'Not an hour ago you told me about your quiet home in Samos--its green +vines--the blue mountains which encircled it--the little chamber where +your mother died, and in which you were born--and the lover whom you +left weeping at your cruel absence. You spoke of your affection for +every leaf and blade of grass about the place--and how you would give +your life itself to go back thither--yes, even your life, for you would +be content to lie down and die, if you could first return. Do you +remember?' + +'Well, my lady?' + +'Well, you shall return, as you desired. You have been given to me for +my own; and whether or not the gift be a full and free one, I will claim +my rights under it and set you free. In the first ship which sails from +Ostia for any port of Greece, in that ship you may depart. Are you +content, Leta?' + +Still holding her by the hand, Ænone gazed inquiringly into the burning +black eyes which fastened themselves upon her own, as though reading the +bottom of her soul. She could not as yet believe that even if the Greek +had actually begun to cherish any love for Sergius, it could be more +than a passing fancy, engendered by foolish compliments or ill-judged +signs of admiration, and therefore she did not doubt that the offer of +freedom and restoration would be gratefully received. Her only +uncertainty was with regard to the manner in which it would be listened +to--whether with tears of joy or with loud protestations of gratitude +upon bended knees; or whether the prospect of once again visiting that +cottage home and all that had so long been held dear, would come with +such unpremeditated intensity as to stifle all outward manifestations of +delight, except, perhaps, that trembling of the lip or ebb and flow of +color which is so often the surest sign of a full and glowing heart. + +For a moment Leta stood gazing up into the face of her mistress, +uttering no word of thanks, and with no tear of joy glistening in her +eye, but with the deepened flush of uncontrollable emotion overspreading +her features. And yet that flush seemed scarcely the token of a heart +overpowered with sudden joy, but rather of a mind conscious of being +involved in an unexpected dilemma, and puzzled with its inability to +extricate itself. + +'My mistress,' she responded at length, with lowered gaze, 'it is true +that I said I would return, if possible, to that other home of mine. But +now that you offer me the gift, I would not desire to accept it. Let me +stay here with you.' + +Ænone dropped the hand which till now she had held; and an agony of +mingled surprise, suspicion, disappointment, and presentiment of evil +swept across her features. + +'Are you then become like all others?' she said with bitterness. 'Has +the canker of this Roman life already commenced to eat into your soul, +so that in future no memory of anything that is pure or good can attract +you from its hollow splendors? Are thoughts of home, of freedom, of +friends, even of the trusted lover of whom you spoke--are all these now +of no account, when weighed against a few gilded pleasures?' + +'Why, indeed, should I care to return to that home?' responded the girl. +'Have not the Roman soldiers trodden down those vines and uprooted that +hearth? Is it a desolated and stricken home that I would care to see?' + +'False--false!' cried Ænone, no longer regardful of her words, but only +anxious to give utterance--no matter how rashly--to the suspicions which +she had so long and painfully repressed. 'It is even more than the mere +charms of this imperial city which entice you. It is that you are my +enemy, and would stay here to sting the hand that was so truly anxious +to protect you--that for your own purposes you would watch about my +path, and ever, as now, play the spy upon my actions, and--' + +'Nay, nay!' cried the Greek, her flashing eye and erect attitude in +strong contrast with the softened tone in which, more from habit than +from prudence, she had spoken. 'When have I played the spy upon you? Not +now, indeed, for I have come in, not believing that I was doing harm, +but simply because my duty has led me hither. I came to tell you that +there is a stranger--an old man--standing in the court below, and that +he craves audience with you. Is this a wrong thing for me to do? Were I +to forbear performance of this duty, would not my neglect insure me +punishment?' + +Ænone answered not, but, by a strong effort, kept back the words that +she would have uttered. Still angry and crushed with the sense of being +deceived, and yet conscious that it was not a noble or dignified thing +to be in disputation with her own slave, and that there was, moreover, +the remote possibility that the girl was not her enemy, and might really +dread returning to a desolated and devastated home, what could she say +or do? And while she pondered the matter, the door again opened. + +'And this is he of whom I spoke. Do you doubt me now?' exclaimed the +Greek, in a tone in which a shade of malicious triumph mingled with soft +reproach. And she moved away, and left the room, while Ænone, lifting +her eyes, saw her father standing before her. + +'A plague take the wench who has just left you!' he muttered. 'Did she +not tell you that I was below? I sent word by her, and here she has left +me for half an hour kicking my heels together in the courtyard. And I +might have stayed there forever, if I had not of myself found my way up. +Even then, there were some who would have stopped me, deeming me, +perhaps, too rough in appearance to be allowed to ascend. But I told +them that there was a time when members of the house of Porthenus did +not wait in antechambers, but stood beside the consuls of the old +republic, and I touched the hilt of my dagger; and whether it was the +one argument or the other which prevailed, here I am.' + +With a grim smile the centurion then threw himself down upon a settee +near the door, arranged as properly as possible the folds of his coarse +tunic, drew his belt round so as to show more in front his dagger with +richly embossed sheath--the sole article of courtly and ceremonious +attire in which he indulged--and endeavored to assume an easy and +imposing attitude. For an instant he gazed around the room, observantly +taking in its wealth of mosaic pavement, paintings, statuary, and vases. +Then, as he began to fear lest he might be yielding too much of his +pride before the overbearing influence of so much luxury, he +straightened himself up, gathered upon his features a hard and somewhat +contemptuous expression, and roughly exclaimed: + +'Yes, by the gods, the Portheni lived with consuls and proconsuls long +before the house of Vanno began to rise from the dregs and become a +house at all. And the imperator knows it, and is jealous of the fact, +too, or else he would the better acknowledge it. What, now, is that?' he +added, pointing to the central fresco of the ceiling. + +'It is--I know not for certain, my father--but I think--' + +'Nay, but I know what it is. It is the old story of the three Vanni +overcoming the five Cimbri at the bridge of Athesis. No great matter, +nor so very long ago, even if it were true. But why did he not paint up, +instead, how the founder of the Portheni, with his single arm, slew the +ten Carthaginians under the aqueduct of Megara? Is not now your family +history a portion of his own? His jealousy prevented him, I suppose; +though I doubt not that, when in his cups with his high associates, he +often boasts of his connection with the house of Porthenus. And yet he +would let the only relic of the family starve before assisting him.' + +Ænone stood as in a maze of confusion and uncertainty. Were the trials +of the day never to end? First her unsatisfactory strife and pleading +with her husband; then the undignified contest with her own slave into +which she had been betrayed; and now came this old man--her father, to +be sure--but so much the more mortifying to her, as his vulgarity, +querulous complaining, and insulting strictures were forced upon her +ears. + +'Are you not comfortable? What more can he or I do for you?' she said, +with some impatience. + +'Ay, ay; there it is,' growled the centurion. 'One person must have all +luxuries--paintings, silver, and the like; but if the other has only +mere comforts, an extra tunic, perhaps, or a spare bit of meat for a +dog, what more can he want? But I will tell you what you can do? And it +is not as a gift, I ask it. Poor and despised as he may be, no one can +say that the centurion Porthenus is a beggar. It is as a fair matter of +business that I offer it.' + +'Well, my father?' + +'It is this: I have two slaves, and can afford to keep only one of them, +particularly as but one can be of use to me. Will the imperator purchase +the other? I will give it for a fair price, and therefore no one can say +that I have asked for anything beyond a proper trade, with which either +side should be well satisfied.' + +Ænone listened with a blush of shame for her father overspreading her +face. It did not occur to her that the slave rejected as useless could +be any other than the hunchback, whom her husband had bestowed upon the +centurion a few days before; and for the receiver to try to sell back a +gift to the giver was a depth of meanness for which no filial partiality +or affection could find an excuse. + +'I will show him to you,' cried the centurion, losing a little of his +gruffness in his eagerness to effect a transaction, whereby, under the +thin guise of a simple trade, he could extort a benefit. 'I have brought +him with me, and left him below. You will see that he is of good +appearance, and that the imperator will be pleased and grateful to me +for the opportunity of possessing him.' + +So saying, Porthenus strode to the head of the stairway, and issued his +commands in a stern voice, which made the vaulted ceilings of the palace +ring. A faint, weak response came up in answer, and in a moment the +slave entered the room. + +'Is this the one of whom you spoke?' faltered Ænone, unable for the +moment to retain her self-possession as she beheld, not the angular, +wiry form of the hunchback, but the careworn and slim figure of Cleotos. +'I thought--indeed I thought that you spoke of the inferior of the two.' + +'Ay, and so I do,' responded her father. 'Of what use to me can this man +be? The other one, indeed, is of tenfold value. There is no slave in +Rome like unto him for cleaning armor or sharpening a weapon, while to +run of an errand or manage any piece of business in which brains must +bear their part, I will trust him against the world. But as for this man +here, with his weak limbs and his simple face--do you know that I did +but set him to polish the rim of a shield, and in his awkwardness he let +it fall, and spoiled the surface as though a Jewish spear had stricken +it.' + +Ænone remained silent, scarcely listening to the words of her father, +while, in a troubled manner, she again mentally ran over, as she had +done hundreds of times before, the chances of recognition by the man who +stood before her. + +'But listen to me still further,' continued the centurion, fearful lest +his disparaging comments might defeat the projected sale. 'I only speak +of him as he is useful or not to me. To another person he would be most +valuable; for, though he cannot polish armor, he can polish verses, and +he can write as well as though he were educated for a scribe. For one +favored of fortune like the imperator Sergius Vanno,' and here again the +centurion began to roll the high-sounding name upon his tongue with +obvious relish, 'who wishes an attendant to carry his wine cup, or to +bear his cloak after him, or to trim his lamps, and read aloud his +favorite books, where could a better youth than this be found?' + +Ænone, still overpowered by her troubled thoughts, made no response. + +'Or to yourself,' eagerly continued the centurion, 'he would be most +suitable, with his pale, handsome face, and his slender limbs. Have you +a page?' + +'I have my maidens,' was the answer. + +'And that amounts to nothing at all,' asserted her father. 'A plebeian +can have her maidens in plenty, but it is not right that the wife of a +high and mighty imperator,' and here again the words rolled majestically +off his tongue, 'should not also have her male attendants. And the more +so when that wife has been taken from an ancient house like that of +Porthenus,' he added, with a frown in derogation of any tendency to give +undue importance to her present position. 'But with this Cleotos--come +forward, slave, and let yourself be seen.' + +Cleotos, who, partly from natural diffidence, and partly from being +abashed at the unaccustomed splendor about him, had, little by little, +from his first entrance, shrunk into a corner, now advanced; and Ænone, +once more resolutely assuring herself that, with the changes which time, +position, difference of place and costume had thrown about her, she +could defy recognition, summoned all her courage, and looked him in the +face. It may have been with an unacknowledged fear lest, now that she +saw him so freely in the broad daylight, some latent spark of the old +attachment might burst into a flame, and withdraw her heart from its +proper duty; but at the first glance she felt that in this respect she +had nothing to dread. In almost every particular, Cleotos had but little +changed. His costume was but slightly different from that which he had +always been accustomed to wear; for the centurion, in view of the chance +of effecting a profitable sale, had, for that occasion, made him put on +suitable and becoming attire. The face was still youthful--the eye, as +of old, soft, expressive, and unhardened by the ferocities of the world +about him. As Ænone looked, it seemed as though the years which had +passed rolled back again, and that she was once more a girl. But it also +seemed as though something else had passed away--as though she looked +not upon a lover, but rather upon a quiet, kindhearted, innocent +friend--one who could ever be dear to her as a brother, but as nothing +else. What was it which had so flitted away that the same face could now +stir up no fire of passion, but only a friendly interest? Something, she +could not tell what; but she thanked the gods that it was so, and drew a +long breath of relief. + +But it was none the less incumbent upon her, for the sake of that +present friendship and for the memory of that old regard, to cast her +protection over him. For an instant the thought flashed across her that +it would be well to purchase him, not simply for a page, but so that she +could have him in the way of kind treatment and attention until some +opportunity of restoring him to his native land might occur. But then +again was the danger that, if any great length of time should meanwhile +elapse, unconsidered trifles might lead to a recognition. No, that plan +could not be thought of. She must keep a protecting eye upon him from a +distance, and trust to the future for a safe working out of the problem. + +'It cannot be,' she murmured, in answer, half to her father, half to her +own suggestion. + +''Tis well,' muttered the centurion, rising with an air of displeasure +which indicated that he thought it very ill. 'I supposed that it would +be a kindness to the imperator or to yourself to give the first offer of +the man. But it matters little. The captain Polidorus will take him any +moment at a fair price.' + +'You will not send him to the captain Polidorus?' exclaimed Ænone in +affright. For at once the many atrocities of that man toward his slaves +rose in her mind--how that he had slain one in a moment of passion--how +that he had deliberately beaten another to death for attempting to +escape to the catacombs--how that stripes and torture were the daily +portion of the unfortunates in his power--and that, not by reason of any +gross neglect of their duty, but for the merest and most trifling +inadvertencies. Better death than such a fate. + +'Pah! What can I do?' retorted Porthenus, skilfully touching the chord +of her sympathies, as he saw how sensitive she was to its vibrations. +'It is true that Polidorus is no fawning woman, and that he greets his +slaves with the rod and the brand, and what not. It is true that he +thinks but little of sending one of them to Hades through the avenue of +his fishponds. But that, after all, is his affair, and if he chooses to +destroy his property, what should it matter to me? Am I so rich that I +can afford to lose a fair purchaser because he may incline to hang or +drown his bargain? Such self-denial may suit the governor of a +province, but should not be expected of a poor centurion.' + +Ænone trembled, and again the impulse to make the purchase came upon +her. Better to risk anything for herself--recognition, discovery, +suspicion, or misconstruction, than that her friendship should so far +fail as to allow this poor captive to fall into the hands of a brutish +tyrant. There was a purse of gold in the half-opened drawer of a table +which stood near her; and, in sore perplexity, she raised it, then let +it fall, and again lifted it. As the centurion listened to the ring of +the metal, his eyes sparkled, and he prepared to apply new arguments, +when Cleotos himself sprang forward. + +'I know nothing about this Polidorus of whom they speak,' said he, +dropping upon one knee at her feet. 'And it is not to save myself from +his hands that I ask your pity, most noble lady. There is much that I +have already suffered, and perhaps a little more might make no +difference, or, better yet, might close the scene with me forever. It is +for other reasons that I would wish to be in this house--even as the +lowest, meanest slave of all, rather than to live in the halls of the +emperor Titus himself. There is one in this house, most noble lady, from +whom I have long been cruelly separated, and who--what can I say but +that if, when I was a free man, she gave me her love, now, in my +abasement, she will not fail with that love to brighten my lot?' + +Ænone started. At hearing such words, there could be but one thought in +her mind--that he had actually recognized her, and that, without waiting +to see whether or not she had forgotten him, and certainly knowing that +in any event her position toward him had become changed, he was daring +to covertly suggest a renewal of their old relationship. But the next +words reassured her. + +'We lived near each other in Samos, my lady. I was happy, and I blessed +the fates for smiling upon us. How was I then to know that she would be +torn away from me upon the very day when I was to have led her to my own +home?' + +'You say that she is here? Is it--do you speak of Leta?' cried Ænone. + +'Leta was her name,' he responded, in some surprise that his secret had +been so promptly penetrated before he had more than half unfolded it. +'And she is here.' + +There was to Ænone perhaps one instant of almost unconscious regret at +learning that she had been forgotten for another. But it passed away +like a fleeting cloud--banished from her mind by the full blaze of +happiness which poured in upon her at the thought that here at last was +what would counteract the cruel schemes which were warring against her +peace, and would thereby bring sure relief to her sorrow. + +'And she is here,' repeated Cleotos. 'When at the first she was torn +from my side, most noble lady, I would have died, if I could, for I did +not believe that life had any further blessing in store for me. But, +though the Roman armies were cruel, the fates have been kind, and have +again brought us near. It was but a week ago that, as I looked up by the +moonlight at these palace walls, I saw her. Can it be, that after so +long a time, the gods meant I should be brought near, to have but this +one glimpse of happiness, and then again be sundered from it?' + +'It cannot be--it was not meant to be,' exclaimed Ænone, with energy; +and again lifting the purse of gold, she placed it in the centurion's +hand. 'There, I will purchase your slave,' she said. 'Take from this his +proper price, and leave him with me.' + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The centurion received the purse with ill-dissembled joy. Had he been +fully able to control himself, he would doubtless have maintained a +quiet air of dignified self-possession, befitting one giving full value +for what he had received, and therefore not expected to exhibit any +peculiarly marked or lively satisfaction. But the affair had been +concluded so suddenly, and with such a liberal confidence in his +discretion, that, for the moment, his hands trembled with excitement, +and his face shone with avaricious pleasure. + +Then he began to count out the gold pieces, gleefully dropping some into +his pouch, and reluctantly putting others back into the purse. From the +first he had established in his own mind the valuation which he would +place upon the slave; and he had taken care to make his calculation upon +such a liberal scale that he could well afford to consent to a large +deduction, if it were required of him. Now he reasoned that, as his +child had merely told him to take out what was proper, there could be no +impropriety in paying himself at the highest possible price. She would +never mind, and there were many comforts which he needed, and which an +extra gold piece or two would enable him to procure for himself. + +Then, as he weighed the purse and pondered over it, numerous wants and +requirements, which he had hardly known until that time, came into his +mind. He might supply them all, if he were not too timid or scrupulous +in availing himself of an opportunity such as might never come to him +again. Had even his first valuation of the slave been a sufficient one? +He ought certainly to consider that the man could read and write, and +was of such beauty and grace that he could be trained to a most courtly +air; and it was hardly proper to sell him for no more than the price of +a couple of gladiators, mere creatures of bone and brawn. And, in any +event, it was hardly probable that Ænone knew the true value of slaves, +or even remembered how much her purse had contained. + +Thus meanly reflecting, the centurion dropped more of the gold pieces +into his pocket, all the while eying the slave with keen scrutiny, as +though calculating the market value of every hair upon his head. Then, +with a sigh, he handed back the purse, most wofully lightened of its +contents, and turned from the room, endeavoring to compose his features +into a decent appearance of sober indifference, and muttering that he +would not have allowed himself to be betrayed into giving up such a +prize so cheaply had it not been that he had an especial regard for the +imperator Sergius Vanno, and that the house of Porthenus had never +nourished mere traders to wrangle and chaffer over their property. + +In one of his conjectures he had been correct. It was little that Ænone +knew or cared about the price she was paying. Had the purse been +returned to her entirely empty, she would have thrown it unheedingly +into the drawer, and have never dreamed but that all had been rightly +done. There was now but one idea filling her heart. She thought not +about money nor any imprudence which she was committing, nor yet upon +the chance of recognition. She only reflected that the day of her +triumph had come--that at the sight of the long-absent lover, Leta would +abandon the wrong path in which she had been straying, would throw +herself into his arms, would tell him how, through the loss of him, she +had become reckless, and had allowed her suffering mind to become +perverted from the right--but that now all was again well; and thus +confessing and being forgiven, would, in the ever-present joy of that +forgiveness, lead for the future a different life, and, instead of a +rival, become to her mistress a friend and ally. + +Glowing with this bright hope, Ænone scarcely noticed the shuffling +departure of the centurion, but, fixing her eyes upon the captive, +keenly scrutinized his appearance. Not that it was likely that Leta, in +the first flush of her joy at meeting him, would notice or care in what +guise he was presented, so long as the soul which had so often +responded to her own was there. But it was well that there should be +nothing neglected which, without being directly essential to the +production of a proper impression, might be tributary to it. + +The inspection was satisfactory. Not only was the dress of the captive +clean, neat, becoming, and suitable to his station, but his appearance +had undergone visible improvement since Ænone had last seen him. The +rest and partial composure of even the few intervening days had sufficed +to restore tone to his complexion, roundness to his cheeks, and +something of the old merry smile to his eyes. And though complete +restoration was not yet effected, enough had been accomplished to show +that there was much latent beauty which would not fail to develop itself +under the stimulant of additional rest and kindly treatment. + +'Go in, thither,' said Ænone, pointing to the adjoining room, in which +Leta was occupied. 'When you are there, you will--it will be told you +what you are to do.' + +Cleotos bowed low, and passed through into the other room; and Ænone +followed him with a glance which betrayed the longing she felt to enter +with him and witness the meeting of the two lovers. But a sense of +propriety outweighed her curiosity and restrained her. It was not right, +indeed, that she should intrude. Such recognitions should be sacred to +the persons directly interested in them. She would therefore remain +outside, and there await Cleotos's return. And as she took into her +hands a little parchment ode which lay upon her table, and nervously +endeavored to interest herself in it, she delightedly pictured the +sudden transport of those within the next room, and the beaming joy with +which, hand in hand, they would finally emerge to thank her for their +newly gained happiness. + +In the mean time, Leta, having delivered her message, and received her +rebuke for the interruption, had retired to the other room, and there, +as usual, resumed her daily task of embroidery. Bending low over the +intricate stitches and counting their spaces, her features, at a casual +glance, still bore their impress of meek and unconscious humility, so +far did her accustomed self-control seem to accompany her even when +alone. But a more attentive scrutiny would have detected, half hidden +beneath the fringed eyelids, a sparkle of gratified triumph, and, in the +slightly bent corners of the mouth, a shade of haughty disdain; and +little by little, as the moments progressed, these indications of an +inner, irrepressible nature gained in intensity, and, as though her +fingers were stayed by a tumult of thought, her work slowly began to +slip from her grasp. + +At length, lifting her head, and, perhaps, for the first time realizing +that she was alone and might indulge her impulses without restraint, she +abruptly threw from her the folds of the embroidery, and stood erect. +Why should she longer trifle with that weak affair of velvet and dyes? +Who was the poor, inanimate, and tearful statue in the next room, to +order her to complete those tasks? What to herself were the past deeds +of the Vanni, that they should be perpetuated in ill-fashioned tapestry, +to be hung around a gilded banquet hall? By the gods! she would from +that day make a new history in the family life; and it should be +recorded, not with silken threads upon embroidered velvet, but should be +engraved deeply and ineffaceably upon human hearts! + +Standing motionless in the centre of the room, with one foot upon the +half-completed tapestry, she now for the first time, and in a flash of +inspiration, gave shape and comeliness to her previously confusedly +arranged ideas. Until the present moment she had had but little thought +of accomplishing anything beyond skilfully availing herself of her +natural attractions so as to climb from her menial position into +something a little better and higher. If, in the struggle to raise +herself from the degradation of slavery, she were obliged to engage in a +rivalry with her mistress, and, by robbing her of the affection +naturally belonging to her, were to crush her to the earth, it was a +thing to be deplored, but it must none the less be done. She might, +perhaps, pity the victim, but the sacrifice must be accomplished all the +same. + +But now these vague dreams of a somewhat better lot, to be determined by +future chance circumstances, rolled away like a shapeless cloud, and +left in their place one bright image as the settled object of her +ambition. So lofty, so dazzling seemed the prize, that another person +would have shrunk in dismay from even the thought of striving for it, +and even she, for the moment, recoiled. But she was of too determined a +nature to falter long. The higher the object to be attained the fewer +would be the competitors, and the greater the chance of success to +unwearying determination. And if there were but one chance of success in +a thousand, it were still worth the struggle. + +This great thought which stimulated her ambition was nothing less than +the resolution to become the wife of the imperator Sergius. At first it +startled her with its apparent wild extravagance; but little by little, +as she weighed the chances, it seemed to become more practicable. There +was, indeed, nothing grossly impossible in the idea. Men of high rank +had ere now married their slaves, and the corrupted society of Rome had +winked at mesalliances which, in the days of the republic, would not +have been tolerated. And she was merely a slave from accidental +circumstances--being free born, and having, but a month before, been the +pride and ornament of a respectable though lowly family. Once let her +liberty be restored, and the scarcely perceptible taint of a few weeks' +serfdom be removed from her, and she would be, in all social respects, +fully the equal of the poor, trembling maid of Ostia, to whom, a few +years before, the patrician had not been ashamed to stoop. + +This bar of social inequality thus removed, the rest might be in her own +hands. Sergius no longer felt for his wife the old affection, under the +impulse of which he had wedded her; and the few poor remains of the love +which he still cherished, more from habit than otherwise, were fast +disappearing. This was already so evident as to have become the common +gossip of even the lowliest slaves in the household. And he loved +herself instead, for not only his actions, but his words had told her +so. A little more craft and plotting, therefore--a little further +display of innocent and lowly meekness and timid obedience--a few more +well-considered efforts to widen the conjugal breach--a week or two more +persistent exercise of those fascinations which men were so feeble to +resist--jealousy, recrimination, quarrels, and a divorce--and the whole +thing might be accomplished. In those days of laxity, divorce was an +easy matter. In this case there was no family influence upon the part of +the wife to be set up in opposition--but merely an old centurion, +ignorant and powerless. A few writings, for form's sake--and the day +that sent the weeping wife from the door might install the manumitted +and triumphant slave in her place. + +All aglow with the ravishing prospect--her eager hopes converting the +possible into the probable, and again, by a rapid change, the probable +into the certain, the Greek stood spurning the needle work at her feet. +Then glancing around, the whim seized upon her to assume, for a moment +in advance, her coming stately dignity. At the side of the room, upon a +slightly elevated platform, was a crimson lounge--Ænone's especial and +proper seat. Over one arm of this lounge hung, in loose folds, a robe +of purple velvet, with an embroidered fringe of pearls--a kind of cloak +of state, usually worn by her upon the reception of ceremonious visits. +To this lounge Leta strode, threw herself upon it, drew the velvet +garment over her shoulders, so that the long folds fell down gracefully +and swept the marble pavement at her feet, and there, half sitting, half +reclining, assumed an attitude of courtly dignity, as though mistress of +the palace. + +And it must be confessed that she well suited the place. With her lithe, +graceful figure thrown into a position in which the gentle languor of +unembarrassed leisure was mingled with the dignity of queenly +state--with her burning eyes so tempered in their brilliancy that they +seemed ready at the same instant to bid defiance to impertinent +intrusion, and to bestow gracious condescension upon suppliant +timidity--with every feature glowing with that proper pride which is not +arrogance, and that proper kindliness which is not humility--there was +probably in all Rome no noble matron who could as well adorn her chair +of ceremony. Beside her, the true mistress of the place would have +appeared as a timid child dismayed with unaccustomed honors; and in +comparison, the empress herself might not fill her throne in the palace +of the Cæsars with half the grace and dignity. + +Then, as she there sat, momentarily altering her attitude to correspond +the better with her ideas of proper bearing, and gathering into newer +and more pleasing folds the sweeping breadths of the velvet mantle, the +door was slowly swung open, and there glided noiselessly in, clad in its +neat and coarse tunic, the timid figure of her old lover Cleotos. + +For an instant they remained gazing at each other as though paralyzed. +Cleotos--who had looked to see her in her simple white vestment as of +old, and had expected at her first glance to rush to her arms, and there +be allowed to pour forth his joy at again meeting her, never more to +part--beheld with dismay this gorgeously arrayed and queenly figure. +This could not be the Leta whom he had known, or, if so, how changed! +Was this the customary attire of slaves in high-placed families? Or +could it be the token of a guilty favoritism? His heart sank within him; +and he stood nervously clinging against the door behind him, fearing to +advance, lest, at the first step, some terrible truth, of which he had +already seemed to feel the premonitions, might burst upon him. + +And she, for the moment, sat aghast, not knowing but that the gods, to +punish her pride and ambition, had sent a spectre to confront her. But +being of strong mind and but little given to superstitious terrors, she +instantly reasoned out the facts of his simultaneous captivity with +herself and coincidence of ownership; and her sole remaining doubt was +in what manner she should treat him. They had parted in sorrow and +tears, and she knew that he now expected her to fall into his arms and +there repeat her former vows of constancy and love. But that could not +be. Had he come to her but an hour before, while her dreams of the +future were of a vague and unsatisfactory character, she might have +acted upon such an impulse. But now, a glorious vision of what might +possibly happen had kindled her ambition with brighter fires than ever +before; and could she surrender all that, and think again only upon +starving freedom in a cottage home? + +'Is it thou, Cleotos? Welcome to Rome!' she said at length, throwing +from her shoulder the purple cloak, and approaching him. As she spoke, +she held out her hand. He took it in his own, in a lifeless and +mechanical sort of way, and gazed into her face with a strange look of +inquiring doubt, which momentarily settled into an expression of deeper +apprehension. The blackness of despair began to enter into his soul. Now +that she was divested of her borrowed richness, she looked more like +herself, and that was surely her voice uttering tones of greeting; but +somehow her heart did not seem to be in them, and, for a certainty, this +had not been her wonted style of welcome. + +'I thought,' she continued, 'that thou wert slain. Certainly when I +parted from you ere you fled into the mountains--' + +'You know that I fled not at all,' he interrupted, the color mounting +into his temples. 'Why do you speak so, Leta? I retired to the mountains +to meet my friends there and with them carry on the defence; and, +previous thereto, I conducted you to what I believed to be a place of +safety. And I fought my best against the foe, and was brought nigh unto +death. This I did, though I can boast of but a weak and slender frame. +And it is hard that the first greeting of one so well loved as you +should be a taunt.' + +'Nay, forgive me,' she said. 'I doubt not your valor. It was but in +forgetfulness that I spoke. I meant it not for a taunt.' And in truth +she had not so meant it. It was but the inadvertent expression of a +feeling which the sight of his feeble and boyish figure unwittingly made +upon her--an incapacity to connect deeds of valor with apparent physical +weakness. But this very inability to judge of his true nature by the +soul that strove to look into her own rather than by material +impressions was perhaps no slight proof of the little unison between her +nature and his. + +'Sit down here,' she continued, 'and tell me all that has happened to +you.' And they sat together, and he briefly told her of his warlike +adventures, his wound, his captivity, his recognition of herself, and +his successful attempt to be once more under the same roof with her. And +somehow it still seemed to him that their talk was not as of old, and +that her sympathy with his misfortunes was but weak and cheerless; and +though he tried to interweave the customary words of endearment with his +story, there was a kind of inner check upon him, so that they came not +readily to his lips as of old. And she sat, trying to listen, and indeed +keeping the thread of his adventures in her mind; but all the while +finding her attention fail as she speculated how she could best give +that explanation of her feelings which she knew would soon be demanded +of her. + +'And here I am at last, Leta--as yourself, a slave!' he concluded. + +'Courage, my friend!' was her answer. 'There are very many degrees and +fates reserved for all in this old Rome, and much for every man to +learn. And many a one who has begun as a slave has, in the end, attained +not only to freedom, but to high honor and station.' + +'If the gods were to give me honor and station, far be it from me to +refuse the gift,' he said. 'But that, of itself alone, would not content +me, unless you were there to share the good with me. And with yourself I +would crave no other blessing. We are slaves here, Leta, but even that +fate may have its mitigations and happiness for us.' + +She was silent. How could she tell it to him? But his suspicions, at +first vague, were now aroused by her very silence into more certainty. + +'Tell me,' he cried, again taking her hand, 'tell me my fate; and if +sorrow is to come upon me, let it come now. It seems as though there +were indeed evil tidings in store for me. The blight of anticipated evil +even weighed upon me ere I passed yonder hall, and when I knew no reason +why I should not find you loving of heart and humble of desire as in +other days. Is it all gone? Are you no longer the same? This tawdry +velvet in which I found you arrayed--is it the type of a something +equally foreign to your nature, and which imperial Rome has thrown +about you to aid in crushing out the better feelings of your heart?' + +'My friend, my brother,' she said at length, with some real pity and +some false sorrow, 'why have we again met? Why is it now forced upon me +to tell you that the past must always be the past with us?' + +He dropped her hand, and the tears started into his eyes. Much as the +words and gestures of the last few minutes had prepared him for the +announcement, yet when it came, it smote him as though there had been no +premonition of it; so lovingly had his heart persisted in clinging to +the faint hope that he might have been mistaken. A low wail of anguish +burst from his lips. + +'And this is the end of all?' he sobbed. + +'Think only,' she said, 'think only that I am not worthy of you.' + +'The old story--the old story which has been repeated from the beginning +of the world,' he cried, stung into life by something of heartlessness +which he detected in her affected sympathy. 'The woman weaves her toils +about the man--gilds his life until there is no brightness which can +compare with it--fills his heart with high hopes of a blissful +future--so changes his soul that he can cherish no thought but of +her--so alters the whole tenor and purpose of his existence that he even +welcomes slavery as a precious boon because it brings him under the same +roof with her. And then--some other fancy having crossed her mind--or an +absence of a week or two having produced forgetfulness--she insults him +with a cruel mockery of self-unworthiness as her sole apology for +perfidy.' + +'Nay,' she exclaimed, half glad of an excuse to quarrel with him. 'If +you would rather have it otherwise, think, then, that I have never loved +you as I should, even though I may have imagined that I did.' + +'Go on,' he said, seeing that she hesitated. + +'I know,' she continued, 'that in other days you have had my words for +it, uttered, indeed, in sympathy and truth, as I then felt them. But I +was a simple girl, then, Cleotos. The sea before me and the mountains +behind bounded all my knowledge of the world. The people whom I saw were +but few. The tastes I had were simple. Is it wonderful that I should +have listened to the first one who spoke to me of love, and should have +imagined that my heart made response to him? But now, now, Cleotos--' + +'Now, what?' he exclaimed. 'Would you say that now you have seen the +world better and think differently? What is there in all that you have +since known that should change you? Is it that the sight of war and +tumult--of burning towns and bleeding captives--of insolent soldiers and +cruel taskmasters can have made you less in favor with our own native, +vine-covered retreat, with its neighborhood of simple peasantry? Or +would you say that since then you have met others whom you can love +better than me? Whom, indeed, have you seen but weary prisoners like +myself, or else unpitying conquerors whose love would be your shame? You +blush, Leta! Pray the gods that it be not the latter! Struggle sternly +with yourself to realize that you are merely for the moment fascinated +by the unaccustomed splendors of this swarming city; and that after its +first brightness has worn off from your dazzled eyes, your soul may +return to its native, pure simplicity and innocence, and--and to me.' + +'Speak not so, Cleotos,' she responded. 'My eyes are not dazzled with +any splendors; but for all that, our ways now and forever lie in +different directions. We are slaves, and can give little heed to our +affections. Our only course must be for each to strive to rise above +this serfdom; and if, in doing so, either can help the other, it must +be done--but in friendship, not in love. To you, through good conduct, +there may open, even in slavery, many posts of influence and profit; +and, in so much, of better worth than our own boasted liberty with +poverty. And as for me--I see my destiny already beckoning me to a +position such as many a free Roman woman might envy.' + +Speaking thus obscurely of her anticipated grandeur--to be gained, +perhaps, by abasement, but none the less in her mind certain to end in +such legitimate position as might sanctify the previous steps +thereto--her face again lit up with a glow of pride, as though she were +already the powerful patrician's wife. And revelling in such dreams, she +saw not the agony which overspread her listener's face as he read her +thoughts partly awrong, and believed her content to throw herself away +forever, in order to gain some temporary exaltation as a wealthy Roman's +plaything. + +'And when that day does come,' she continued, 'if, for the memory of our +old friendship, I can help to elevate you to some better sphere--' + +'Enough! No more!' he cried bitterly; and starting from her, he fled out +of the room. It were hard enough that he should lose her, harder yet +that he should hear her marking out for herself a life of ruin for some +temporary gain, but harder than all, that she should dare to mistake his +nature so far as to insult him with the promise of aiding his prosperity +through such an influence. + +'Let me go hence!' he cried, in his agony, to Ænone, who, still radiant +with her newly discovered hope, met him at the door. 'Send me to the +captain Polidorus--anywhere--only let me leave this house!' + + + + +AMERICAN SLAVERY AND FINANCES. + +By Hon. Robert J. Walker. + + + [The following article, from the pen of Hon. R. J. Walker, forms + the APPENDIX to the volume just published in England, and + now exciting great attention there, containing the various + pamphlets issued by him during the last six months. The subjects + discussed embrace Jefferson Davis and Repudiation, Recognition, + Slavery, Finances and Resources of the United States. It would be + difficult to overestimate the effect of these Letters abroad. As + our readers already possess them in the pages of THE + CONTINENTAL, we enable them to complete the series by + furnishing the ensuing Appendix. It closes with an extract from an + 'Introductory Address' delivered by Mr. Walker before the National + Institute, at Washington, D. C., giving a short account of the + various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen in the + Inductive Sciences. As showing to England what a high rank we had + even then taken in the world of science, and pointing out to her + the number and fame of our savants, it will be read with just pride + and interest. As the Address was delivered in 1844, it of course + contains no details of our marvellous progress since that date in + science and discovery.--ED. CONTINENTAL.] + +We have seen by the Census Tables, if the product _per capita_ of the +Slave States in 1859 had been equal to that of the Free States for that +year, that the ADDITIONAL value produced in 1859 in the Slave +States would have been $1,531,631,000. Now as our population augmented +during that decade 35.59 per cent., this _increased_ value, at that +ratio, in 1869 would have been $2,052,332,272. If multiplying the amount +_each year_ by three only, instead of 3-559/1000 the result, during that +decade, would have been as follows: + + Product of 1860, $1,559,039,962 + " 1861, 1,605,811,060 + " 1862, 1,654,085,391 + " 1863, 1,703,707,952 + " 1864, 1,754,819,198 + " 1865, 1,807,464,773 + " 1866, 1,861,688,716 + " 1867, 1,917,539,377 + " 1868, 1,975,065,558 + " 1869, 2,034,317,524 + ------------- + Total augmented + product of the $17,873,539,511 + decade + +That is, the total _increased_ product of the Slave States, during the +decade from 1859 to 1869, would have been $17,873,539,511, if the +production in the Slave States had been equal, _per capita_, to that of +the Free States. This, it will be remembered, is gross product. This, it +will be perceived, is far below the actual result, as we can see by +comparing the real product of 1869, $2,052,332,272, as before given, +with the $2,034,317,524, as the result of a multiplication by three each +year. + +The ratio of the increase of our _wealth_, from 1850 to 1860, as shown +by the census, was much greater than that of our population--namely, +126.45 per cent. Multiplying by this ratio (126.45), the result would be +an _additional_ product in 1860, in the Slave States, of $3,427,619,475. +But our wealth increases in an augmented ratio during each decade. + +Thus, the ratio of the increase of our wealth, as shown by the census, +was as follows: + + From 1820 to 1830, 41 per cent. + " 1830 to 1840, 42 " + " 1840 to 1850, 64 " + " 1850 to 1860, 126.45 " + +Thus, the increase of our wealth from 1840 to 1850, was more than 50 per +cent. greater than from 1830 to 1840; and from 1850 to 1860, nearly +double that from 1840 to 1850. At the same duplicate ratio, from 1850 to +1870, the result would be over 250 per cent. That such would have been a +close approximation to the true result, is rendered still more probable +by the fact, that the product of 1859, as shown by the census, was 250 +per cent. greater than that of 1849. + +If, then, instead of 126.45 per cent., we were to assume 250 per cent. +as the ratio, the result would be in 1869, $5,297,708,612, as the +_increased_ product of the Slave States that year, if the ratio _per +capita_ were equal to that of the Free States. If we carry out these +ratios from 1859 to 1869, either of 126.45, or of 250, into the +aggregate of the decade, the results are startling. Assuming, however, +that of the population only, we have seen that the aggregate result in +the decade from 1859 to 1869 was over seventeen billions of dollars, or +largely more than ten times our debt incurred by this rebellion. + +When, then, I reassert the opinion, heretofore expressed by me, that as +the result of the superiority of free over slave labor, our wealth in +1870, and especially in each succeeding decade, as a consequence of the +entire abolition of Slavery in the United States, will be far greater, +notwithstanding the debt, than if the rebellion had never occurred, +there is here presented conclusive official proof of the truth of this +statement. We have seen that our wealth increased from 1850 to 1860, +126.45 per cent., whilst that of England, from 1851 to 1861, augmented +only at the rate of 37 per cent. + +Applying these several ratios to the progress of the wealth of the +United Kingdom and the United States, respectively, in 1870, 1880, 1890, +and 1900, the result is given below. + +We have seen by the census, that our national wealth was, in + + 1850, $7,135,780,228 + 1860, 16,159,616,068 + +Increase from 1850 to 1860, 126.45 per cent. + +England, from 1851 to 1861, 37 per cent. + +Assuming these ratios, the result would be as follows: + + UNITED KINGDOM. + + 1861, wealth, $31,500,000,000 + 1871, " 48,155,000,000 + 1881, " 59,122,350,000 + 1891, " 80,997,619,500 + 1901, " 110,966,837,715 + + + UNITED STATES. + + 1860, wealth, $16,159,616,068 + 1870, " 36,593,450,585 + 1880, " 82,865,868,849 + 1890, " 187,314,353,225 + 1900, " 423,330,438,288 + +Thus, it appears by the census of each nation, that, each increasing in +the same ratio respectively as for the last decade, the wealth of the +United States in 1880 would exceed that of the United Kingdom +$23,743,518,849; that in 1890 it would be much more than double, and in +1900, approaching quadruple that of the United Kingdom. + +When we reflect that England increases in wealth much more rapidly than +any other country of Europe, the value of these statistics may be +estimated, as proving how readily our national debt can be extinguished +without oppressive taxation. + +These are the results, founded on the actual statistics, without +estimating the enormous increase of our national wealth, arising from +the abolition of Slavery. We have seen that, by the official tables of +the census of 1860, the value of the _products_ of the United States, so +far as given, for the year 1859, was $5,290,000,000. But this is very +short of the actual result. The official report (pages 59, 190, 198 to +210) shows that this included _only_ the products of 'agriculture, +manufactures, mines, and fisheries.' In referring to the result as to +'_manufactures_,' at page 59 of his official report before given, the +Superintendent says: 'If to this amount were added the very large +aggregate of mechanical productions below the annual value of $500, of +which no official cognizance is taken, the result would be one of +_startling magnitude_.' + +1. This omission alone, for gross product, is estimated at $500,000,000. + +2. Milk and eggs, fodder, wood, poultry, and feathers, omitted, gross +products, estimated at $350,000,000. + +3. Gross earnings of trade and commerce, including freights, &c., by +land and water, $1,000,000,000. + +4. Gross earnings of all other pursuits and business, including all +other omissions, $1,000,000,000. + +Total gross products of 1860, as thus estimated, $8,140,000,000, of +which the amount for the Free States, as estimated, is $6,558,334,000, +and for the Slave States, $1,581,666,000. + +I have heretofore referred to the vast influence of _education_ as one +of the principal causes of the greater product _per capita_ in the Free +than in the Slave States, of the much larger number of patents, of +inventions, and discoveries, in the former than in the latter. + +At the April meeting of 1844, upon the request of the Society, I +delivered at Washington (D. C.) the Introductory Address for the +National Institute, in which, up to that date, an account was given by +me of 'the various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen +in the inductive sciences.' On reference to that address, which was +published at its date (April, 1844), with their _bulletin_, it will be +seen that, from the great Franklin down to Kinnersley, Fitch, Rumsey, +Fulton, Evans, Rush, the Stevenses of New Jersey, Whitney, Godfrey, +Rittenhouse, Silliman, J. Q. Adams, Cleveland, Adrain, Bowditch, Hare, +Bache, Henry, Pierce, Espy, Patterson, Nulty, Morse, Walker, Loomis, +Rogers, Saxton, and many others; these men, with scarcely an exception, +were from the Free States. + + +EXTRACT. + +And, first, of electricity. This has been cultivated with the greatest +success in our country, from the time when Franklin with his kite drew +down electricity from the thunder cloud, to that when Henry showed the +electrical currents produced by the distant lightning discharge. In +Franklin's day the idea prevailed that there were two kinds of +electricity, one produced by rubbing vitreous substances, the other by +the friction of resinous bodies. Franklin's theory of one electric fluid +in all bodies, disturbed in its equilibrium by friction, and thus +accumulating in one and deserting the other, maintains its ground, still +capable of explaining the facts elicited in the progress of modern +discovery. Franklin believed that electricity and lightning were the +same, and proceeded to the proof. He made the perilous experiment, by +exploring the air with a kite, and drawing down from the thunder cloud +the lightning's discharge upon his own person. The bold philosopher +received unharmed the shock of the electric fluid, more fortunate than +others who have fallen victims to less daring experiments. The world was +delighted with the discoveries of the great American, and for a time +electricity was called Franklinism on the continent of Europe; but +Franklin was born here, and the name was not adopted in England. While +Franklin made experiments, Kinnersley exhibited and illustrated them, +and also rediscovered the seemingly opposite electricities of glass and +resin. Franklin's lightning rod is gradually surmounting the many +difficulties with which it contended, as experience attests the greater +safety of houses protected by the rod, properly mounted, whilst the +British attempt to substitute balls for points has failed. This +question, as to powder magazines, has lately excited much controversy. +Should a rod be attached to the magazine, or should it be placed upon a +post at some distance? This question has been solved by Henry. When an +electrical discharge passes from one body to another, the electricity in +all the bodies in the neighborhood is affected. Henry magnetized a +needle in a long conductor, by the discharge from a cloud, more than a +mile from the conductor. If a discharge passes down a rod, attached to a +powder house, may it not cause a spark to pass from one receptacle for +powder to another, and thus inflame the whole? The electrical plenum, +which Henry supposed, is no doubt disturbed, and to great distances; but +the effect diminishes with the distance. If all the principal conductors +about a building can be connected with a lightning rod, there is no +danger of a discharge; for it is only in leaving or entering a conductor +that electricity produces heating effects; but if not, the rod is safer +at a moderate distance from the building. The rate at which electricity +moved was another of the experiments of Franklin. A wire was led over a +great extent of ground, and a discharge passed through it. No interval +could be perceived between the time of the spark passing to and from the +wire at the two ends. Not long since, Wheatston of England, aided by our +own great mechanic, Saxton, solved the problem. This has induced Arago, +of France, to propose to test the rival theories of light, by similar +means--to measure thus a velocity, to detect which has heretofore +required a motion over the line of the diameter of the earth's orbit. + +In galvanism, our countrymen have made many important discoveries. Dr. +Hare invented instruments of such great power as well to deserve the +names of calorimeter and deflagrator. The most refractory substances +yielded to the action of the deflagrator, melting like wax before a +common fire. Even charcoal was supposed to be fused in the experiments +of Hare and Silliman, and the visionary speculated on the possibility of +black as well as white diamonds. Draper, by his most ingenious galvanic +battery, of two metals and two liquids, with one set of elements, in a +glass tube not the size of the little finger, was able to decompose +water. Faraday, of England, discovered the principle, that when a +current of electricity is set in motion, or stopped in a conductor, a +neighboring conductor has a current produced in the opposite direction. +Henry proved that this principle might be made available to produce an +action of a current upon itself, by forming a conductor in the whirls of +a spiral, so that sparks and shocks might be obtained by the use of such +spirals, when connected with a pair of galvanic plates, a current from +which could give no sparks and no shocks. Henry's discoveries of the +effects of a current in producing several alternations in currents in +neighboring conductors--the change of the quality of electricity which +gives shocks to the muscles into that producing heat, and _vice +versa_--his mode of graduating these shocks--his theoretical +investigations into the causes of these alternations--are abstruse, but +admirable; and his papers have been republished throughout Europe. The +heating effects of a galvanic current have been applied by Dr. Hare to +blasting. The accidents which so often happen in quarries may be avoided +by firing the charge from a distance, as the current which heats the +wire, passing through the charge, may be conveyed, without perceptible +diminution, through long distances. A feeble attempt to attribute this +important invention of Dr. Hare to Colonel Pasley, an English engineer, +has been abandoned. This is the marvellous agent by which our eminent +countryman, Morse, encouraged by an appropriation made by Congress, +will, by means of his electric telegraph, soon communicate information +forty miles, from Washington to Baltimore, more rapidly than by +whispering in the ear of a friend sitting near us. A telegraph on a new +plan at that time, invented by Mr. Grout, of Massachusetts, in 1799, +asked a question and received an answer in less than ten minutes through +a distance of ninety miles. The telegraph of Mr. Morse will prove, I +think, superior to all others; and the day is not distant when, by its +aid, we may perhaps ask questions and receive replies across our +continent, from _ocean to ocean_, thus uniting with steam in enlarging +the limits over which our Republic may be safely extended.[2] + +Many of our countrymen have contributed to the branch which regards the +action of electrified and magnetic bodies. Lukens's application of +magnetism to steel (called _touching_), the compass of Bissel for +detecting local attraction, of Burt for determining the variation of the +compass, and the observations on the variations of the needle made by +Winthrop and Dewitt, deserve notice and commendation. Not long since, +Gauss, of Germany, invented instruments by which the changes of magnetic +variation and force could be accurately determined. Magnetic action is +ever varying. The needle does not point in the same direction for even a +few minutes together. The force of magnetism, also, perpetually varies. +'True as the needle to the pole' is not a correct simile for the same +place, and, if we pass from one spot to another, is falsified at each +change of our position; for the needle changes its direction, and the +force varies. Enlarged and united observations, embracing the various +portions of the world, must produce important results. The observations +at Philadelphia, conducted by Dr. A. D. Bache, and now continued by him +under the direction of the Topographical Bureau, are of great value, and +will, it is hoped, be published by Congress. Part of them have already +first seen the light in Europe--a result much to be regretted, for we +are not strong enough in science to spare from the national records the +contributions of our countrymen. + +These combined observations, progressing throughout the world, are of +the highest importance. The University of Cambridge, the American +Philosophical Society, and Girard College have erected observatories; +and one connected with the Depot of Charts and Instruments has been +built in this city last year by the Government, and thoroughly furnished +with instruments for complete observations. The names of Bache, Gillis, +Pierce, Lovering, and Bond are well known in connection with these +establishments. + +A magnetic survey of Pennsylvania has been made by private enterprise, +and the beginning of a survey in New York. Loomis has observed in Ohio, +Locke in Ohio and Iowa, and to him belongs the discovery of the position +of the point of greatest magnetic intensity in the Western World. Most +interesting magnetic observations (now in progress of publication by +Congress) are the result of the toilsome, perilous, and successful +expedition, under Commander Wilkes, of our navy, by whom was discovered +the Antarctic continent, and a portion of its soil and rock brought home +to our country. + +The analogy of the auroral displays with those of electricity in motion, +was first pointed out by Dr. A. D. Bache, whose researches, in +conjunction with Lloyd of Dublin, to determine whether differences of +longitude could be measured by the observations of small simultaneous +changes in the position of the magnetic needle, led to the knowledge of +the curious fact, that these changes, which had been traced as +simultaneous, or nearly so, in the continent of Europe, did not so +extend across the Atlantic. + +Kindred to these two branches are electro-magnetism and +magneto-electricity, connected with which, as discoverers, are our +countrymen Dana, Green, Hare, Henry, Page, Rogers, and Saxton. The +reciprocal machine for producing shocks, invented by Page, and the +powerful galvanic magnet of Henry, are entitled to respectful notice. +This force, it was thought, might be substituted for steam; but no +experiments have as yet established its use, on any important scale, as +a motive power. The fact that an electrical spark could be produced by a +peculiar arrangement of a coil of wire, connected with a magnet, is a +recent discovery; and the first magneto-electric machine capable of +keeping up a continuous current was invented by Saxton. + +Electricity and magnetism touch in some points upon heat. Heat produces +electrical currents; electrical currents produce heat. Heat destroys +magnetism. Melted iron is incapable of magnetic influence. Reduction of +temperature in iron so far decreases the force, that a celebrated +philosopher made an elaborate series of experiments to ascertain whether +a great reduction of temperature might not develop magnetic properties +in metals other than iron. This branch of thermo-electricity has +received from us but little attention. Franklin's experiments, by +placing differently colored cloths in the snow, and showing the depth to +which they sank, are still quoted, and great praise has been bestowed +abroad on a more elaborate series of experiments, by a descendant of +his, Dr. A. D. Bache, proving that this law does not hold good as to +heat, unaccompanied by light. The experiments of Saxon and Goddard +demonstrate that solid bodies do slowly evaporate. It is proper here to +mention our countryman, Count Rumford, whose discoveries as to the +nature and properties of heat, improvement in stoves and gunnery, and in +the structure of chimneys and economy of fuel, have been so great and +useful. + +Light accompanies heat of a certain temperature. That it acts directly +to increase or decrease magnetic force, is not yet proved; and the +interesting experiments made by Dr. Draper, in Virginia, go to show that +it is without magnetic influence. The discussion of this subject forms, +the branch of optics, touching physical science on the one side, the +most refined, and the highest range of mathematics on the other. +Rittenhouse first suggested the true explanation of the experiment, of +the apparent conversion of a cameo into an intaglio, when viewed through +a compound microscope, and anticipated many years Brewster's theory. +Hopkinson wrote well on the experiment made by looking at a street lamp +through a slight texture of silk. Joscelyn, of New York, investigated +the causes of the irradiation manifested by luminous bodies, as for +instance the stars. Of late, photographic experiments have occupied much +attention, and Draper has advanced the bold idea, supported by +experiment, that the agent in the so-called photography, is not light, +nor heat, but an agent differing from any other known principle. Henry +has investigated the luminous emanation from lime, calcined with +sulphur, and certain other substances, and finds that it differs much +from light in some of its qualities. + +Astronomy is the most ancient and highest branch of physics. One of our +earliest and greatest efforts in this branch was the invention of the +mariner's quadrant, by Godfrey, a glazier of Philadelphia. The transit +of Venus, in the last century, called forth the researches of +Rittenhouse, Owen, Biddle, and President Smith, near Philadelphia, and +of Winthrop, at Boston. Two orreries were made by Rittenhouse, as also a +machine for predicting eclipses. Most useful observations, connected +with the solar eclipses, from 1832 to 1840, have been made by Paine, of +Boston. We have now well-supplied observatories at West Point, +Washington, Cambridge, Philadelphia, Hudson, Ohio, and Tuskaloosa, +Alabama; and the valuable labors of Loomis, Bartlett, Gillis, Bond, +Pierce, Walker, and Kendall are well known. Mr. Adams, so distinguished +in this branch and that of weights and measures, laid last year the +corner stone of an observatory at Cincinnati, where will soon be one of +the largest and most powerful telescopes in the world. Most interesting +observations as to the great comet of 1843 were made by Alexander, +Anderson, Bartlett, Kendall, Pierce, Walker, Downes, and Loomis, and +valuable astronomical instruments have been constructed by Amasa +Holcomb, of Massachusetts, and Wm. J. Young, of Philadelphia. + +It is difficult to class the brilliant meteors of November the 13th, +1833. If such meteors are periodic, the discovery was made by Professor +Olmsted; and Mr. Herrick, of New Haven, has added valuable suggestions. +The idea that observers, differently placed at the time of appearance +and disappearance of the same meteor, would give the means of +determining differences of longitude, was first applied in our own +country, where the difference of longitude of Princeton and Philadelphia +was determined by observations of Henry and Alexander, Espy and Bache. +In meteorology our countrymen have succeeded well. Dr. Wells, of South +Carolina, elaborated his beautiful and original theory of the formation +of dew, and supported it by many well-devised and conclusive +experiments. The series of hourly observations, by Professor Snell and +Captain Mordecai, are well known; and the efforts of New York and +Pennsylvania, of the medical department of the army, and its present +enlightened head, Dr. Lawson, have much advanced this branch of science. +The interesting question, Does our climate change? seems to be answered +thus far in the negative, by registers kept in Massachusetts and New +York. There are two rival theories of storms. That of Redfield, of a +rotary motion of a wide column of air, combined with a progressive +motion in a curved line. Espy builds on the law of physics, examines the +action of an upmoving column of air, shows the causes of its motion and +the results, and then deduces his most beautiful theory of rain and of +land and water spouts. This he puts to the test of observation; and in +the inward motion of wind toward the centre of storms, finds a striking +verification of his theory. This theory is also sustained by the +overthrow or injury, in the recent tornado at Natchez, of the houses +whose doors and windows were closed, while those which were open mostly +escaped unhurt. Mr. Espy must be considered, not only here, but +throughout the world, as at the head of this branch of science. This +subject has been greatly advanced by Professor Loomis, whose paper has +been pronounced, by the highest authority, to be the best specimen of +inductive reasoning which meteorology has produced. The most recent and +highly valuable meteorological works of Dr. Samuel Forry are much +esteemed. Many important discoveries in pneumatics were made by Dr. +Franklin and Count Rumford, and the air pump was also greatly improved +by Dr. Prince, of Salem. + +Chemistry, in all its departments, has been successfully pursued among +us. Dana, Draper, Ellet, Emmet, Hare, the Mitchells, Silliman, and +Torrey, are well known as chemical philosophers; and Booth, Boyé, +Chilton, Keating, Mather, R. Rogers, Seybert, Shepherd, and Vanuxen, as +_analysts_; and F. Bache, Webster, Greene, Mitchell, Silliman, and Hare, +as authors. In my native town of Northumberland, Pennsylvania, resided +two adopted citizens, most eminent as chemists and philosophers, +Priestley and Cooper. The latter, who was one of my own preceptors, was +greatly distinguished as a writer, scholar, jurist, and physician, as +well as a chemist. Priestley, although I do not concur in his peculiar +views of theology, was certainly one of the most able and learned of +ecclesiastical writers, and possessed also a mind most vigorous and +original. His discoveries in pneumatic chemistry have exceeded those of +any other philosopher. He discovered vital air, many new acids, chemical +substances, paints, and dyes. He separated nitrous and oxygenous airs, +and first exhibited acids and alkalies in a gaseous form. He ascertained +that air could be purified by the process of vegetation, and that light +evolved pure air from vegetables. He detected the powerful action of +oxygenous air upon the blood, and first pointed out the true theory of +respiration. The eudiometer, a most curious instrument for fixing the +purity of air, by measuring the proportion of oxygen, was discovered by +Dr. Priestley. He lived and died in my native town, universally beloved +as a man, and greatly admired as a philosopher. Chemistry has actively +advanced among us during the present century. Hare's compound blowpipe +came from his hand so perfect, in 1802, that all succeeding attempts of +Dr. Clark, of England, and of all others, in Europe and America, to +improve upon it or go beyond the effects produced, have wholly failed. +His mode of mixing oxygen and hydrogen gases, the instant before burning +them, was at once simple, effective, and safe. The most refractory +metallic and mineral substances yielded to the intense heat produced by +the flame of the blowpipe. In chemical analysis, the useful labors of +Keating, Vanuxen, Seybert, Booth, Clemson, Litton, and Moss, would fill +many volumes. In organic chemistry, the researches of Clark, Hare, and +Boyé were rewarded by the discovery of a new ether, the most explosive +compound known to man. Mitchell's experiments on the penetration of +membranes by gases, and the ingenious extension of them by Dr. Rogers, +are worthy of all praise. The softening of indiarubber, by Dr. Mitchell, +renders it a most useful article. Dyer's discovery of soda ash yielded +him a competence. Our countrymen have also made most valuable +improvements in refining sugar, in the manufacture of lard oil and +stearin candles, and the preservation of timber by Earle's process. +Sugar and molasses have been extracted in our country from the +cornstalk, but with what, if any profit, as to either, is not yet +determined. No part of mechanics has produced such surprising results as +the steam engine, and our countrymen have been among the foremost and +most distinguished in this great and progressive branch. When Rumsey, of +Pennsylvania, made a steamboat, which moved against the current of the +James River four miles an hour, his achievement was so much in advance +of the age, as to acquire no public confidence. When John Fitch's boat +stemmed the current of the Delaware, contending successfully with sail +boats, it was called, in derision, the _scheme boat_. So the New +Yorkers, when the steamboat of their own truly great mechanic, Stevens, +after making a trip from Hoboken, burnt accidentally one of its boiler +tubes, it was proclaimed a failure. Fulton also encountered unbounded +ridicule and opposition, as he advanced to confer the greatest benefits +on mankind by the application of steam to navigation. So Oliver Evans, +of Pennsylvania (who has made such useful improvements in the flour +mill), was pronounced insane, when he applied to the Legislatures of +Pennsylvania and Maryland for special privileges in regard to the +application of steam to locomotion on common roads. In 1810 he was +escorted by a mob of boys, when his amphibolas was moved on wheels by +steam more than a mile through the streets of Philadelphia to the river +Schuylkill, and there, taking to the water, was paddled by steam to the +wharves of the Delaware, where it was to work as a dredging machine. +Fulton's was the first successful steamboat, Stevens's the first that +navigated the ocean, Oliver Evans's the first high-pressure engine +applied to steam navigation. Stevens's boat, by an accident, did not +precede Fulton's, and Stevens's engine was wholly American, and +constructed entirely by himself, and his propeller resembled much that +now introduced by Ericsson. Stevens united the highest mechanical skill +with a bold, original, inventive genius. His sons (especially Mr. Robert +L. Stevens, of New York) have inherited much of the extraordinary skill +and talent of their distinguished father. The first steamboat that ever +crossed the ocean was built by one of our countrymen, and their skill in +naval architecture has been put in requisition by the Emperor of Russia +and the Sultan of Turkey. The steam machines invented by our countrymen +to drive piles, load vessels, and excavate roads, are most ingenious and +useful. The use of steam, as a locomotive power, upon the water and the +land, is admirably adapted to our mighty rivers and extended territory. +From Washington to the mouth of the Oregon is but one half,[3] and to +the mouth of the Del Norte but one fourth, of the distance of the +railroads already constructed here; and to the latter point, at the rate +of motion (thirty miles an hour) now in daily use abroad, the trip would +be performed in two days, and to the former in four days. Thus, steam, +if we measure distance by the time in which it is traversed, renders our +whole Union, with its most extended limits, smaller than was the State +of New York ten years since. Steam cars have been moved, as an +experiment, both here and abroad, many hundred miles, at the rate of +sixty miles an hour; but what will be the highest velocity ultimately +attained in common use, either upon the water or the land, is a most +important problem, as yet entirely unsolved. Our respected citizens, +Morey and Drake, have endeavored to substitute the force of explosion of +gaseous compounds for steam. The first was the pioneer, and the second +has shown that the problem is still worth pursuing to solution. An +energetic Western mechanic made a bold but unsuccessful effort to put in +operation an engine acting by the expansion of air by heat; and a +similar most ingenious attempt was made by Mr. Walter Byrnes, of +Concordia, Louisiana; as also to substitute compressed air, and air +compressed and expanded, as a locomotive power. All attempts to use air +as a motive power, except the balloon, the sail vessel, the air gun, and +the windmill, have thus far failed; but what inventive genius may yet +accomplish in this respect, remains yet undetermined. There is, it is +true, a mile or more of pneumatic railway used between Dublin and +Kingstown. An air pump, driven by steam, exhausts the air from a +cylinder in which a piston moves; this cylinder is laid the whole length +of the road, and the piston is connected to a car above, so that, as the +piston moves forward on the exhaustion of the air in front of it, the +car is also carried forward. The original idea of this pneumatic railway +was derived from the contrivance of an American, quite unknown to fame, +who, as his sign expressed it, showed to visitors a new mode of carrying +the mail,[4] more simple, and quite as valuable, practically, as this +atmospheric railway. The submerged propeller of Ericsson, and the +submerged paddle wheel, the rival experiments of our two distinguished +naval officers, Stockton and Hunter, are now candidates for public +favor; and the Princeton on the ocean, as she moves in noiseless +majesty, at a speed never before attained at sea, seems to attest the +value of one of these experiments, while the other is yet to be +determined. The impenetrable iron steam vessel of Mr. Stevens is not yet +completed, nor have those terrific engines of war, his explosive shells, +yet been brought to the test of actual conflict. + +In curious and useful mechanical inventions, our countrymen are +unsurpassed, and a visit to our new and beautiful Patent Office will +convince the close observer that the inventive genius of America never +was more active than at the present moment. The machines for working up +cotton, hemp, and wool, from their most crude state to the finest and +most useful fabrics, have all been improved among us. The cotton gin of +Eli Whitney has altered the destinies of one third of our country, and +doubled the exports of the Union. The ingenious improvements for +imitating medals, by parallel lines upon a plain surface, which, by the +distances between them, give all the effects of light and shade that +belong to a raised or depressed surface, invented by Gobrecht and +perfected by Spencer, has been rendered entirely automatic by Saxton, so +that it not only rules its lines at proper distances and of suitable +lengths, but when its work is done it stops. In hydraulics, we have +succeeded well; and the great aqueduct over the Potomac at Georgetown, +constructed by Major Turnbull, of the Topographical Corps, exhibits new +contrivances, in overcoming obstacles never heretofore encountered in +similar projects, and has been pronounced in Europe one of the most +skilful works of the age. + +The abstract mathematics does not seem so well suited to the genius of +our countrymen as its application to other sciences. Those among us who +have most successfully pursued the pure mathematics, are chiefly our +much-esteemed adopted citizens, such as Nulty, Adrain, Bonnycastle, +Gill, and Hassler. Bowditch was an American, and is highly distinguished +at home and abroad. Such men as Plana and Babbage rank him among the +first class, and his commentary on the 'Mécanique Céleste' of Laplace, +has secured for him a niche in the temple of fame, near to that of its +illustrious author. Anderson and Strong are known to all who love +mathematics, and Fischer was cut off by death in the commencement of a +bright career. And may I here be indulged in grateful remembrance of two +of my own preceptors, Dr. R. M. Patterson and Eugene Nulty. The first +was the professor at my Alma Mater (the University of Pennsylvania) in +natural philosophy and the application of mathematics to many branches +of science. He was beloved and respected by all the class, as the +courteous gentleman and the profound scholar; and the Mint of the United +States, now under his direction, at Philadelphia, has reached the +highest point of system, skill, and efficiency. In the pure mathematics +Nulty is unsurpassed at home or abroad. In an earlier day, the elder +Patterson, Ellicot, and Mansfield cultivated this branch successfully in +connection with astronomy. + +A new and extensive country is the great field for descriptive natural +history. The beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, insects, shells, plants, +stones, and rocks are to be examined individually and classed; many new +varieties and species are found, and even new genera may occur. The +learned Mitchell, of New York, delighted in these branches. The eminent +Harlan, of Philadelphia, and McMultrie were of a later and more +philosophic school. Nuttall, of Cambridge, has distinguished himself in +natural history, and Haldeman is rising to eminence. + +Ornithology is one of the most attractive branches of natural history. +Wilson was the pioneer; Ord, his biographer, followed, and his friend +Titian Peale; Audubon is universally known, and stands preëminent; and +the learned Nuttall and excellent and enthusiastic Townsend are much +respected. Most of these men have compassed sea and land, and +encountered many perils and hardships to find their specimens. They have +explored the mountains of the North, the swamps of Florida, the prairies +of the West, and accompanied the Exploring Expedition to the Antarctic, +and round the world. As botanists, the Bartrams, Barton, and Collins, of +Philadelphia, Torrey, of New York, Gray and Nuttall of Cambridge, +Darlington, of Westchester, are much esteemed. The first botanical +garden in our country was that of the Bartons, near Philadelphia; and +the first work on botany was from Barton, of the same city. Logan, +Woodward, Brailsford, Shelby, Cooper, Horsfield, Colden, Clayton, +Muhlenburg, Marshall, Cutler, and Hosack, were also distinguished in +this delightful branch. + +A study of the shells of our country has raised to eminence the names of +Barnes, Conrad, Lea, and Raffinesque. The magnificent fresh-water shells +of our Western rivers are unrivalled in the Old World in size and +beauty. How interesting would be a collection of all the specimens which +the organic kingdom of America presents, properly classified and +arranged according to the regions and States whence they were brought! +Paris has the museum of the natural history of France, and London of +Great Britain; but Washington has no museum[5] of the United States, +though so much richer in all these specimens. + +In mineralogy, the work of Cleveland is most distinguished. Shepherd, +Mather, Troost, Torrey, and a few others, still pursue mineralogy for +its own sake; but, generally, our mineralogists have turned geologists, +studying rocks on a large scale, instead of their individual +constituents, and vieing with their brethren in Europe in bold and +successful generalization, and in the application of physical science to +their subject. Maclure was one of the pioneers, and Eaton and Silliman +contributed much to the stock of knowledge. This school has given rise +to the great geological surveys made or progressing in several of the +States. Jackson, in Maine, Hitchcock, in Massachusetts; Vanuxen, Conrad, +and Mather, in New York; the Rogerses, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and +Virginia; Ducatel, in Maryland; Owen and Locke, in the West; Troost, in +Tennessee; Horton, in Ohio; the courageous, scientific, and lamented +Nicolet, in Missouri, Iowa, and Wisconsin, have made contributions, not +only to the geology of our country, but to the science of geology +itself, which are conceded to be among the most valuable of the present +day. The able reports of Owen and Nicolet were made to Congress, and +deserve the highest commendation. + +In geographical science, the explorations of Lewis and Clark; of Long, +Nicolet, and the able and intrepid Fremont; the effective State survey +of Massachusetts; the surveys of our public lands; the determination of +the boundaries of our States, and especially those of Pennsylvania, by +Rittenhouse and Elliott; of part of Louisiana, by Graham and Kearny; of +Michigan, by Talcott; and of Maine, by Graham; have gained us great +credit. The national work of the coast survey, begun by the late Mr. +Hassler, and prosecuted through all discouragements and difficulties by +that indomitable man, has reflected honor upon his adopted country, +through the Government which liberally supported the work, and through +whose aid it is now progressing, under new auspices, with great +energy.[6] The lake survey is also now advancing under the direction of +Captain Williams, of the Topographical Corps. Among the important recent +explorations, is that of the enlightened, untiring, and intrepid +Fremont, to Oregon, which fixes the pass of the Rocky Mountains within +twenty miles of the northern boundary of Texas. Lieutenant Fremont is a +member of the Topographical Corps, which, together with that of +Engineers, contains so many distinguished officers, whose labors, +together with those of their most able and distinguished chiefs, Colonel +Totten and Colonel Abert, fill so large a portion of the public +documents, and are so well known and highly appreciated by both Houses +of Congress and by the country. The Emperor of Russia has entered the +ranks of our Topographical Corps, and employed one of their +distinguished members, Captain Whistler, to construct his great railroad +from St. Petersburg to Moscow. The travels of our countrymen, Stephens, +to Yucatan and Guatemala, to Egypt, Arabia, and Jerusalem, and of Dr. +Grant to Nestoria, have increased our knowledge of geography and of +antiquities, and have added new and striking proofs of the truths of +Christianity. + +Fossil geology occupied much of the time and attention of the great +philosopher and statesman, Jefferson, and he was rewarded by the +discovery of the megatherium. The mastodon, exhumed in 1801, from the +marl pits of New York, by Charles Wilson Peale, has proved but one of an +order of animal giants. Even the tetracaulodon, or tusked mastodon, of +Godman, upon which rested his claims to fame, is not the most curious of +this order, as the investigations of Hayes and Horner have proved. This +order has excited the attention, not only of such minds as Cooper, +Harlan, and Hayes, but has also occupied the best naturalists of France, +Britain, Germany, and Italy. + +Fossil conchology has attracted the attention of Conrad, the Lees, and +the Rogerses, not only calling forth much ingenuity in description and +classification, but also throwing great light upon the relative ages of +some of the most interesting geological formations. The earthquake +theory of the Rogerses is one of the boldest generalizations, founded +upon physical reasoning, which our geologists have produced. In the +parallel ridges into which the Apalachian chain is thrown, they see the +crests of great earthquake waves, propagated from long lines of focal +earthquake action, more violent than any which the world now witnesses. +The geologist deals in such sublime conceptions as a world of molten +matter, tossed into waves by violent efforts of escaping vapors, +cooling, cracking, and rending, in dire convulsion. He then ceases to +discuss the changes and formation of worlds, and condescends to inform +us how to fertilize our soil, where to look for coal and iron, copper, +tin, cobalt, lead, and where we need not look for either. He is the +Milton of poetry, and the Watt of philosophy. And here let me add, that +the recent application of chemistry to agriculture is producing the most +surprising results, in increasing and improving the products of the +earth, and setting at defiance Malthus's theory of population. + +In medicine, that great and most useful branch of physics, our +countrymen have been most distinguished. From the days of the great +philosopher, physician, patriot, and statesman, Benjamin Rush, down to +the present period, our country has been unsurpassed in this branch; but +I have not time even to give an outline of the eminent Americans, whose +improvements and discoveries in medicine have contributed so much to +elevate the character of our country, and advance the comfort and +happiness of man. Rush, one of the founders of this branch in America, +was one of the signers of our Declaration of Independence, and his +school of medicine was as independent and national as his course in our +Revolutionary struggle. Statistics are chiefly concerned, as furnishing +the facts connected with government and political economy, but they are +also ancillary to physics. The statistical work of Mr. Archibald +Russell, of New York, which immediately preceded the last census, +contained many valuable suggestions, some of which were adopted by +Congress; and had more been incorporated into the law, the census would +have been much more complete and satisfactory. The recent statistical +work of Mr. George Tucker, of Virginia, on the census of 1840, is +distinguished by great talent and research, and is invaluable to the +scholar, the philosopher, the statesman, and philanthropist. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 2: This address was made and published several months before +any electric telegraph line was in operation, and is believed to +be the first prediction of the success of this principle, as +CONTINENTAL or OCEANIC.] + +[Footnote 3: Now only one tenth.] + +[Footnote 4: This Idea unquestionably originated in the United States, +but was improved last year, and has been introduced by Mr. Rammel, of +England.] + +[Footnote 5: We now have several such museums in Washington.] + +[Footnote 6: Our Coast Survey, as commenced by Hassler, and being +completed by Bache, is admitted in Europe to be the best in the world.] + + + + +THE CROSS. + + + Holy Father, Thou this day + Dost a cross upon me lay. + If I tremble as I lift, + First, and feel Thine awful gift, + Let me tremble not for pain, + But lest I may lose the gain + Which thereby my soul should bless, + Through mine own unworthiness. + + Let me, drawing deeper breath, + Stand more firmly, lest beneath + Thy load I sink, and slavishly + In the dust it crusheth me. + Bearing this, so may I strength + Gather to receive at length + In turn eternal glory's great + And far more exceeding weight. + + No, I am not crushed. I stand. + But again Thy helping hand + Reach to me, my pitying Sire: + I would bear my burden higher, + Bear it up so near to Thee, + That Thou shouldst bear it still with me. + + He, upon whose careless head + Never any load is laid, + With an earthward eye doth oft + Stoop and lounge too slothfully: + Burdened heads are held aloft + With a nobler dignity. + + By Thine own strong arm still led, + Let me never backward tread, + Panic-driven in base retreat, + The path the Master's steadfast feet + Unswervingly, if bleeding, trod + Unto victory and God. + + The standard-bearer doth not wince, + Who bears the ensigns of his prince, + Through triumphs, in his galled palm, + Or turn aside to look for balm? + Nay, for the glory thrice outweighs + The petty price of pains he pays! + + Till the appointed time is past + Let me clasp Thy token fast. + Ere I lay it down to rest, + Late or early, be impressed + So its stamp upon my soul + That, while all the ages roll, + Questionless, it may be known + The Shepherd marked me for His own; + Because I wear the crimson brand + Of all the flock washed by His hand-- + For my passing pain or loss + Signed with the eternal cross. + + + + +THE ENGLISH PRESS. + + +IV. + +It was in January, 1785, that there appeared, for the first time, a +journal with the title of _The Daily Universal Register_, the proprietor +and printer of which was John Walter, of Printing House Square, a quiet, +little, out-of-the-way nook, nestling under the shadow of St. Paul's, +not known to one man in a thousand of the daily wayfarers at the base of +Wren's mighty monument, but destined to become as famous and as well +known as any spot of ground in historic London. This newspaper boasted +but four pages, and was composed by a new process, with types consisting +of words and syllables instead of single letters. On New Year's day, +1788, its denomination was changed to _The Times_, a name which is +potent all the world over, whithersoever Englishmen convey themselves +and their belongings, and wherever the mighty utterances of the sturdy +Anglo-Saxon tongue are heard. It was long before the infant 'Jupiter' +began to exhibit any foreshadowing of his future greatness, and he had a +very difficult and up-hill struggle to wage. _The Morning Post_, _The +Morning Herald_, _The Morning Chronicle_, and _The General Advertiser_ +amply supplied or seemed to supply the wants of the reading public, and +the new competitor for public favor did not exhibit such superior +ability as to attract any great attention or to diminish the +subscription lists of its rivals. _The Morning Herald_ had been started +in 1780 by Parson Bate, who quarrelled with his colleagues of _The +Post_. This journal, which is now the organ of mild and antiquated +conservatism, was originally started upon liberal principles. Bate +immediately ranged himself upon the side of the Prince of Wales and his +party, and thus his fortunes were secured. In 1781 his paper sustained a +prosecution, and the printer was sentenced to pay a fine of £100, and to +undergo one year's imprisonment, for a libel upon the Russian +ambassador. For this same libel the printers and publishers of _The +London Courant_, _The Noon Gazette_, _The Gazetteer_, _The Whitehall +Evening Journal_, _The St. James's Chronicle_, and _The Middlesex +Journal_ received various sentences of fine and imprisonment, together +with, in some cases, the indignity of the pillory. Prosecutions for +libel abounded in those days. Horace Walpole says that, dating from +Wilkes's famous No. 45, no less than two hundred informations had been +laid, a much larger number than during the whole thirty-three years of +the previous reign. But the great majority of these must have fallen to +the ground, for, in 1791, the then attorney-general stated that, in the +last thirty-one years, there had been seventy prosecutions for libel, +and about fifty convictions, in twelve of which the sentences had been +severe--including even, in five instances, the pillory. The law of libel +was extremely harsh, to say the least of it. One of its dogmas was that +a publisher could be held criminally liable for the acts of his +servants, unless proved to be neither privy nor assenting to such acts. +The monstrous part of this was that, after a time, the judges refused to +receive any exculpatory evidence, and ruled that the publication of a +libel by a publisher's servant was proof sufficient of that publisher's +criminality. This rule actually obtained until 1843, when it was swept +away by an act of Parliament, under the auspices of Lord Campbell. The +second was even worse; for it placed the judge above the jury, and +superseded the action of that dearly prized safeguard of an +Englishman's liberties, it asserting that it was for the judge alone, +and not for the jury, to decide as to the criminality of a libel. Such +startling and outrageous doctrines as these roused the whole country, +and the matter was taken up in Parliament. Fierce debates followed from +time to time, and the assailants of this monstrous overriding of the +Constitution--for it was nothing less--were unremitting in their +efforts. Among the most distinguished of these were Burke, Sheridan, and +Erskine, the last of whom was constantly engaged as counsel for the +defence in the most celebrated libel trials of the day. In 1791, Fox +brought in a bill for amending the law of libel, and so great had the +change become in public opinion, through the agitation that had been +carried on, that it passed unanimously in the House of Commons. Erskine +took a very prominent part in this measure, and, after demonstrating +that the judges had arrogated to themselves the rights and functions of +the jury, said that if, upon a motion in arrest of judgment, the +innocence of the defendant's intention was argued before the court, the +answer would be, and was, given uniformly, that the verdict of guilty +had concluded the criminality of the intention, though the consideration +of that question had been by the judge's authority wholly withdrawn from +the jury at the trial. The bill met with opposition in the House of +Lords, especially from Lord Thurlow, who procured the postponement of +the second reading until the opinion of the judges should have been +ascertained. They, on being appealed to, declared that the criminality +or innocence of any act was the result of the judgment which the law +pronounces upon that act, and must therefore be in all cases and under +all circumstances matter of law, and not matter of fact, and that the +criminality or innocence of letters or papers set forth as overt acts of +treason, was matter of law, and not of fact. These startling assertions +had not much weight with the House of Lords, thanks to the able +arguments of Lord Camden, and the bill passed, with a protest attached +from Lord Thurlow and five others, in which they predicted 'the +confusion and destruction of the law of England.' Of this bill, Macaulay +says: 'Fox and Pitt are fairly entitled to divide the high honor of +having added to our statute book the inestimable law which places the +liberty of the press under the protection of juries.' Intimately +connected with this struggle for the liberty of public opinion was +another mighty engine, which was brought to bear, and that was the +Public Association, with its legitimate offspring, the Public Meeting. +The power and influence which this organization exerted were enormous, +and, though it was often employed in a bad or unworthy cause--such, for +instance, as the Protestant agitation, culminating in Lord George +Gordon's riots in 1780--yet it has been of incalculable advantage to the +progress of the state, the enlightenment of the nation, and the +advancement of civilization, freedom, and truth. Take, for instance, the +Slave-Trade Association, the object and scope of which are thus +admirably described by Erskine May, in his 'Constitutional History of +England': + + 'It was almost beyond the range of politics. It had no + constitutional change to seek, no interest to promote, no prejudice + to gratify, not even the national welfare to advance. Its clients + were a despised race in a distant clime--an inferior type of the + human family--for whom natures of a higher mould felt repugnance + rather than sympathy. Benevolence and Christian charity were its + only incentives. On the other hand, the slave-trade was supported + by some of the most powerful classes in the country--merchants, + shipowners, planters. Before it could be proscribed, vested + interests must be overborne--ignorance enlightened--prejudices and + indifference overcome--public opinion converted. And to this great + work did Granville Sharpe, Wilberforce, Clarkson, and other noble + spirits devote their lives. Never was cause supported by greater + earnestness and activity. The organization of the society + comprehended all classes and religious denominations. Evidence was + collected from every source to lay bare the cruelties and + iniquities of the traffic. Illustration and argument were + inexhaustible. Men of feeling and sensibility appealed with deep + emotion to the religious feelings and benevolence of the people. If + extravagance and bad taste sometimes courted ridicule, the high + purpose, just sentiments, and eloquence of the leaders of the + movement won respect and admiration. Tracts found their way into + every house, pulpits and platforms resounded with the wrongs of the + negro; petitions were multiplied, ministers and Parliament moved to + inquiry and action.... Parliament was soon prevailed upon to + attempt the mitigation of the worst evils which had been brought to + light, and in little more than twenty years the slave trade was + utterly condemned and prohibited.' + +And this magnificent result sprang from a Public Association. In this, +the most noble crusade that has ever been undertaken by man, the +newspapers bore a conspicuous part, and though, as might be expected, +they did not all take the same views, yet they rendered good service to +the glorious cause. But this tempting subject has carried us away into a +rather lengthy digression from our immediate topic. To return, +therefore: + +In 1786 there was a memorable action for libel brought by Pitt against +_The Morning Herald_ and _The Morning Advertiser_, for accusing him of +having gambled in the public funds. He laid his damages at £10,000, but +only obtained a verdict for £250 in the first case, and £150 in the +second. In 1789 John Walter was sentenced to pay a fine of £50, to be +exposed in the pillory for an hour, and to be imprisoned for one year, +at the expiration of which he was ordered to find substantial bail for +his good behavior for seven years, for a libel upon the Duke of York. In +the following year he was again prosecuted and convicted for libels upon +the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Clarence, but, +after undergoing four months of his second term of one year's +imprisonment, he was set free, at the instance of the Prince of Wales. +The last trial for libel, previous to the passing of Fox's libel bill, +was that of one Stockdale, for publishing a defence of Warren Hastings, +a pamphlet that was considered as libellously reflecting upon the House +of Commons. However, through the great exertions of Erskine, his +counsel, he was acquitted. + +In 1788 appeared the first daily evening paper, _The Star_, which +continued until 1831, when it was amalgamated with _The Albion_. The +year 1789 is memorable for the assumption of the editorship of _The +Morning Chronicle_ by James Perry, under whose management it reached a +greater pitch of prosperity and success than it ever enjoyed either +before or since--greater, in fact, than any journal had hitherto +attained. One of the chief reasons of this success was that he printed +the night's debates in his next morning's issue, a thing which had never +before been accomplished or even attempted. Another secret of Perry's +success was the wonderful tact with which, while continuing to be +thoroughly outspoken and independent, he yet contrived--with one +exception, hereafter to be noticed--to steer clear of giving offence to +the Government. He is thus spoken of by a writer in _The Edinburgh +Review_: 'He held the office of editor for nearly forty years, and he +held firm to his party and his principles all that time--a long time for +political honesty and consistency to last! He was a man of strong +natural sense, some acquired knowledge, a quick tact, prudent, +plausible, and with great heartiness and warmth of feeling.' His want of +education, however, now and then betrayed him into errors, and a curious +instance of this is, that on one occasion, when he meant to say +'epithalamia,' he wrote and printed 'epicedia,' a mistake which he +corrected with the greatest coolness on the following day thus: 'For +'epicedia' read 'epithalamia.' + +The next event of importance is the appearance of Bell's _Weekly +Messenger_, in 1796, a newspaper that met with immediate success, and is +the only one of the weeklies of that period which have survived to the +present time. The year '96 is also remarkable for an action brought by +_The Telegraph_ against _The Morning Post_, for damages suffered by +publishing an extract from a French paper, which purported to give the +intelligence of peace between the Emperor of Germany and France, but +which was forged and surreptitiously sent to _The Telegraph_ by the +proprietors of _The Morning Post_. The result was that _The Telegraph_ +obtained a verdict for £100 damages. In 1794, _The Morning Advertiser_ +had been established by the Licensed Victuallers of London, with the +intention of benefiting by its sale the funds of the asylum which that +body had recently established. It at once obtained a large circulation, +inasmuch as every publican became a subscriber. It exists to the present +day, and is known by the slang _sobriquet_ of the 'Tub,' an appellation +suggested by its _clientèle_. Its opinions are radical, and it is +conducted not without a fair share of ability, but, occasionally +venturing out of its depth, it has more than once been most successfully +and amusingly hoaxed. One of these cases was when a correspondent +contributed an extraordinary Greek inscription, which he asserted had +been recently discovered. This so-called inscription was in reality +nothing but some English doggerel of anything but a refined character +turned into Greek. + +In 1797, Canning brought out _The Anti-Jacobin_ as a Government organ, +and Gifford--who began life as a cobbler's apprentice at an +out-of-the-way little town in Devonshire, and afterward became editor of +_The Quarterly Review_ in its palmiest days--was intrusted with its +management. _The Anti-Jacobin_ lasted barely eight months, but was +probably the most potent satirical production that has ever emanated +from the English press. The first talent of the day was engaged upon it; +and among its contributors we find Pitt, Lord Mornington, afterward +Marquis of Wellesley, Lord Morpeth, afterward Earl of Carlisle, +Jenkinson, afterward Earl of Liverpool, Canning, George Ellis, Southey, +Lord Bathurst, Addington, John Hookham Frere, and a host of other +prominent names at the time. The poetry of _The Anti-Jacobin_--its +strongest feature--has been collected into a volume, which has passed +through several editions. This journal was the first to inaugurate +'sensation' headings; for the three columns which were respectively +entitled 'Mistakes,' 'Misrepresentations,' 'Lies,' and which most +truculently slashed away at the opponents of the political opinions of +_The Anti-Jacobin_, decidedly come under that category. + +We have now arrived at another era of persecution. Those were ticklish +times, and Pitt, fearing lest revolutionary theories might be +promulgated through the instrumentality of the press, determined to +tighten the reins, and curb that freedom of expression which, after an +interval of rest from prosecution, was manifestly degenerating. Poor +Perry was arraigned on a charge of exhibiting a leaning toward France, +and he and his printer were fined and sent to prison. Pitt really +appears to have had good ground for action, in one instance, at least, +for _The Courier_ had made certain statements which might fairly be +construed as hostile to the Government, and favorable to France. +Moreover, it was stated in the House of Commons by the attorney-general, +that a parcel of unstamped newspapers had been seized in a neutral +vessel bound to France, containing information 'which, if any one had +written and sent in another form to the enemy, he would have committed +the highest crime of which a man can be guilty.' Among other things, +the departure of the West India fleet under the convoy of two frigates +only was noticed, and the greatest fears were expressed for its safety +in consequence. Another thing mentioned was, that as there was to be a +levy _en masse_ in this country, the French would not be so ill advised +as to come here, but would make a swoop upon Ireland. A bill was brought +forward, the chief provisions of which were that the proprietors and +printers of all newspapers should inscribe their names in a book, kept +for that purpose at the stamp office, in order that the book might be +produced in court on occasion of any trial, as evidence of the +proprietorship and responsibility, and that a copy of each issue of +every newspaper should be filed at the stamp office, to be produced as +good and sufficient evidence of publication. A vehement debate followed, +in the course of which Lord William Russell declared the bill to be an +insidious blow at the liberty of the press; and Sir W. Pulteney said +that 'the liberty of the press was of such a sacred nature that we ought +to suffer many inconveniences rather than check its influence in such a +manner as to endanger our liberties; for he had no hesitation in saying +that without the liberty of the press the freedom of this country would +be a mere shadow.' But the great speech of the debate was that of Sir +Francis Burdett, who did not then foresee that the time would come when +he himself should make an attack upon the press. + + 'The liberty of the press,' he said, 'is of so delicate a nature, + and so important for the preservation of that small portion of + liberty which still remains to the country, that I cannot allow the + bill to pass without giving it my opposition. A good Government, a + free Government, has nothing to apprehend, and everything to hope + from the liberty of the press; it reflects a lustre upon all its + actions, and fosters every virtue. But despotism courts shade and + obscurity, and dreads the scrutinizing eye of liberty, the freedom + of the press, which pries into its secret recesses, discovering it + in its lurking holes, and drags it forth to public detestation. If + a tyrannically disposed prince, supported by an unprincipled, + profligate minister, backed by a notoriously corrupt Parliament, + were to cast about for means to secure such a triple tyranny, I + know of no means he could devise so effectual for that purpose as + the bill now upon the table.' + +Spite, however, of this vigorous opposition, the bill passed, and among +other coercive measures it decreed heavy penalties against any +infringement of the stamp act, such as: 'Every person who shall +knowingly and wilfully retain or keep in custody any newspaper not duly +stamped, shall forfeit twenty pounds for each, such unstamped newspaper +he shall so have in custody'--'every person who shall knowingly or +wilfully, directly or indirectly, send or carry or cause to be sent or +carried out of Great Britain any unstamped newspaper, shall forfeit one +hundred pounds,' and 'every person during the present war who shall send +any newspaper out of Great Britain into any country not in amity with +his Majesty, shall forfeit five hundred pounds.' Stringent measures +these, with a vengeance! The onslaught initiated by Parliament was well +seconded by the judges, and Lord Kenyon especially distinguished himself +as an unscrupulous (the word is not one whit too strong) foe to the +press. To such an extent was this persecution carried, that the printer, +publisher, and proprietor of _The Courier_ were fined and imprisoned for +the following 'libel' upon the Emperor Paul: 'The Emperor of Russia is +rendering himself obnoxious to his subjects by various acts of tyranny, +and ridiculous in the eyes of Europe by his inconsistency. He has now +passed an edict prohibiting the exportation of timber deal,' etc. To +fine a man £100 and imprison him for six months for this was a little +overstepping the mark, and a reaction soon followed, as a proof of which +may be noticed the act 39th and 40th George III., cap. 72, which allows +the newspaper to be increased from the old regulation size of +twenty-eight inches by twenty to that of thirty inches and a half by +twenty. + +William Cobbett now makes his bow as an English journalist. He was +already notorious in America, as the author of the 'Letters of Peter +Porcupine,' published at Philadelphia; and, upon his return to England, +he projected an anti-democratic newspaper, under the title of _The +Porcupine_, the first number of which appeared in November, 1800. It was +a very vigorous production, and at once commanded public attention and a +large sale. Nevertheless it was but short lived, for the passions and +fears to which it ministered soon calmed down; and, its occupation being +gone, it naturally gave up the ghost and died. Among other celebrities +who now wrote for the newspapers are Porson, the accomplished but +bibulous Greek scholar and critic; Tom Campbell, several of whose most +beautiful poems first appeared in the columns of _The Morning +Chronicle_, Charles Lamb, Southey, Wordsworth, and Mackintosh. These +last five wrote for _The Morning Post_, and raised it, by their +brilliant contributions, from the last place among the dailies--its +circulation had actually sunk to three hundred and fifty before they +joined its ranks--to the second place, and caused it to tread very +closely upon the heels of _The Chronicle_. Tom Campbell, besides his +poetry, wrote prose articles, and was also regularly engaged as a writer +in _The Star_. Porson married James Perry's sister, and many scholarly +articles which graced the columns of _The Morning Chronicle_ toward the +close of the eighteenth century are generally believed to have emanated +from his pen. Mackintosh had written foreign political articles in _The +Oracle_ and _Morning Chronicle_, but, marrying the sister of Daniel +Stuart, the proprietor of _The Morning Post_ and _The Courier_, he +transferred his services to those journals, as well as occasionally to +_The Star_, which belonged to a brother of Stuart. Southey and +Wordsworth's contributions to Stuart's papers were principally poetry. +Charles Lamb's contributions were principally short, witty paragraphs, +which he contributed to any of the papers that would receive them, and +for which he received the magnificent remuneration of sixpence each! +Coleridge had first appeared in the newspaper world as a contributor of +poetry to _The Morning Chronicle_, but was soon after regularly engaged +upon _The Morning Post_ and _The Courier_. Some of his prose articles +have been collected together into a volume, and republished with the +title of 'Essays on His Own Times.' He was especially hostile to France, +and the best proof of the ability and vigor of his anti-Gallican +articles is that Napoleon actually sent a frigate in pursuit of him, +when he was returning from Leghorn to England, with the avowed intention +of getting him into his power if possible. The First Consul had +endeavored to get him arrested at Rome, but Coleridge got a friendly +hint--according to some from Jerome Bonaparte, and according to others +from the Pope, who assisted him in making his escape. Bonaparte had +probably gained intelligence of the whereabout of Coleridge from a +debate in the House of Commons, in the course of which Fox said that the +rupture of the Peace of Amiens was owing to Coleridge's articles in _The +Morning Post_, and added that the writer was then at Rome, and therefore +might possibly fall into the hands of his enemy. Napoleon was very much +irritated by the attacks upon him in _The Morning Chronicle_ as well as +by those in Cobbett's _Political Register_--_The Porcupine_ under a new +name--the _Courrier François de Londres_--the French _emigrés'_ +paper--and _L'Ambigu_, which was rather a political pamphlet, published +at periodical intervals, than a regular newspaper. He therefore thought +proper peremptorily to call upon the English Government to put these +papers down with a high hand. But the British cabinet sent this noble +reply: + + 'His Majesty neither can nor will in consequence of any + representation or menace from a foreign power make any concession + which may be in the smallest degree dangerous to the liberty of the + press as secured by the Constitution of this country. This liberty + is justly dear to every British subject; the Constitution admits of + no previous restraints upon publications of any description; but + there exist judicatures wholly independent of the executive, + capable of taking cognizance of such publications as the law deems + to be criminal; and which are bound to inflict the punishment the + delinquents may deserve. These judicatures may investigate and + punish not only libels against the Government and magistracy of + this kingdom, but, as has been repeatedly experienced, of + publications defamatory of those in whose hands the administration + of foreign Governments is placed. Our Government neither has, nor + wants, any other protection than what the laws of the country + afford; and though they are willing and ready to give to every + foreign Government all the protection against offences of this + nature which the principles of their laws and Constitution will + admit, they can never consent to new-model those laws or to change + their Constitution to gratify the wishes of any foreign power.' + +But Napoleon indignantly declined to avail himself of the means of +redress suggested to him, and continued to urge the English Government; +who at length made a sort of compromise, by undertaking a prosecution of +Peltier, the proprietor of _L'Ambigu_. Mackintosh was his counsel; and +in spite of his speech for the defence, which Spencer Perceval +characterized as 'one of the most splendid displays of eloquence he ever +had occasion to hear,' and Lord Ellenborough as 'eloquence almost +unparalleled,' Peltier was found guilty--but, as hostilities soon after +broke out again with France, was never sentenced. The best part of the +story, however, is, that all the time ministers were paying Peltier in +private for writing the very articles for which they prosecuted him in +public! This did not come out until some years afterward, when Lord +Castlereagh explained the sums thus expended as 'grants for public and +not private service, and for conveying instructions to the Continent +when no other mode could be found.' The trial of Peltier aroused a +strong feeling of indignation in the country; the English nation has +always been very jealous of any interference with its laws at the +dictation of any foreign potentate, as Lord Palmerston on a recent +occasion found to his cost. + +Cobbett was soon after tried for a libel--not, however, upon Napoleon, +but upon the English Government. There must have been an innate tendency +in Cobbett's mind to set himself in opposition to everything around him, +for whereas he had made America too hot to hold him by his +anti-republican views, he now contrived to set the authorities at home +against him by his advanced radicalism. He had to stand two trials in +1804, in connection with Robert Emmet's rebellion. On the second of +these he was fined £500, and Judge Johnson, one of the Irish judges, who +was the author of the libels complained of, retired from his judicial +position with a pension. These reflections in question upon the Irish +authorities would hardly be called libels now-a-days, consisting as they +did chiefly of ridicule and satire, which was, after all, mild and +harmless enough. In 1810, Cobbett got into trouble again. Some militia +soldiers had been flogged, while a detachment of the German Legion stood +by to maintain order. Cobbett immediately published a diatribe against +flogging in the army and the employment of foreign mercenaries. He was +indicted for a 'libel' upon the German Legion, convicted, and sentenced +to two years' imprisonment, to pay a fine of £1,000, and to find +security in £3,000 for his good behavior during seven years--a sentence +which created universal disgust among all classes, and which was not too +strongly designated by Sydney Smith as 'atrocious.' + +_The Oracle_--which, by the way, boasted Canning among its +contributors--was rash enough to publish an article in defence of Lord +Melville. The House of Commons fired up at this, and, led on by +Sheridan--_quantum mutatus ab illo!_--Fox, Wyndham, and others, who had +formerly professed themselves friends to the liberty of the press, but +who were now carried away by the virulence of party spirit, caused the +publisher to be brought before them, and made him apologize and make his +submission upon his knees. + +In 1805 appeared _The News_, a paper started by John Hunt and his +brother Leigh, then but a mere boy, but who had, nevertheless, had some +experience in newspaper writing from having been an occasional +contributor to _The Traveller_, an evening paper, that was afterward +amalgamated with _The Globe_, which still retains the double title. The +year 1808 was fruitful in prosecutions for libels, but is chiefly +remarkable for the appearance of Hunt's new paper, _The Examiner_. This +was conducted upon what was styled by their opponents revolutionary +principles, an accusation which Leigh Hunt afterward vehemently +repudiated. This same year also gave birth to the first religious paper +which had as yet appeared, under the name of _The Instructor_, as well +as to _The Anti-Gallican_, which seems to have quickly perished of +spontaneous combustion, and _The Political Register_, an impudent piracy +of the title of Cobbett's paper, and directed against him. In 1809, +Government passed a bill in favor of newspapers, to amend some of the +restrictions under which they labored. This was done on account of the +high price of paper: and yet in the following year another attempt was +made to exclude the reporters from the House of Commons. These men had +always done their work well and honestly, although in their private +lives some of them had not borne the very best character. A capital +story is told of Mark Supple, an Irish reporter of the old school, who +was employed on _The Chronicle_. One evening, when there was a sudden +silence in the midst of a debate, Supple bawled out: 'A song from Mr. +Speaker.' The members could not have been more astonished had a +bombshell been suddenly discharged into the midst of them; but, after a +slight pause, every one--Pitt among the first--went off into such shouts +of laughter, that the halls of the House shook again. The +sergeant-at-arms was, however, sent to the gallery to ascertain who had +had the audacity to propose such a thing; whereupon Supple winked at him +and pointed out a meek, sober Quaker as the culprit. Broadbrim was +immediately taken into custody; but Supple, being found out, was locked +up in a solitary chamber to cool his heels for a while, and then having +made a humble apology, to the effect that 'it was the dhrink that did +it,' or something of the kind, was set at liberty. But the reporters at +the period of this unjust and foolish exclusion--for it was successful +for a time--were a very different class of men; and Sheridan told the +House that 'of about twenty-three gentlemen who were now employed +reporting parliamentary debates for the newspapers, no less than +eighteen were men regularly educated at the universities of Oxford or +Cambridge, Edinburgh or Dublin, most of them graduates at those +universities, and several of them had gained prizes and other +distinctions there by their literary attainments.' It was during this +debate that Sheridan uttered that memorable and glowing eulogium upon +the press which has been quoted in the first of the present series of +articles. + +It has been shown that at one time the church was the profession which +most liberally supplied the press with writers; but now the bar appears +to have furnished a very large share, and many young barristers had +been and were reporters. The benchers of Lincoln's Inn endeavored to put +a stop to this, and passed a by-law that no man who had ever been paid +for writing in the newspapers should be eligible for a call to the bar. +This by-law was appealed against in the House of Commons, and, after a +debate, in which Sheridan spoke very warmly against the benchers, the +petition was withdrawn upon the understanding that the by-law should be +recalled. From that time to the present, writing in the newspapers and +reporting the debates have been the means whereby many of the most +distinguished of our lawyers have been enabled to struggle through the +days of their studentship and the earlier years of their difficult +career. + +The last attempt of the House of Commons against the press culminated in +Sir Francis Burdett's coming forward in its behalf, and, in an article +in Cobbett's paper, among other things he asserted that the House of +Commons had no legal right to imprison the People of England. In acting +thus, Sir Francis amply atoned for the ridiculous attempt which, +prompted by wounded vanity, he had made a few years before to engage the +interference of the House of Commons in his behalf in what he called a +breach of privilege--the said breach of privilege consisting merely in +an advertisement in _The True Briton_ of the resolutions passed at a +public meeting to petition against his return to Parliament. The results +of his bold attack upon the power of the House of Commons, his +imprisonment, the riots, and lamentable loss of life which followed, are +so well known as to render any particularizing of them here unnecessary. +Originating with this affair was a Government prosecution of _The Day_, +the upshot of which was that Eugenius Roche, the editor--who was also +proprietor of another flourishing journal, _The National Register_--one +of the most able, honorable, and gentlemanly men ever connected with the +press, of whom it has been truly said that 'during the lapse of more +than twenty years that he was connected with the journals of London, he +never gained an enemy or lost a friend,' was most unjustly condemned to +a year's imprisonment. + +The next important event is the trial of the Hunts for a libel in _The +Examiner_ in 1811. Brougham was their counsel, and made a masterly +defence; and, though Lord Ellenborough, the presiding judge, summed up +dead against the defendants--the judges always appear to have done +so--the jury acquitted them. Yet Brougham in the course of his address +drew the following unfavorable picture of the then state of the press: + + 'The licentiousness of the press has reached to a height which it + certainly never attained in any other country, nor even in this at + any former period. That licentiousness has indeed of late years + appeared to despise all the bounds which had once been prescribed + to the attacks on private character, insomuch that there is not + only no personage so important or exalted--for of that I do not + complain--but no person so humble, harmless, and retired as to + escape the defamation which is daily and hourly poured forth by the + venal crew to gratify the idle curiosity or still less excusable + malignity of the public. To mark out for the indulgence of that + propensity individuals retiring into the privacy of domestic + life--to hunt them down and drag them forth as a laughing stock to + the vulgar, has become in our days with some men the road even to + popularity, but with multitudes the means of earning a base + subsistence.' + +Soon after this trial and another provincial one connected with the same +'libel'--one gets quite sick of the word--in which the defendants were +found guilty in spite of Brougham's exertions in their behalf and the +previous verdict of the London jury in the case of the Hunts, a debate +arose in the House of Commons on the subject of _ex-officio_ +informations generally, and especially with regard to their +applicability to the case of newspapers. In the course of this debate +Lord Folkestone charged the Government with partiality in their +prosecutions, and said: 'It appears that the real rule which guides +these prosecutions is this: that _The Courier_ and the other papers +which support the ministry of the day, may say whatever they please +without the fear of prosecution, whereas _The Examiner_, _The +Independent Whig_, _The Statesman_, and papers that take the contrary +line, are sure to be prosecuted for any expression that may be offensive +to the minister'--an accusation which was decidedly true. + +In 1812 the Hunts were again prosecuted for a libel upon the Prince +Regent, and sentenced to be imprisoned two years, and to pay a fine of +£500. Bat the imprisonment was alleviated in every possible way, as we +gather from Leigh Hunt's charming description of his prison in his +Autobiography. + + 'I papered the walls with a trellis of roses; I had the ceiling + colored with clouds and sky; the barred windows were screened with + venetian blinds; and when my book cases were set up with their + busts and flowers, and a pianoforte made its appearance, perhaps + there was not a handsomer room on that side of the water.... There + was a little yard outside, railed off from another belonging to a + neighboring ward. This yard I shut in with green palings, adorned + it with a trellis, bordered it with a thick bed of earth from a + nursery, and even contrived to have a grass plot. The earth I + filled with flowers and young trees. There was an apple tree from + which we managed to get a pudding the second year. As to my + flowers, they were allowed to be perfect.' + +We have now arrived at a period which may almost be called that of the +present, inasmuch as many well-known names which still continue to adorn +our current literature first begin to appear, together with many others, +the bearers of which have but recently departed from among us. Cyrus +Redding, John Payne Collier, and Samuel Carter Hall still survive, and, +it is to be hoped, are far off yet from the end of their honorable +career; and William Hazlitt, Theodore Hook, Lord Campbell, Dr. Maginn, +Dr. Croly, Thomas Barnes, William Jordan, and many others, belong as +much to the present generation as to the past. Among other distinguished +writers must be mentioned Jeremy Bentham and David Ricardo, who +contributed articles of sterling merit upon political economy and +finance to the newspapers, and especially to _The Morning Chronicle_, in +which journal William Hazlitt succeeded Lord Campbell, then 'plain John +Campbell,' as theatrical critic. Cyrus Redding was at one time editor of +_Galignani's Messenger_, and was afterward connected with _The Pilot_, +which was considered the best authority on Indian matters, and in some +way or another, at different times, with most of the newspapers of the +day. John P. Collier wrote in _The Times_ and _Morning Chronicle_, +Thomas Barnes in _The Morning Chronicle_ and _Champion_, Croly and S. C. +Hall in _The New Times_--a newspaper started by Stoddart, the editor of +_The Times_, after his quarrel with Walter--Maginn in _The New Times_, +_Standard_, _John Bull_, and many others, William Hazlitt in _The +Morning Chronicle_, _Examiner_, and _Atlas_, and Theodore Hook in _John +Bull_, of which he was the editor. + +In 1815, the advertisement duty, which had hitherto stood at three +shillings, was raised to three shillings and sixpence, and an additional +halfpenny was clapped on to the stamp duty. There were then fifty-five +newspapers published in London, of which fifteen were daily, one hundred +and twenty-two in the provinces of England and Wales, twenty-six in +Scotland, and forty-nine in Ireland. + +And here let us pause to consider the position which the press had +reached. It had survived all the attempts made to crush it; nay, more, +it had triumphed over all its foes. Grateful to Parliament, whenever +that august assemblage befriended it, and standing manfully at bay +whenever its liberties had been threatened in either House, it had +overcome all resistance, and Lords and Commons recognized in it a safe +and honorable tribunal, before which their acts would be impartially +judged, as well as the truest and most legitimate medium between the +rulers and the ruled. The greatest names of the day in politics and in +literature were proud to range themselves under its banners and to aid +in the glorious work of extending its influence, developing its +usefulness, and elevating its tone and character; and the people at +large had learned to look upon it as the firm friend of national +enlightenment, and the most trustworthy guardian of their constitutional +liberties. + + + + +LIFE ON A BLOCKADER. + + +Life in the camp and in the field has formed the staple of much writing +since the commencement of the war, and all have now at least a tolerable +idea of the soldier's ordinary life. Our sailors are a different matter, +and while we study the daily papers for Army news, we are apt to ignore +the Navy, and forget that, though brave men are in the field, a smaller +proportion of equally brave serve on a more uncertain field, where not +one alone but many forms of death are before them. Shot and shell it is +the soldier's duty to face, and the sailor's as well, but one ball at +sea may do the work of a thousand on shore: it may pass through a +vessel, touching not a soul on board, and yet from the flying splinters +left in its path cause the death of a score; its way may lie through the +boilers, still touching no one, and yet the most horrible of all deaths, +that by scalding steam, result. It may chance to hit the powder +magazine, and sudden annihilation be the fate of both ship and crew; or, +passing below the water line, bring a no less certain, though slower +fate--that which met the brave little Keokuk at Charleston, not many +months since. + +Life at sea is a compound of dangers, and though the old tar may +congratulate himself in a stormy night on being safe in the maintop, and +sing after Dibdin-- + + 'Lord help us! how I pitys + All unhappy folks on shore'-- + +to the majority of our present Navy, made up as it is, in part at least, +of volunteer officers and men, it is essentially distasteful, and +endured only as the soldier endures trench duty or forced marches--as a +means of sooner ending the Rebellion, and bringing white-winged Peace in +the stead of grim War. + +The history of our ironclads, from their first placing on the stocks, to +the present time, when Charleston engrosses them all, is read with +avidity, but few know anything of life on our blockaders, or, thinking +there is not the dignity of danger associated with them, take little or +no interest in what they may chance to see concerning them. Those who +have friends on blockade duty may be interested to know more of their +daily life than can be crowded into the compass of home letters, and the +writer, one of the squadron off Wilmington, would constitute himself +historian of the doings of at least one ship of the fleet. + +Wilmington, Charleston, and Mobile, alone remain of all the rebel ports, +but it is with the first we have to do--where it is, how it looks, &c. + +Right down the coast, some 450 miles from New York, and a hundred or +more from the stormy cape of Hatteras, you will see the river which +floats the merchandise to and from the docks at Wilmington, emptying +into the ocean at Cape Fear, from which it takes its name. The river has +two mouths, or rather a mouth proper, which opens to the south of the +cape, and an opening into the side of the river, north of the cape +called New Inlet. Perhaps more seek entrance by this inlet than the +mouth, which is guarded by Fort Caswell, a strong, regularly built fort, +once in Union hands, mounting some long-range English Whitworth guns. +One other fort has been built here since the commencement of the war. +This inlet is guarded by a long line of earthworks, mounted by Whitworth +and other guns of heavy caliber. Wilmington lies some twenty miles from +the mouth, and fifteen north of New Inlet. + +One great characteristic of this coast is the columns of smoke, which +every few miles shoot up from its forests and lowlands. All along the +coasts may be seen mounds where pitch, tar, and turpentine are being +made. These primitive manufactories for the staple of North Carolina are +in many places close down to the water's edge, whence their products may +easily be shipped on schooners or light-draft vessels, with little +danger of being caught by the blockaders, who draw too much water to +make a very near approach to shore. So much for the coast we guard; now +for ourselves. + +Our vessel, of some thirteen hundred tons, and manned by a crew of about +200 all told, reached blockade ground the early part of March. Our +voyage down the coast had been unmarked by any special incident, and +when at dusk, one spring afternoon, we descried a faint blue line of +land in the distance, and knew it as the enemy's territory, speculation +was rife as to the prospect of prizes. About 11 P. M. a vessel +hove in sight, which, as it neared, proved to be a steamer of about half +our tonnage. Our guns were trained upon the craft, but, instead of +running, she steamed up toward us. We struck a light, but it was as loth +to show its brightness as the ancient bushel-hidden candle. A rope was +turpentined, and touched with burning match, but the flame spread up and +down the whole spiral length of the rope torch, to the infinite vexation +of the lighter. Fierce stampings and fiercer execrations swiftly +terrorized the trembling quartermaster, who, good fellow, did his best, +and then, frightened into doing something desperate, made this blaze. We +hailed them while waiting for fire to throw signals, letting them know +who we were; but the wind carried away our shoutings, and the vessel +actually seemed inclined to run us down. Worse yet--what could the +little vixen mean?--a bright light, flashed across her decks, showed +gathering round her guns a swift-moving band of men. Her crew were +training their guns upon us for our swift capture or destruction: she +could not see our heavy weight of metal, for our ports were closed. She +might be a friend, for so her signal lights seemed to indicate; but if +of our fleet, how should we let her know in time to save the loss of +life and irreparable harm a single ball from her might do? She had +waited long enough for friendly signals from us, and the wind, which +swept our shouts from hearing, brought to us from them, first, questions +as to who we were, then threats to fire if we did not quickly tell, and +then orders passed to the men at the foremost gun: 'One point to the +starboard train her!'--words which made their aim on us more sure and +fatal. 'Bear a hand with that fire and torch! Be quick, for God's sake, +or we'll have a shot through us, and that from a friend, unless we blaze +away like lightning with our rockets.' The crew were stepping from the +gun to get out of the way as it was fired; the captain of the gun held +the lock string in his hand; but the instant had not been lost, and our +rockets, springing high in air, told our story. Danger is past: we learn +they are not only friends, but to be neighbors, and steam in together to +our post rather nearer the shore than other vessels here. + +Days pass on in watching, and as yet no foreign sail. We study the line +of our western horizon, and find it well filled in with forts, +embrazures, earthworks, black-nosed dogs of war, and busy traitors. As +time goes on, a new thing opens to the view: a short week ago it seemed +but a molehill: now it has risen to the height of a man, and hourly +increases in size. Two weeks, and now its summit is far above the reach +of spade or shovel throw, and crowned by a platform firmly knit and held +together by well-spliced timbers. As to its object we are somewhat +dubious, but think it the beginning of an earthwork fortress, built high +in order that guns may be depressed and brought to bear on the turrets +of any Monitors which might possibly come down upon this place or +Wilmington. + +At night we draw nearer to the shore, watching narrowly for blockade +runners, which evade us occasionally, but oftener scud away +disappointed. One night or early morning, 3 A. M. by the clock, +we tried to heave up anchor; the pin slipped from the shackles, and the +anchor, with forty fathoms of chain attached, slipped and sank to the +bottom in some eight fathoms of water. + +The next day we steamed into our moorings of the previous night and +sought to drag for it. While arranging to do so, we saw a puff of smoke +from the shore. Bang! and a massive cannon ball tore whizzing over our +heads. The shore batteries had us in their range, and the firing from +the far-reaching Whitworth guns grows more rapid. Puff after puff rolls +up from the long line of battery-covered hillocks, under the bastard +flag, and the rolling thunder peals on our ears with the whizzing of +death-threatening balls. Oh! the excitement of watching and wondering +where the next ball will strike, and whether it will crush a hole right +through us, wasting rich human life, and scattering our decks with +torn-off limbs and running pools of blood. Quickly as possible we up +anchor and away, and soon are out of reach of balls, which splash the +water not a ship's length from us. Even then we involuntarily dodge +behind some pine board or other equally serviceable screen; and a +newspaper, if that were nearest, would be used for the same purpose--so +say those who have tasted many a naval fight. In fact, the dodge is as +often after the ball has hit as before, as this story of one of our +brave quartermasters will prove: Under fire from rebel batteries, he +noted the cloud of smoke which burst from one of the fort's +embrazures--watched sharply for the ball--heard the distant roar and its +cutting whiz overhead--watched still further, saw it fall into the sea +beyond, and then sang out to the captain, 'There it fell, sir!' and like +lightning dodged behind a mast, as though the necessity had but just +occurred to him. + +As our rebel friends see their shot falling short of us, the firing +ceases, and thus harmlessly ends the action which for a few moments +threatened so much, teaching us the folly of too near approaches to +land, or attempts to batter down, to which we have often been tempted, +the earthworks daily erecting. It is folly to attempt it, because the +disabling of these few blockade steamers would open the port to all who +choose to barter with our Southern foes; and, _en passant_, this will +explain why here and elsewhere the rebels build their works under the +very noses of our men-of-war. Thus a vessel runs the blockade, and takes +into them English Whitworth guns, which send balls flying through the +air a good five miles, and whose range is longer than our far-famed +Parrott rifled cannon. These Whitworths they place concealed in +hillsides, or in forests back of the places where they build the regular +fort to protect them. If our vessels approach to batter down these germs +of forts, fire is opened on us from these long rangers, and nine chances +out of ten we are disabled before we can so much as touch them with our +guns; so that for ourselves we accomplish nothing, thereby benefiting +them. + +Week days and Sundays pass on alike as far as outside incident is +concerned, but new features in each other open to view as time goes on. +Naval discipline develops the bump of reverence, or at any rate fosters +it for a time, and to the volunteer in his first days or weeks passed on +board a man-of-war, the dignified captain in the retirement of his cabin +is an object of veneration, and the slight peculiarities of some other +officers, merely ornamental additions to shining characters. On a +Sunday, for instance, in the early part of the cruise, the said bump +receives as it were a strengthening plaster, at the sight of officers +and men in full dress--the first resplendent in gold-banded +caps--multiplied buttons--shining sword hilts, et cetera, et cetera, and +the men in white ducks, blue shirts, et cetera, scattered about the +decks in picturesque groups. The captain, from the fact of his occupying +a private cabin, and seeing the officers merely to give orders or +receive reports in the line of their duty, comes but little in contact +with them, and, as there is a certain idea of grandeur in isolation, +obliges a degree of reverence not accorded to those with whom one is in +constant intercourse. A slight feeling of superiority always exists in +the minds of those of the regular navy over the volunteer officers, and +though at first the ward-room mess all seemed 'hail fellow, well met,' +familiarity develops various traits and tendencies, which, in a mess of +eight or nine, will not be persuaded to form a harmonious whole. Our +lieutenant, for instance, who, in the first days of the cruise, appeared +a compound of all the Christian graces, and a 'pattern of a gentleman,' +develops a pleasant little tendency to swear viciously on slight +provocation, and, though, rather afraid to indulge his propensities to +the full, lest the rules of naval service be violated, and disgrace +follow, still recreates himself privately, by pinching the little +messenger boys till they dance, and gritting his teeth, as if he longed +to do more, but didn't dare. It is wonderful how salt water develops +character. Our (on land) _debonnaire_, chivalrous executive, is merged +in the swearing blackguard as far as he can be; and yet strange as it +may seem, no man can be braver in time of danger, or apparently more +forgetful of self. Our paymaster, too, has suffered a sea change: the +gentleman is put away with his Sunday uniform, and taken out to air only +when it is politic to do so: wine and cigars, owned by somebody else, +occasion its instant appearance. No man on ship can show more deference +for another's feelings where the captain is concerned; no man more +thorough disregard where the sailors come into question. Yet this man +has also his redeeming points or point, made perceptible by a solitary +remark, remembered in his favor at times when the inclination has been +to call him a hypocritical scoundrel. One of the mess, rather given to +profanity, said to him one day: 'Paymaster, what's the reason you never +swear?' 'Because,' was the answer, 'I never set an example at home which +I would not wish my children to follow, and so I've got out of the way +of it.' + +Various criticisms might be made on officers and men: there are +characters enough among them to furnish material for a volume. Some are +moderately patriotic, but would have been as much so on the other side, +had as strong inducements been held out in the way of 'loaves and +fishes.' Others love the cause for itself, and hold life cheap if its +sacrifice may in any way advance it. Blockade duty is perhaps a harder +test of this love than actual field service; and as months pass on, it +becomes almost unendurable. The first few days can be taken up in sight +seeing on board, and the most novel of these said sights is the drill +which follows the daily call to quarters. The rapid roll of the drum is +the signal: here, there, everywhere, on berth deck, spar deck, quarter +deck, men spring to their feet, jump from their hammocks, and every door +and passage way is blocked up by the crowd, who rush to their respective +quarters, and about the armory, each seeking to be the first, who, fully +equipped with cutlass, gun, and sabre-bayonet affixed, shall be in his +place. Another instant, and all stand about their several guns in rows, +awaiting orders from their officers, who sing out in clear commanding +tones, as though a real fight were impending: 'Pass 9-inch shell and +load!' They drive it home. 'Now run out! train her two points off port +quarter; elevate for five hundred yards! Fire! Run her in! Run out +starboard gun! Run her home! Train her three points off starboard +quarter! Fire!' + +High up on the bridge of the hurricane deck, stands the first +lieutenant, overlooking the men as they work the guns, train, load, run +out, and mimic fire. Suddenly he shouts through the trumpet: 'Boarders +and pikemen at port quarter! First boarders advance! Second boarders +advance! Repel boarders! Retreat boarders! Pikemen cover cutlass +division! Fire! Repel boarders!' The second hand scarcely sweeps over a +quarter of its dial before the men have crowded around the port +bulwarks, and are slashing the air with a most Quixotic fury--then +crouch on bent knee, to make ready their pistols, while in their rear, +marines and pikemen, musket and rifle armed, snap their pieces, and pour +into an imaginary foe a vast volley of imaginary balls; then pierce the +air with savage bayonet thrusts. The farce, and yet a most useful farce, +is gone through with. The retreat is ordered to be beat, and all retire; +refill the armory with their deadly rifles and side arms, and then +return to their respective watches, work, or recreation--some gathering +round a canvas checker board; some polishing up bright work; others +making pants, shirts, or coats, or braiding light straw hats. Some are +aloft, and watching with eager eyes to catch the first glimpse of a sail +on the distant horizon; and this he must do from his loftly outlook +before the officer of the deck or quartermaster espies one, as they +sweep the sky with their long-reaching glasses--else he may suffer +reprimand and prison fare. + +These and our meals are epochs which measure out the time, between which +the minutes and hours pass most wearily, and are filled with longings +for home or some welcome words from there, the next meal, or the drum +beat to quarters. Said one to me whose time is not used up as is that of +the watch officers, by four-hour watches twice in the twenty-four hours: +'When breakfast's done, the next thing I look forward to is dinner, and +when that's done, I look for supper time, and then wait in patience till +the clock strikes ten, and the 'master at arms' knocks at our several +doors, saying: 'Four bells, gentlemen; lights out, sirs.'' So time drags +often for weeks together. No new excitement fills the head with thought, +and more or less of _ennui_ takes hold on all. In fact, some consider +life on shipboard not many removes from prison life; and a man +overflowing with the sap of life, whose muscles from head to foot tingle +for a good mile run across some open field, a tramp through a grand +forest, or climb of some mountain crag, and who loves the freedom of +good solid _terra firma_--he, I say, feels like a close-caged lion. + +After every calm comes a storm, and so, after weeks of listless waiting, +doing nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, a very gale of bustle +comes on. 'Sail ho!' comes from the lookout aloft. 'One point off our +starboard bow!' 'Man the windlass and up anchor!' shouts the officer of +the deck, as the strange sail bears down steadily toward us, finally +showing signals which tell us she's a friend and brings a mail. The +Iroquois steams out to meet her; their anchors drop, and they hold +friendly confab. We, too, soon come up, and hear that letters, papers, +fresh meat, and ice await us, on the good old Bay State steamer +Massachusetts. We prepare to lower boats and get our goodies, when we +are told from the Iroquois that a sail lies far off to the N. N. E., and +are ordered off on chase. 'It never rains but it pours,' think we. +Letters, goodies, and now a chance at a prize! 'Begone dull care!' 'Ay, +ay, sir!' responds swift-vanishing _ennui_, as our eyes are strained in +the direction we were told the vessel was seen. No sign of one yet; but +as we enter on our second mile, our lookout cries for the first time: 'A +sail! dead ahead, sir!' After a five miles' run, we near the vessel +sufficiently to make out that she is the brig Perry, one of Uncle Sam's +swiftest sailing vessels, and so we quit chasing, and return to get our +letters and provisions ere the Massachusetts starts again. An hour from +our first meeting we are back, and find her heaving anchor to be off, +for she runs on time, and may not delay here; so haste away with the +boats, or we lose mails, provisions, and all. The boat returns well +laden with barrels of potatoes, quarter of beef, and chunks of ice, but +no mail. 'Letters and papers all sent on board the Iroquois,' says the +Massachusetts; so if we have any, there they are, but no word of any for +us is sent; so with hearts disappointed, but stomachs rejoicing in the +prospect of ice water and fresh meat, we settle down. + +Our tongues, under red-tape discipline, keep mum, but inwardly we +protest against this deprivation, brought about by the wild-goose chase +on which we were ordered. Well, to-morrow the State of Georgia is +expected down from Beaufort, and she will bring us a mail, we hope. The +morrow comes, and at daydawn she heaves in sight, just halting as she +nears the flagship, to report herself returned all right, and then down +toward us--with a mail, we trust. She is hardly ten ship's lengths away, +when she spies a sail to southward, notifies us, and we both make chase. +She is deeply laden, we but lightly, so we soon outstrip her, and +overtake the sail, which is a schooner, and looks suspicious, very. We +order her to 'heave to,' which order is wilfully or unwittingly +misunderstood. At any rate she does not slacken her speed, till she +finds our guns brought to bear, and we nearly running her down. Then she +stops: we send a boat with officers and men to board her and see if we +have really a prize, and all is excitement. One officer offers his share +for ten dollars--another for twenty--a third for a V, and one for fifty +cents; but would-be salesmen of their shares are far more numerous than +buyers. And soon the boat returns, reporting the vessel as bound for +Port Royal, with coffee, sugar, and sutlers' stores. Her papers are all +right, and she may go on without further hinderance. Now back to the +State of Georgia for our mails. 'Our mails! our mails!' is the hungry +cry of our almost home-sick hearts. As we get within hailing distance, +we sing out for our letters, and are answered: 'While you were chasing +the schooner, we left your mail on board the Iroquois.' 'The devil you +did!' say some in bitter disappointment, but red tape demands that we +wait till the flagship sees fit to signal us to come for letters. The +hours pass wearily. We have waited weeks for home news, and, now that it +is here, we must wait again--a day, two days--a week even, if it suits +the flagship's convenience. At last the signals float and read: 'Letters +for the ----; come and get them.' + +At last! The seals are broken and we read the news. One tells of a sick +mother, dying, and longing to see her son. Another is from M----'s lady +love: we know by the way he blushes, the fine hand and closely written +pages, and various other symptoms. And our fleet of ironclads are busy +at Charleston. Heaven help the cause they work for! Now we must hasten +with our answers, to have them ready for sending at a moment's notice, +when it is signalled: 'A vessel bound North, and will carry your mails, +if ready.' + +As the sun goes down, the horizon is lit up with bonfires stretching +along the coast for miles. 'These fires mean something,' we say +knowingly; 'depend upon it, the rebs expect some vessel in to-night.' +Nothing came of it, however, though the following afternoon we saw a +steamer with two smoke stacks come down the river and take a look, +perhaps to see as to her chances of getting out that night. The twilight +darkened into night, and night wore on into the small hours, and now we +gazed into the gloom anxiously, for at this time, if any, she would seek +to run out. With straining eyes and the most intense quiet, we listen +for the sound of paddle wheels. A stranger passing along our decks, +seeing in the darkness the shadowy forms of men crouched in listening +attitudes, would have fancied himself among a body of Indians watching +stealthily some savage prey. The night passes on; gray dawn tells of the +sun's approach, and soon his streaming splendor lights up sea and land. +We look to see if our hoped for prize still waits in the river, but +no--she is not there. The day wears on and still no signs of her. If she +has slipped by us, it is through the mouth and not the inlet, we feel +sure, but still are chagrined, and, doubting the possibility of ever +catching one, go to bed with the blues. + +The next day we brighten up a little, to be saddened the more, for the +Massachusetts on her return trip tells us that, so far from there being +good news from Charleston, we have only the worst to hear. The brave +little Keokuk is riddled with balls and sunk, and the fleet of ironclads +have retired from before the city. It is a costly experience, though it +may yet bear precious fruit, for they tell us it has revealed what was +necessary to make our next attack successful. What it is, we cannot +learn, the authorities meaning in the future, doubtless, to wait till +deeds have won them praise, before they make promises of great work. + +Night draws on again, and we move in toward shore. Signal lights are +burning, and huge bonfires, built behind the forests, that their glare +may not light up the water, but their reflection against the background +of the sky shows blockade runners the lay and bearings of the land. +Something will surely be done to-night, and we keep vigilant watch. Two +o'clock A. M., and a sound is heard, whether of paddle wheels, +surf on the beach, or blowing off of steam, we cannot tell. 'It's paddle +wheels,' says our ensign, and reports quickly to the captain. The first +lieutenant springs on deck, a steam whistle is heard, so faint that only +steam-taught ears know the sound, and word is passed to slip our chain +and anchor, and make chase in the direction of the sound. They spring to +the chain and work with a will to unshackle it quickly, but things are +not as they should be; the hammer is not at hand, and the pins not fixed +for speedy slipping out, even when struck a sharp, heavy blow. 'I think +I see a dark object off the direction of the sound we heard, sir,' says +some one. 'Confound the chain! will it never unshackle?' they exclaim, +as they seek to unloose it. At last it slips, we steam up, and are off +in pursuit, but which way shall we turn, and where shall we chase? There +is no guiding sound now, and we paddle cautiously on, spending the +balance of the night in this blind work, feeling for the prize which has +slipped from our fingers, for, as day dawns, we see a large steamer, +safe under the walls of the fort. If disappointments make philosophers, +we ought to rank with Diogenes. + +The next day is filled with growl and 'ifs' and 'ands,' and 'if _this_ +had been so and so,' and 'but for that neglect, which we shall know how +to avoid next time,' etc., etc. The afternoon of another day comes on, +and then a sail is descried, and off we go after it. Seven or eight +miles' run brings us close to it; still it pays no attention, but keeps +straight on. The captain orders a ball to be fired across her bows, +which explodes so near as to splash great jets of water over them. Her +crew and captain strike sail, and let go halliards, while they fly +behind masts, down cockpit, or wherever they can get for safety. Finding +no further harm is meant than to bring them to, they answer back our +hail--say they are going to Beaufort, quite a different direction from +the one they are heading--and seem generally confused. As an excuse they +say their compass is out of order, and as they appear to be wreckers, we +allow them to go on without further molestation, and steam back to our +moorings, consoling ourselves by the fact that these bootless chases are +using up coal, and thereby hastening the time of our going to Beaufort +to coal up, where we shall have a chance to step once more on _terra +firma_. + +Another night passes, and there are no indications of runners having +tried to escape us; but at sunrise we see, far to the south, a schooner, +and soon the flagship signals that a prize has been taken by one of our +fleet. It looks very much like the schooner we let go yesterday, and our +head officers swear, if it _is_ that schooner, never to let another go +so easily. One declares the vessel is loaded with cotton, and worth at +least $100,000, but that, notwithstanding, he will sell his share for +$500 in good gold. No one bids so high. Our ensign offers his for one +dollar, and the paymaster sells his to the surgeon for fifty cents, the +magnificence of which bargain the latter learns from the captain, who +says his share will be about seven and a half cents! We steam alongside, +and learn that our prize is the schooner St. George, bound for +Wilmington, via the Bermudas, with a cargo of salt, saltpetre, etc., and +worth perhaps four thousand dollars. We send our prize list on board the +flagship, and have a nice chat over the capture. It puts us in good +humor, and our vessels _chassée_ around each other till afternoon, when +we separate, to hear shortly that the schooner, on being searched, has +disclosed rich merchandise, gold, Whitworth guns, &c., hidden under her +nominal cargo of salt. So hurra again for our prize list! This _almost_ +makes up for the loss of the steamer. + +As we are on the point of letting go our anchor, the distant boom of +cannon is heard, and the flagship orders us to repair to the seat of +danger with all speed. We haste away, and as we go, hear a third gun +fired. It comes from the direction of the brig Perry, and we cut through +the water toward it, at a twelve-knot rate, for a good half hour, but +hearing no more firing, put in near the shore to watch for the rebel +vessel, as we think those guns were intended to put us on our guard. It +soon grows dark; lights are ordered out, and each man blinds his port. +No talking above a whisper must be heard; we are to be still as an +arctic night. Midnight passes, and lights still flicker along the shore. +It is so dark we cannot see the land, though not more than a mile from +it, and only know what it is by our compass and bearings, and the fires +which lighten up the clouds in spots right over them. One, two, and +three o'clock have passed; no sail or sound yet, and the night so dark +we cannot see a ship's length away. Half past three, and we begin to +heave anchor. The rattle of the chains is just enough to drown the sound +of paddle wheels should a steamer approach, and the sound of her own +wheels would in turn drown our noise; so if one does run in to land, it +may be over us, for any warning we should have of its whereabout. + +Suddenly the acting master jumps, looks for an instant across the bows +into the thick darkness, and bids a boy report to the captain and +lieutenant 'a vessel almost on us.' The man at the windlass is stopped, +unshackles the chain, and lets the anchor go with a buoy attached. +Captain and lieutenant come on deck, and order to blaze away with our +fifty-pound Parrott. Crash! through the still air rings the sharp +report, and the ball goes whizzing through the gloom, in the direction +the vessel was seen. The bright flash of the gun, and the thick cloud of +smoke make the darkness tenfold more impenetrable. For half an hour, we +chase in every direction, then fire again toward the shore. It is just +four; a gray light is working up through the mist, and we catch the +faintest glimpse of the Daylight, one of our fleet. A few minutes later, +and we see a speck near the shore, which the spyglass shows to be the +steamer we chased and fired after in the night. The surf beats about +her; in her frantic efforts to escape, she in the darkness has been run +ashore by our close pursuit. We steam up, to get within range and +destroy, if we cannot take her, when the Daylight, now discovering her, +opens fire. Once, twice, three times she has banged away a broadside at +the rebel sidewheel, and now the batteries on shore in turn open fire on +her. The sea fog hangs like a shroud over and between us and the land, +which looms up mysteriously, stretching its gray length along the +western horizon. Spots of fire bursting from the midst of it, tear +through the fog cloud right at us. It seems, in its vast, vague +undefinedness, rather an old-time dragon, with mouth spouting fire and +thunder, than harmless earth. The smoke of our own guns settles around +us; our ears ring with our own firing: the excitement of the moment is +intense. The jets of flame seem to spout right at one, and the +inclination to dodge becomes very strong. The Daylight has stopped +firing: what is the matter? The fog lifts slightly, and as the flagship +advances to join in the fight, we see that the Daylight is moving back +to reload and let her pass in, which she does, entering the circle of +the rebel fire, between us and them. She finds it out quickly, for their +guns are brought to bear on her, and the balls strike the water +frightfully near. She turns, but, as she leaves the fiery circle, +delivers, one after the other, a whole broadside of guns, followed by +the Penobscot, who too gives them a few iron pills. + +From six to eight A. M., the vessels gather in a cluster at +safe distance from the land, and the commanders of the different vessels +repair on board the flagship to consult what next shall be done. +Meanwhile the spyglass shows crowds of rebels along the shore, and great +efforts seem to be making to get the steamer off. Puffs of steam and +clouds of black smoke from her chimneys show that she is blowing off +steam, firing up, and pushing hard against the shore. Now her paddle +wheels are working; her stern is afloat. Again and again it is reported, +'She's getting herself off the beach; she'll soon be off!' but it does +not appear to hasten the powers that be, who apparently have decided +that, as it will not be high tide till nearly one P. M., she is +safely aground till then. + +Finally, after long delay, it is decided that all hands shall be piped +to breakfast, and we go in for a regular fight afterward. So the +boatswain blows his whistle, and each man goes to his mess. Breakfast is +leisurely gone through with, and then the drum beats all to quarters. +And now it looks like serious work. Men gather round their guns eager +for battle, and the surgeon stands ready, instruments before him, for +whatever may come. But hardly are they ready for the fight, when the +rebel steamer, with its traitor flag floating high in air, has +extricated itself from the beach, and is steaming down the coast as fast +as it can go. The golden opportunity is lost--was lost when the morning +hour was spent in unnecessary discussion, eating, and drinking. Still +they try to make up for lost time by rapid firing now, for she may be +taking in a precious and comforting cargo of arms and other stores of +war. The shots fall close about her, but a little short. Whitworth guns +protect her as she goes, for our steamers dare not venture too near +land, lest some long-range ball smash through their steam chests. The +batteries from which the rebels fired were mostly erected after the +steamer ran ashore, and seemed to consist principally of field pieces +and guns hastily drawn to the spot, with no earthworks to protect them. +This speedy work of theirs was in strong contrast to our slow motions. +With a spyglass we could see telegraph poles stretched along the shore. +The steamer had probably not been ashore one hour, when eight miles +south to the fort, and eight or ten miles north to Wilmington, the news +had spread of its arrival, and busy hands bestirred themselves, dragging +up guns and ammunition to cover their stranded prize. As soon as +sunlight lit up the beach, squads of men were seen pulling at ropes to +work the vessel off the sandy beach. While they were thus engaged, +breakfast was being quietly eaten on board our vessels! We kept up our +fire till the steamer got under the guns of the fort and out of our +reach, and then retired; and so ended our chase in nothing but noise and +smoke. + +We have given the reader a clue to a little of the inefficiency of the +Wilmington blockade. In our next paper, we shall endeavor to picture +some of the effects of naval life on character, and the strange +experiences one can have on shipboard, even in the monotony of life on a +blockader. + + + + +BUCKLE, DRAPER; CHURCH AND STATE. + +_FOURTH PAPER._ + + +In the first paper of this series, reference was made to the Principles +of _Unity_ and _Individuality_ as dominating over distinctive epochs of +the world's progress; and certain characteristics of each epoch were +pointed out which may be briefly recapitulated. Up to a period of time +which is commonly said to commence with the publication of Lord Bacon's +_Novum Organum_, the preponderating tendency in all the affairs of +Society--in Government, in Religion, in Thought, in Practical +Activities--was _convergent_ and toward Consolidation, Centralization, +Order, or, in one word, _Unity_; with a minor reference only to Freedom, +Independence, or Individuality. A change then took place, and the +Tendency to Unity began to yield, as the _major_ or _chief_ tendency in +society, to the opposite or divergent drift toward Disunity or +Individuality, which gradually came to be pre-eminently active. The +Spirit of Disintegration which thus arose, has exhibited and is still +exhibiting itself in Religious affairs, by the destruction of the +integrality of the Church, and its division into numerous sects; and in +the State, by the Democratic principle of popular rule, as opposed to +the Monarchical theory of the supremacy of one. + +We have now arrived, in the course of our development as a race, at the +culminating point of the second Stage of Progress--the Era of +_Individuality_. The predominant tendency of our time in things +Religious, Governmental, Intellectual, and Practical, is toward the +utter rejection of all clogs upon the personal freedom of Man or Woman. +This is seen by the neglect into which institutions of all kinds tend to +fall, and the disrespect in which they are held; in the movements for +the abolition of Slavery and Serfdom; in the recognition of the people's +right of rule, even in Monarchical countries; more radically in the +Woman's Rights Crusade, and in the absolute rejection, by the School of +Reformers known as Individualists, of all governmental authority other +than that voluntarily accepted, as an infringement of the individual's +inherent right of self-sovereignty. + +This Spirit of Individuality, this desire to throw off all trammels, and +to live in the atmosphere of one's own personality, exhibits itself in a +marked degree in the literature of our day. It is the animating spirit +of John Stuart Mill's work 'On Liberty'--a work which, as the writer has +elsewhere shown, was substantially borrowed, although without any openly +avowed acknowledgment of indebtedness, from an American publication. It +is this spirit which has inspired some of the most remarkable of Herbert +Spencer's Essays; and is distinctively apparent in the Fourth one of the +Propositions which Mr. Buckle affirms to be 'the basis of the history of +civilization;' and in the general tenor of Prof. Draper's _Intellectual +Development of Europe_. + +The gist of this doctrine of Individuality, as it is now largely +prevalent in respect to the institutions of the Church and the State, +and which is squarely affirmed in the proposition above mentioned, is +this: Men and Women do not wish nor do they need a Spiritual Society to +teach them what to believe, nor a Political Society to teach them what +to do. If they are simply left alone, they will thrive well enough. An +Ecclesiastical Organization is not only useless, but positively +injurious; it is a decided hinderance to the progress of humanity; and +the same is true of a Civil Organization, except in so far as it serves +the purpose of protection to person and property. + +It is intended to show in this article the erroneousness of this +doctrine; to point out that Religious and Political Institutions have, +in the past, been great aids to human advancement; that they are still +so; and will be in the future. In this manner we shall meet the +arguments of those who regard such institutions as having always been +unnecessary and a hinderance; and of those who, while considering them +as essential in the past, believe that they are now becoming obsolete, +are detrimental to the cause of human progress, and in the future to be +wholly dispensed with. + +Mankind in its entirety resembles a pyramid. At the base are the +ignorant and superstitious nations of the earth, comprising the great +majority of its inhabitants. A step higher includes the next greatest +number of nations, in which the people are less ignorant and less +degraded, but still very low as respects organization and culture. So, +as we rise in the scale of national development, the lines of inclusion +continually narrow, until we reach the apex, occupied by the most +advanced nation or nations. + +That which is true of nations is so of classes and of individuals +composing classes. Every community has its natural aristocracy, its +superior men and women. These constitute the top of the pyramid of +Society; and comprise those in whom intellectual powers, moral purposes, +and practical capacities are most highly developed and combined. Below +them comes the somewhat larger body of persons who are less endowed in +respect to the qualities just enumerated. Below these comes, in turn, +the still greater congregation who are still less gifted; and so on, the +number increasing as the range of general capacity decreases, until we +reach the layer which embodies the great mass of Society; who, though +measurably affectionate, well-intentioned, and docile, are ignorant, +superstitious, and simple minded, wanting in any large degree of high +moral purpose, and constantly prone to the development of the vicious +and depraved passions incident to this lower stratum of life. + +It is evident that to meet the needs of these widely different grades of +individuals, widely different manners, customs, and institutions are +indispensable. Culture, delicacy, and intelligence have their own +attractions, which are wholly diverse from those of crudeness, +coarseness, and simplicity. The surroundings which would bring happiness +to the lover of art or the man of large mental endowment, would render +miserable the peasant who still lacked the development to appreciate the +elegancies of refinement; while the tidy cottage and plain comforts +which might constitute the paradise of the humble and illiterate rustic, +would be utterly inadequate to the requirements of larger and more +highly organized natures. + +The Constitution and Structure of Society should be of such a nature, +therefore, for the purposes of human growth and happiness, as to allow +the needs and wants of every one of its members to be adequately +supplied. As yet there has been no such arrangement of our social +organization. In nations governed by Monarchical or Aristocratic rule, +the institutions of the country are made to satisfy the demands of the +privileged classes; with scarcely any reference to the wants of the +masses. In Democratic communities, the opposite method is adopted; and +the character of their public organizations and of their public +opinion--the latter always the most despotic of institutions--is +determined by the average notions of the middle class, which ordinarily +furnishes the bulk of the voters; with little consideration to the +desires of the higher or the necessities of the lower orders. + +The institutions of any people, civil or religious, are, therefore, +representative, in the main, of the state of development of the dominant +and controlling class in the community. In a Monarchical or Aristocratic +nation it is the upper portion of the body politic whose condition is +chiefly indicated. In this case, the manners, customs, laws, etc., of +the country are _in advance_ of the great body of the people, who have +yet to grow up to them. In Democratic states, the manners, customs, +laws, etc., conform to the stage of advancement which the majority of +the people have reached. They are thus _above_ the level of the lower +classes, who are not sufficiently developed to participate in their full +benefits; and _below_ the capacity of the superior ranks, who, though +fitted for the right use and enjoyment of more liberal and higher social +adaptations, are nevertheless obliged to cramp their natures and dwarf +their activities to the measure of the capacities of the more numerous +circle of citizens. + +Three classes have thus far been named as the _personnel_ of any +Society. There is, however, a body of individuals which, although made +up of persons from the three classes above indicated, constitute, in a +peculiar sense, a distinct order. This includes the Philosophers, Poets, +Scientists--the Thinkers of all kinds--who are in advance of the best +institutions of either Monarchical or Democratic countries; who see +farther into the future than even the great bulk of men of intelligence +and high development; who especially understand the transient nature and +inadequate provisions of existing societies, and feel the need of better +conditions for intellectual, social, and moral growth. + +It is from this body of men that the incentives to progress chiefly +spring. They behold the errors which encumber old systems--they are, +indeed, too apt to conceive them as _wholly_ composed of errors. To +them, the common and current beliefs appear to be simply superstitious. +It irks them that humanity should wallow in its ignorance and blindness. +They chafe and fret against the organizations which embody and foster +what they are firmly convinced is _all_ false. The Church is, in their +eyes, only a vast agglomeration of priests, some of them self-deceived +through ignorance; most of them not so, but deliberately bolstering up +an obsolete faith for place, profit, and power. The State, both as +existing in the past and now, is likewise, in their understanding, a +tremendous engine of tyranny, keeping the light of knowledge from the +masses; withholding liberty; and hindering the prosperity of mankind. + +That there is much truth in such opinions, too much by far, is not to be +denied. That Society needs regeneration in all departments of its +life--political, religious, industrial, and social--is plainly apparent. +But there is an essential omission in the kind of reform which is +spontaneously taking place at this time, and which is lauded by Mill, +Buckle, Spencer, Draper, and the advanced Thinkers of the day generally, +as the true direction in which change should be made; an omission which +will bring Society to disastrous revolution, even, it may be, to fatal +overthrow, unless supplied. + +The tendency of modern reform in reference to the institutions of Church +and State--and these, in the sense in which they are here used, include +all other institutions--is, as has been said, to do away with the former +altogether, and to restrict the latter to the sole functions of +protection of person and property. Reformatory ideas come, it has also +been said, from that small circle of men and women in Society, who are +in advance of the general development of the age even as represented in +the superior class--meaning by this, the class which, in the average +estimate, occupies the highest position; as, for instance, the +Aristocracy in England, and the Wealthy Families of America. + +Human Society, in all its Institutions, has been, thus far in the +history of the world, a thing of spontaneous, instinctual, or automatic +growth. There has never been and is not to-day, so far as is publicly +known, any _Science_ of Social Organization; any System of Laws or +Principles embodying the true mode of Social Construction. There has not +been, in other words, any discovery of the right Principles upon which +the affairs of mankind should be conducted in reference to their mutual +relationships; and hence, there is no real _knowledge_, but only +conjecture, of what are the right relations. _Might_ has always been the +accepted Right and the only Standard of Right in the regulation of +Society. The opinions of the Ruling Power give tone to human thought and +action. While Kings and Oligarchies were in the ascendency, the Standard +of Right--the King's or the Oligarchs' will--were based on his or their +ideas of right. Later, when the People secured the conduct of their own +affairs, the voice of the Majority became the voice of God, as expressed +in the popular motto: _Vox populi, vox Dei_. + +Having then no Standard of true Social Organization, it is natural, +though short sighted, that the reformatory party--perceiving the +insufficiencies and drawbacks of our present Societary Arrangements, +feeling that _they_ have no need of the Governmental and Religious +institutions of the day, that these are, indeed, rather hindrances than +aids to _their_ progress--should think that the people of the whole +world, of the civilized nations, or of one civilized nation, at least, +were in like state of preparation, and that those Institutions could be +safely and advantageously dispensed with. There could scarcely be a +greater mistake. There are but comparatively few individuals in the +world who are so highly developed in their intellectual and moral +capacities, and in practical ability also, as to be competent to be a +law unto themselves in the general conduct of life. The great mass of +mankind, even in the most advanced communities, need still the guiding +hand of a wisely constituted and really paternal Government, and the +religious admonitions of a true priesthood. The greatest danger with +which Society is threatened in modern times, arises from the lack of +these essential concomitants of any high civilization. The degradation, +squalor, ignorance, and brutality of the lowest classes; the +irreverence, disrespect, dishonesty, and moral blindness of the middle +orders; and the apathy, heartlessness, unscrupulousness, selfishness, +cupidity, and irreligion of the upper stratum of Society, are alike due +to the absence of a rightly organized State, which should command the +allegiance, and of a rightly constituted Church, which should absorb the +devotion, of the whole community. + +The Constitution of Society must be moulded with reference to the +character of the individuals in it. Of these, some are sagacious, +executive, intelligent, benevolent, sympathetic, philanthropic, +self-reliant; possessed of all the qualities, in fine, which inspire +respect and confidence in their fellow men, and cause them to be +recognized as leaders. Others are timid, ignorant, feeble-minded, +credulous, prone to lean upon others, hero worshippers; people whose +natural bent it is to follow some one in whom they put faith. The +sentiment of loyalty is inherent in the human breast, and will find an +object whereon to fasten. At one time it is an Alexander; then a +Washington, a Napoleon, or a Wellington; at another, a Clay, a Webster, +or a Grant. There are ranks and orders in Society as there are ranks and +orders among individuals. And as the inherent rank of an _individual_ +is, as a general rule, recognized and accorded, no matter what may be +the social constitution of the land in which he lives, so it is with +_classes_. Theoretically, all individuals and orders are equal in the +United States. But the Law of Nature is stronger than the laws of man; +and the men and women of superior endowment in moral power, intellectual +force, or practical ability, receive the voluntary homage of those who +feel themselves to be inferior. + +In considering the nature of the Institutions which Society needs, we +have simply to consider by what mode we may best provide for the normal +tendencies which ever have been and ever will be active in man. It is +not in our power to change these tendencies, nor to prevent their play. +But we may so order our social polity as to _assist_ their natural +drift, or to _obstruct_ it. In the one case, the affairs of the +community are conducted with harmony, and with the least possible +friction. In the other, they are discordant, and are forced to reach +their proximately proper adjustment through antagonism and struggle. It +is the difference between the ship which flies swiftly to her destined +port with favoring winds, fair skies, and peaceful seas, and one which +struggles wearily to her harbor through adverse gales and stormy waves, +battered, broken, and tempest tossed. The great mass of the people have +always looked to the more highly developed of their race for practical +guidance in the secular concerns of life, and for spiritual guidance in +religious things. That they have done so, and that the Church and the +State have been large factors in the sum of human progress, we shall +presently see. We shall also see brought out more distinctly and clearly +the fact, that the dominant classes in Society, whether the form of +Government be a Monarchy, an Oligarchy, or a Democracy, are, in the +main, and except, perhaps, in transitional epochs, the classes who +possess, in reality, superior capacities of the quality the age most +requires in its leaders. + +In the earliest ages of the world, when brute force was regarded as the +highest attribute of greatness, the men of might, the renowned warriors, +the Nimrods and the Agamemnons, occupied the highest pinnacle of +Society, and received homage from their fellows as supreme men. Of their +age they were the supreme men. To our enlightened epoch, the fighting +heroes of the past are but brutal bullies a little above the level of +the animals whose powers and habits they so sedulously emulated. But if +we plant ourselves in thought back in that savage era, if we reflect +that its habits and instincts were almost wholly physical, that the +chief controlling powers of the time were the arm of might and +superstition, and if we ponder a moment upon the force of will, the +dauntless courage, the inexorable rigor, the terrible energy, the +ceaseless activity, and the gigantic personal strength which must have +combined in a single man to have enabled him to rule so turbulent and so +animal a people; we shall be apt to understand that the only being who +could, in that age, stand first among his fellows, must have been the +superior brute of all. + +If we consider still further the ferocious natures of the men of that +time, we shall perceive the necessity which existed for a strong +Government, regulating all the affairs of Society, and administered by +the most severe and savage chieftain; one who could hold all others in +subjection by the terror of his might, preserve a semblance at least of +order in the community, and protect his subjects from outside wrong. + +But what could hold _him_ in subjection--an irresponsible despot, +without human sympathy, without any awakened sense of moral +responsibility, capricious, self-willed, ambitious, lustful, vindictive, +without self-control, and possessing absolute power over the lives and +property of his subjects? Nothing but the dread of an offended God or +gods. And, as a consolidated despotism, wielded by brute force, was the +best form of Government possible in this age; so a worship based chiefly +upon the incitements and terrors of retributive law--the holding out of +inducements of reward for the good, and of determents of direful +punishment for the wicked, in a future world--was the best religion for +which the time was prepared. + +Tracing the history of the world down to later times, we shall find the +same state of things in society at large, until a period which it is +difficult to fix, but which, we may say, did not fairly begin until the +beginning or the middle of the eighteenth century. Down to that time, +physical force was the dominant element among the nations. The great +warriors were still the prominent men upon the stage of action, though +many of the brutal characteristics of the earlier ages had disappeared. +The people were still ignorant, credulous, childlike, and looked to the +Feudal Aristocracy for direction and support--an Aristocracy founded on +superiority of warlike talent; thus fitly representing the leading +spirit of the age, and the proper guardians of the people in this +warlike time. The Catholic Church, and, at a later period, the +Protestant sects, held the upper classes from oppressing the lower, and +taught the latter to respect and defer to the former. The Feudal Lords +were thus the Social providence and protection of the poor and weak, +thinking and acting for them in things beyond their range of capacity; +while these, in turn, performed the agricultural and other labors to +which they were competent. Each class occupied its appropriate position +and fulfilled its legitimate calling. The superior orders held the +superior situations; and were recognized for what they really were, +leaders and guides. The masses of the community were faithful and +obedient as followers. The Church inspired each with a feeling of +devotion to duty, protected the subject and controlled the ruler. In its +function of a Governmental arrangement, the Feudal System was admirably +adapted to the necessities of the time. In its religious capacity, the +Catholic Church was the bulwark of Social order during the Middle Ages. + +About the period of time mentioned above, the warlike spirit which had +theretofore pervaded the world and controlled its destinies, began to +yield before the enlightenment of civilization. Commercial, industrial, +and intellectual pursuits commenced to assume the leading position among +the interests of Society. At the same time physical force and hereditary +blood began to give way, as tokens of superior character, to +intellectual greatness and executive commercial ability. The struggle +which then commenced between the Aristocracy of Birth and the +Aristocracy of Genius in all its forms, mental or practical, is still +pending in the Old World. In America it has declared itself in favor of +the latter. The only Noblemen here recognized are those of Nature's +make--those who bear in their organizations and culture the stamp of +superiority. These are, in the main, quickly recognized and +acknowledged; whether they exhibit their genius in the field of +Literature, Science, Invention, Government, Religion, Art--or in the +thousand Commercial and Industrial Enterprises which are characteristic +of this era, and especially of this country. + +With the breaking up of the Feudal System and the advent of modern +commercial activities, a great change took place in the organization of +Society. Under this system a community was, as has been indicated, made +up in such a manner that the whole body formed, so to speak, one family, +having mutual interests; each individual performing those functions--for +the benefit of the whole--for which he was, as a general rule, best +fitted. The most warlike, sagacious, executive--those, in short, who +were best capacitated for leaders and protectors, being at the head, and +looking after the welfare of the whole; while others occupied such +stations and rendered such services as their qualifications made them +adequate to, in subordination to these leaders. Thus the interests of +community were linked immediately together. They formed a grand +Coöperative Association, in which each member recognized his obligations +to the whole body of associates, and to every individual associate, _and +measurably fulfilled those obligations as they were understood at that +day_. The poor were not left to fall into starvation and misery for the +want of work; there were no paupers; and the rich and powerful classes +did not neglect the affairs of the indigent and weak as those who had no +claim upon them. On the contrary, they felt that mankind were the +children of one Father, and their brethren. They felt that their +superior powers devolved upon them accompanying responsibilities; that +because they were comparatively far seeing and strong, they were bound +by all the nobler sentiments of manhood to watch over and guide the +short sighted and the feeble. Under the inspiration of the Catholic +Church--a Church whose persistent efforts were ever devoted in a marked +degree to the amelioration of the physical no less than the spiritual +conditions of humanity, a Church which strove in the darkest hours of +its history and always to stand between the helpless and suffering and +their oppressors--they accepted this office and fulfilled its functions. +To the beat of their understanding--with the light they then had, +considering the times in which they lived, and the state of the world's +progress--they executed well and faithfully the duties which pertained +to it. Far better, indeed, as we shall presently see, than the opulent +and powerful perform the same duties in our day. + +With the commencement of more peaceful times and the gradual +civilization of Society, the necessity of personal protection which had, +in great measure, given rise to the Feudal System, passed away. Civil +law acquired the protective power which had formerly resided in the arm +of physical force. Travel became safe. The accumulations of industry +were less liable to be wrenched from their legitimate owner by the hand +of the robber. There was a rapid opening up of intelligence among the +masses. Individual energy was stimulated. Commerce received a wonderful +impetus. The bounds of personal freedom were enlarged. Men felt no +longer the necessity of association for the sake of safety. They felt, +moreover, the restless surging of new-born powers within them; and +longed to give them exercise. So the old forms of community life were +slowly broken up. Individuals embarked in various enterprises; now no +longer consociated with others in mutual coöperation, but for their +individual benefit. Thus _competitive_ industry gradually supplanted the +old method of _coöperative_ or _associated_ industry, as seen in its +crude and imperfect form, and the inauguration of the false and selfish +system which still prevails began. + +There could be but one result to a mode of commercial and industrial +traffic and a system of labor and wages which pits the various classes +of Society together in a strife for the wealth of the world, the +fundamental principle of which strife is, _that it is perfectly right to +take advantage of the necessities of our neighbors in order to obtain +their means for our own enrichment_. + +For this was the principle which instinctively sprang up in the world as +the basis of business, and which has never been changed. Traffic +originated in the necessities of life, and was extended by the desire to +obtain wealth. Each individual perceived some want in his neighbor, and +forthwith proceeded to supply this want, _charging just as much for the +thing supplied as the desire for the article or his need of it would +force the person supplied to pay; without reference to the equitable +price, estimated with respect to the labor bestowed in supplying the +want_. This principle of trade, originating in the most complete +selfishness, and, viewed from any high moral point, both unjust and +dishonest, has always been and is to-day the fundamental principle of +our Political Economy. That 'a thing is worth what it will bring,' is a +basic axiom of all trade. The only price which is recognized in commerce +is the market price; which is, again, what a commodity will bring. What +a commodity will bring is what the necessities of mankind will make them +pay. Thus is exhibited the curious spectacle of the existence of a +Religion which inculcates good will and love to our neighbor as the +foundation of all true civilization and virtue, coexisting side by side +with a Commercial System, a relic, like slavery, of ancient barbarism, +which forces all men to traffic with each other on the principle that +our neighbor is an object of legitimate prey. + +Of course, in a System of Competitive Industry thus carried on, the +wealth of the world would fall into the hands of those of superior +powers; while the feeble, the stolid, and the ignorant would be left +poor and helpless. And, as the different classes of the community would +be no longer directly associated with each other in their labors and +interests, but would be, on the contrary, competitors--and as the fact +that there had been free competition would be held by all classes to +absolve them from any responsibility as to each other's welfare--it +would inevitably result that the weaker orders should fall into +indigence, degradation, wretchedness, starvation, and premature death. + +Such has been the case. With the advent of Competitive Industry in +Europe and America--to confine ourselves to these countries--with the +disintegration of the Social System in which the different classes were +associated in mutually dependent and coöperative efforts; with the +abrogation, on the part of the superior body of citizens, of all +responsibility for, and direct interest in, the affairs and comfort of +the lower orders, has come Pauperism, Social Instability, and a degree +of misery and depravity among the poorest of the masses, never before +known in the history of the world, all things being taken into +consideration. It is a well-known saying of Political Economists, that +the rich are daily growing richer, and the poor poorer. It might be +added with truth: and more degraded and dangerous. + +The effects of this method of Competitive Industry upon the higher +classes have been scarcely less injurious, though in a different +direction. It has bred an intense selfishness and an apathy in respect +to the sufferings of others which no lover of his race can contemplate +without emotions of anguish. Not only is the idea of any effort for the +permanent relief of the poorer classes, for taking them under special +care and making their welfare the business of Society, not entertained +by any large number of persons; but those who do feel keenly the +necessity of such a step, and whose sympathies are aroused by the +sufferings of the masses around them, are too deeply imbued with the +ease-loving spirit of the age, too much wedded to their own comfort, to +take any active measures for the realization of their desires, or to +forego their momentary interests to secure them. + +The rich heap up riches by the iniquitous trade-system which drifts the +earnings of the laborers into their net, and are dead to the call of +those whom they are, unconsciously in most cases, defrauding. Nay! they +even struggle to wring from them the largest possible amount of work for +the smallest possible pay! Day by day they grow more exacting as they +grow wealthier; day by day the laboring orders sink into more harassing +and hopeless conditions. Had the functions of Government in our own +country and in England been those only of protection to persons and +property; had not the general and local authorities in some degree +assisted the oppressed toilers; had not the Church by her admonitions +and pleadings kept some sparks of feeling alive in the breast of the +people of this money-getting age, and stimulated somewhat their +benevolence, the laboring classes of England and America would long +since have sunk to utter destitution. Nor would this have been all. For +when the mass of the people reach such a point; when they are driven to +despair, as they are now fast being driven, and would long ago have been +driven but for the circumstances stated, then comes the terrible +reaction, the frightful revolution, the upheaval of all order, anarchy, +and--who shall tell what else? The Riot of July is still ringing its +solemn warning--all unheeded--in the ears of this people. Society has +yet and speedily to lift the masses out of their ignorance, poverty, +squalor, and accompanying brutality, or to sink awfully beneath their +maddened retaliation. + +In thus criticizing the Industrial Polity of modern times as, in the +respects indicated, inferior to that of the Feudal System, the writer +does not wish to be understood as affirming any more than is really +said. The idea which it is desired to express is this: that the plan +upon which this system was founded--the mutual interdependence of +classes and their reciprocally coöperative labor--was far superior to +the method of Competitive Industry now in vogue; and the true type--when +rightly carried out, without the drawbacks and the evils of the Feudal +System--of Social organization. That there are compensations in our +modern mode, and that, on the whole, Society advances in adopting it, is +true. But it will take a further step in advance when it reverts to that +plan on the footing above indicated; when it adopts the _plan_ without +the evils which in an ignorant and undeveloped age necessarily +accompanied it. + +It has not been forgotten that the Church has arrayed itself, to no +small extent, against the advent of new knowledge; that the State has +suppressed the enlarging tendencies of individual liberty; and that both +have been, in this way and in other ways, as Mr. Buckle and Professor +Draper have clearly shown, clogs upon the hurrying wheels of the +nations. It is precisely because they _have_ been and _are_ still so, +that they served and do serve the cause of progress. + +It has been previously stated that new truths come from the body of +advanced Thinkers, who constitute a fourth and comparatively small class +in the community. The discoverer of a new truth sees the immense +advantages which would accrue to Society from a knowledge of it, and is +eager for its immediate promulgation and acceptance; and, if it be of a +practical nature, for its incorporation into the working principles of +the Social polity. This may be true. But there is another verity of +equal importance, which ordinarily he does not take into consideration, +namely: that the great mass of the people who form Society are not +prepared for the change which he contemplates. They comprehend and act +more slowly than the Thinkers. The novelty must be brought home to their +understandings gradually, and assimilated. Old forms of thought, old +associations, encrusted prejudices, the deep-seated opinions of years +must be modified before the new will find a lodgment in their +convictions. + +It is well that the Thinker should urge with impetuous and ardent zeal +his side of the case; that he should insist upon the immediate +adjustment of thought or activity in accordance with advanced right. It +is true that he will not instantly succeed. It is equally true that, +with human nature and Society as they now are, he would destroy all +order if he did. Men can live only in that portion of truth which they +are competent to appreciate. Place the Indian in the heated city, and +make him conform to the usages of city life, he pines and dies. If it +were possible to take away from the ignorant and child-minded races of +the earth or portions of community their superstitious faith, and +substitute the higher truths of a more spiritual interpretation, yet +would they not subserve their religious purposes. So, when the new +verity is held up to view, to the great mass who cannot understand it, +it is no truth, but a lie. They oppose it. Thus the discovery becomes +known. Discussion excites new thought. The Thinkers array themselves +upon one side, urging forward; the State and the Church, representing +the body of Society, take the other, standing sturdily still, or +hesitating, doubting either the validity of the alleged truth or its +uses. Between the clash of contending opinions the new ideas take shape +in the awakened minds which are prepared for them. These come shortly to +be the majority. The State and the Church gradually and imperceptibly +modify their methods or their creeds; and so, safely and without +disaster, humanity takes a step in advance. + +It would be better, indeed, if this slow process were not necessary. +When the whole scope of Fundamental Truths is apprehended; when a +Science of the Universe is known; when truth is no longer fragmentary; +and when there is mutual confidence and coöperation among the different +classes of community, it will not be necessary. But until then, any +attempt to force an instantaneous acceptance of new truths or an +immediate inauguration of new methods upon the mass of the people will +only serve, if successful, to overthrow order in Society, and introduce +Social anarchy in its stead. From such an attempt came the chaos of the +French Revolution;--from an endeavor to inaugurate ideas essentially +correct among a people noway ready to comprehend them rightly. The +Conservative Element is as essential to the well-being of society as the +Progressive. To eliminate either is to destroy its balanced action; and +to give it over to stagnation on the one hand, or to frenzy on the +other. The Thinkers of the past have done, and those of the present are +doing, good work for humanity, on the Progressive side. The Church and +the State of the past have done, the Church and the State of the present +are doing, good work for humanity, on the Conservative side. Through the +instrumentality of the Thinkers, the Church, and the State, the world +has been brought slowly, steadily, and safely along the path of +progress, now gaining in one way, and now in another; at times +abandoning one line of advance, only to go ahead upon a different one; +yet always moving onward, and standing to-day, in spite of its seeming +retrogressions, at the highest point of development which it has ever +touched. + +The Church and the State of the future will be the subject of subsequent +consideration. + + + + +LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. + +For months that followed the triumph the rebels had boasted they wrought, +But which lost to them Chattanooga, thus bringing their triumph to nought; +The mountain-walled citadel city, with its outposts in billowy crowds, +Grand soarers among the lightnings, stern conquerors of the clouds! +For months, I say, had the rebels, with the eyes of their cannon, looked + down +From the high-crested forehead of Lookout, from the Mission's long sinuous + crown +Till GRANT, our invincible hero, the winner of every fight! +Who joys in the strife, like the eagle that drinks from the storm delight! +Marshalled his war-worn legions, and, pointing to them the foe, +Kindled their hearts with the tidings that now should be stricken the blow, +The rebel to sweep from old Lookout, that cloud-post dizzily high, +Whence the taunt of his cannon and banner had affronted so long the sky. + +Brave THOMAS the foeman had brushed from his summit the nearest, and now +The balm of the midnight's quiet soothed Nature's agonized brow: +A midnight of murkiest darkness, and Lookout's dark undefined mass +Heaved grandly a frown on the welkin, a barricade nothing might pass. +Its breast was sprinkled with sparkles, its crest was dotted in gold, +Telling the camps of the rebels secure as they deemed in their hold. +Where glimmered the creek of the Lookout, it seemed the black dome of the + night +Had dropped all its stars in the valley, it glittered so over with light: +There were voices and clashings of weapons, and drum beat and bugle and + tramp, +Quick flittings athwart the broad watchfires that spotted the grays of the + camp: +Dark columns would glimmer and vanish, a rider flit by like a ghost; +There was movement all over the valley, the movement and din of a host. + +'Twas the legion so famed of the 'White Star,' and led on by GEARY the + brave, +That was chosen to gather the laurel or find on the mountain a grave. +They crossed the dim creek of the Lookout, and toiled up the sable ascent, +Till the atoms black crawling and struggling in the dense upper darkness + were blent. +Mists, fitful in rain, came at daydawn, they spread in one mantle the + skies, +And we that were posted below stood and watched with our hearts in our + eyes; +We watched as the mists broke and joined, the quick flits and the blanks of + the fray; +There was thunder, but not of the clouds; there was lightning, but redder + in ray; +Oh, warm rose our hopes to the 'White Star,' oh, wild went our pleadings + to heaven; +We knew, and we shuddered to know it, how fierce oft the rebels had + striven; +We saw, and we shuddered to see it, the rebel flag still in the air; +Shall our boys be hurled back? God of Battles! oh, bring not such bitter + despair! + +But the battle is rolling still up, it has plunged in the mantle o'erhead, +We hear the low hum of the volley, we see the fierce bomb-burst of red; +Still the rock in the forehead of Lookout through the rents of the windy + mist shows +The horrible flag of the Crossbar, the counterfeit rag of our foes: +Portentous it looks through the vapor, then melts to the eye, but it tells +That the rebels still cling to their stronghold, and hope for the moment + dispels. +But the roll of the thunder seems louder, flame angrier smites on the eye, +The scene from the fog is laid open--a battle field fought in the sky! +Eye to eye, hand to hand, all are struggling;--ha, traitors! ha, rebels, + ye know +Now the might in the arm of our heroes! dare ye bide their roused terrible + blow? +They drive them, our braves drive the rebels! they flee, and our heroes + pursue! +We scale rock and trunk--from their breastworks they run! oh, the joy of + the view! + +Hurrah, how they drive them! hurrah, how they drive the fierce rebels + along! +One more cheer, still another! each lip seems as ready to burst into song. +On, on, ye bold blue-coated heroes! thrust, strike, pour your shots in + amain! +Banners fly, columns rush, seen and lost in the quick, fitful gauzes of + rain. +Oh, boys, how your young blood is streaming! but falter not, drive them + to rout! +From barricade, breastwork, and riflepit, how the scourged rebels pour out! +We see the swift plunge of the caisson within the dim background of haze, +With the shreds of platoons inward scudding, and fainter their batteries + blaze; +As the mist curtain falls all is blank; as it lifts, a wild picture out + glares, +A wild shifting picture of battle, and dread our warm hopefulness shares; +But never the braves of the 'White Star' have sullied their fame in defeat, +And they will not to-day see the triumph pass by them the foeman to greet! + +No, no, for the battle is ending; the ranks on the slope of the crest +Are the true Union blue, and our banners alone catch the gleams of the + west, +Though the Crossbar still flies from the summit, we roll out our cheering + of pride! +Not in vain, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! have ye died! +One brief struggle more sees the banner, that blot on the sky, brushed + away, +When the broad moon now basking upon us shall yield her rich lustre to-day: +She brings out the black hulk of Lookout, its outlines traced sharp in + the skies, +All alive with the camps of our braves glancing down with their numberless + eyes. +See, the darkness below the red dottings is twinkling with many a spark! +Sergeant Teague thinks them souls of the rebels red fleeing from ours in + the dark; +But the light shocks of sound tell the tale, they are battle's fierce + fireworks at play! +It is slaughter's wild carnival revel bequeathed to the night by the day. + +Dawn breaks, the sky clears--ha! the shape upon Lookout's tall crest that + we see, +Is the bright beaming flag of the 'White Star,' the beautiful Flag of the + Free! +How it waves its rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open + eye, +With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors + to vie! +'Hurrah!' rolls from Moccasin Point, and 'Hurrah!' from bold Cameron's + Hill! +'Hurrah!' peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill! + +Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during Time +Shall stand this, your column of glory, shall shine this, your triumph + sublime! +To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climbed, drove him to + bay, +Then fought the fierce foe till he turned and fled, bleeding and gnashing, + away! +Fled away from the scene where so late broke his growls and he shot down + his glare, +As he paced to and fro, for the hunter his wild craggy cavern to dare! + +Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! ye girded your souls to the fight, +Drew the sword, dropped the scabbard, and went in the full conscious + strength of your might! +Now climbing o'er rock and o'er tree mound, up, up, by the hemlock ye + swung! +Now plunging through thicket and swamp, on the edge of the hollow ye hung! +One hand grasped the musket, the other clutched ladder of root and of + bough: +The trunk the tornado had shivered, the landmark pale glimmering now, +And now the mad torrent's white lightning;--no drum tapped, no bugle + was blown-- +To the words that encouraged each other, and quick breaths, ye toiled up + alone! +Oh, long as the mountains shall rise o'er the waters of bright Tennessee, +Shall be told the proud deeds of the 'White Star,' the cloud-treading host + of the free! +The camp-fire shall blaze to the chorus, the picket-post peal it on high, +How was fought the fierce battle of Lookout--how won THE GRAND FIGHT OF + THE SKY! + + + + +ONE NIGHT. + + +I. + +From the window at which I write, in these November days, I see a muddy, +swollen river, spread over the meadows into a dingy lake; it is not a +picturesque or a pretty stream, in spite of its Indian name. Beyond it +the land slopes away into a range of long, low hills, which the autumn +has browned; the long swaths of fog stretching between river and hill +are so like to them and to the dissolving gray sky that they all blend +in one general gloom. This picture filling my eye narrows and shapes +itself into the beginning of my story: I see a lazy, dirty river on the +outskirts of a manufacturing city; where the stream has broadened into a +sort of pond it is cut short by the dam, and there is a little cluster +of mills. They all belong to one work, however, and they look as if they +had been set down there for a few months only; 'contract' seems written +all over them, and very properly, for they are running on a Government +order for small arms. There is no noise but an underhum of revolving +shafts and the smothered thud of trip hammers. Ore dust blackens +everything, and is scattered everywhere, so that the whole ground is a +patchwork of black and gray; elsewhere there is snow, but here the snow +is turned to the dingy color of the place. It is very quiet outside, +being early morning yet; a cold mist hides the dawn, and the water falls +with a winter hiss; the paths are indistinct, for the sky is only just +enough lightening to show the east. + +The coal dust around one door shows that the fires are there; a +cavernous place, suddenly letting a lurid glow out upon the night, and +then black again. It is only a narrow alley through the building, making +sure of a good draft; on one side are the piles of coal, and on the +other a row of furnace doors. The stoker is sitting on a heap of +cinder. He is only an old man, a little stooping, with a head that is +turning ashes color; his eye is faded, and his face nearly +expressionless, while he sits perfectly still on the heap, as if he were +a part of the engine which turns slowly in a shed adjoining and pants +through its vent in the roof. He has been sitting there so long that he +has a vague notion that his mind has somehow gone out of him into the +iron doors and the rough coal, and he only goes round and round like the +engine. Yet he never considered the matter at all, any more than the +engine wanted to use its own wheel, which it turned month after month in +the same place, to propel itself through the world; just so often he +opened and shut each door in its turn, fed the fires, and then sat down +and sat still. + +He was looking at a boy of six, asleep at his feet on a pile of ashes +and cinder, which was not so bad a bed, for the gentle heat left in it +was as good as a lullaby, and Shakspeare long ago told us that sleep has +a preference for sitting by hard pillows. The child was an odd bit of +humanity. An accident at an early age had given it a hump, though +otherwise it was fair enough; and now perhaps society would have seen +there only an animal watching its sleeping cub. Presently the boy woke +and got on his feet, and began to walk toward the cold air with short, +uncertain steps, almost falling against a furnace door. The old man +jumped and caught him. + +'Ta, ta, Nobby,' he said, 'what's thou doin'? Them's hotter nor cender. +Burnt child dreads fire--did knowst 'twas fire?' + +He had a sort of language of his own, and his voice was singularly +harsh, as if breathing in that grimy place so long had roughened his +throat. + +'There, go, Nobby, look thee out an' see howst black she is. Ta, but +it's hawt,' and he rubbed his forehead with his sleeve; 'it's a deal +pity this hot can nawt go out where's cold, an' people needin' it. +Here's hot, there's cold, but 'twill stay here, as it loved the place +'twas born--home, like. Why, Net, that thee?' + +There was no door to the place to knock at or open, but the craunch of a +foot was heard on the coal outside, and a girl came in, moist and +shivering. The stoker set her down in a warm corner, and looked at her +now. + +'Is thee, my little Net?' he repeated. + +'Yes, and I've brought your breakfast, father; 'twas striking six before +I come in.' + +'Too early, my girl, sleep her sleep out. Here's hot an' cosey like, an' +time goes, an' I could wait for breakfast, till I'm home. I'll nawt let +my little girl's sleep.' + +'No, father, I couldn't sleep after five, anyway; and I thought I must +bring your breakfast to-day. You'll walk back through the cold easier +after something hot to eat.' + +'That's my dear little girl. Shiverin' yet, she is. There, lay down on +this,' raking out a heap of fresh ashes, 'them warm an' soft like, an' +go ye to sleep till I go.' + +'No, I must heat your coffee,' she answered, steadying the pot before +one of the furnaces with bits of coal. + +''Ware that door doan' fly back an' hurt ye; them does so sometimes.' + +'Yes, I'll be careful. Why, you've got Whitney here!' + +'He come down to-night, Net. By himself, somehow, though I doan' knaw +how Lord kep' his short feet from the river bank an' the floom. An' he +couldn't go back, nor I couldn't go with him. He's slep' on the cender, +nice; all's a cradle to Nobby.' + +'Yes, cinder's a good bed, when the eyes are shut,' said the girl, +bitterly. 'The coffee was smoking hot when I started, but it's cold out +this morning, so there's all this to be done over.' + +'Yes, outdoors has cooled it. The world was hungry, like, an' wanted to +eat it. Small nubbin' for all the world, but it stole the hot an' the +smell o' the meat.' + +The girl did not reply to this bit of pleasantry. She was about +eighteen, and her face would have been strikingly pretty except for the +eager, hungering look of the eye; but in every motion, every look, and +even the way in which she wore her neat and simple clothing, there was +the word 'unsatisfied.' + +Finally, she brought coffee and meat to him. + +'Here, Net, take ye a sip,' said he; ''twill warm ye nice. Shiverin' yet +she is; 'deed the mornin's clammy cold; there's naw love in thet. Drink! +I cawnt take ye home so, an' my time's most up; it's gettin' light.' + +But she refused it, and sat and watched him as he ate, never taking her +eyes from his face. + +'Father,' she presently said, 'what do you do here?' + +The old stoker laughed: 'Do, my girl? Why, keep up the fires. It's like +I'm a spoke in a wheel or summut. I keeps the fires, an' the fires makes +the angeen go, an' thet turns the works thet makes the pistols, so't +folks may kill theirsel's. There's naw peace anywheres in the world.' + +'I didn't mean that; but what do you do the rest of the time? Don't you +think? Aren't you tired of this place, father?' + +'Sometimes it's like I think so; but how's the use, my Net? Here's +rough, an' here's rough too,' touching his chest. 'On smooth floors, +such as I couldn't work, if we could get there. How's the use o' bein' +tired? We've got to keep steady at summut. It's best to be content, like +Nobby there; cender's as good a bed as the king's got.' + +'Well, if you _were_ tired, you're going to rest now, so I wish you +were.' + +'What's that mean?' + +'You've got through here, that's all,' cried the girl, with a smothered +sob. + +He set down his pot of coffee and his pail: 'Who told ye so?' he +demanded. + +'Margery Eames.' + +Catching the girl's hand, the old man half dragged her through the +opening into a yard devoted to coal storage. Picking their way through +the spotted mire, they entered a shed where trip hammers were pounding +in showers of sparks, stepped over a great revolving shaft, and came to +a stairway; up, up, to the fifth floor, where the finishing rooms were. + +Faint daylight was straggling through the narrow windows, and most of +the lamps were out, those that were burning being very sickly, as if +they did it under protest. A number of women were employed here, because +much of the work was merely automatic, and just now men were scarce and +women would work cheaper. The women were coarse and rough, rather the +scum of the city--perhaps some might have fallen; but the place was +noisome and grimy, with a sickening smell of oil everywhere, repulsive +enough to be fit for any workers. + +The stoker and his daughter walked to the farther end, and came to where +a little group of women were sitting round a bench; one of the group +tipped a wink to the rest. + +'How's coal an' fires now, Adam?' she said. + +'Did ye tell my girl anythin'?' he demanded. + +'Of course I did.' + +'What was't then?' + +'Well,' said she, wiping her greasy hands on the bosom of her dress, 'I +watched on the road for her this morning, an' I told her.' + +'_What?_' + +'I told her she needn't try to put on airs, she was only a stoker's +daughter, an' he'll not have that place any more.' + +'Did ye knaw she didn't knaw't?' + +'Yes. What do you care, old dusty? She's got a good place.' + +'Yes, she has, Lord's good for't.' + +'Shall we fight it out, Adam? Hold on till I wipe my hands.' + +'Nawt till one can fight by hersel', Margery. I forgive yer spite, an' +hope Lord woan' bring it back to ye ever. What's said can nawt be +helped. Come, Net.' + +'You're a mean creature, Margery, to tell him that,' said one, after +they were gone. 'I expected to hear you tell him about the place his +girl's got. Lord! he's innocent as a baby about it, an' thinks she's on +the way up, while everybody else knows it, an' knows it's the way down.' + +''Tis that,' said Margery, 'but I've that much decency that I didn't say +it. Let the old man take one thing at a time; he'll know it soon enough +when she fetches up at the bottom.' + +'What did you want to trouble old Adam for?' + +'Because I did!' cried the woman, with a sudden flash; 'because I like +to hurt people. _I've_ been struck, an' stabbed, an' bruised, an' +seared, an' people pointin' fingers at me, whose heart wasn't fouler'n +theirs, if my lips were. It's all cut an' slash in the world, an' the +only way to get on with pain when you're hit, is to hit somebody else. +I'd rather find a soft spot in somebody than have a dollar give me, +sure's my name's Margery. What business has he to have any feelin's, +workin' year after year down there in the coal? Why haven't people been +good to _me_? I never come up here into this grease; people sent me; an' +when hit's the game I'll do my part. I hope his girl's a comfort to him; +he'll be proud enough of her some time, you see.' + +Adam seated his girl again, opened the doors one after another, and +raked and fed the fires; then he shut them, and stood his rake in the +corner, and seated himself. + +'Well, it's come out,' he said; 'but I didn't mean ye should know, yet. +Margery's ill willed, but it's like she didn't think.' + +'I oughtn't to have told you till after to-morrow, father.' + +'There's how't seems hard, thet it must come to Christmas. An' when I've +been here so long, twenty year noo, Net.' + +'Oh, don't call me that any more, father; I don't like it.' + +'Why nawt, little girl? What should I call her? You used to love to hear +it.' + +'Not now, not now,' said the girl, in a choking voice, 'not to-day, not +till Christmas is over. Call me Jane.' + +'Yes, twenty year ago I come here, an' I've been settin' on them piles +o' cender ever sence. 'Deed I most love them doors an' the rake an' +poker. I've hed my frets about it sometimes, but I doan' want to go +though.' + +'And I say it's a shame in them to use you so!' cried the girl. 'Making +their money hand over hand, and to go and grudge you this ash hole, for +the sake of saving! They'll get no good from such reckoning. I wish +their cruel old mill would burn down!' + +'No, Jane, hold hersel'! Here's fire--should _I_ do it?' + +'It's Cowles's work. I hate him.' + +'The mill's their own, Jane; they gev me what they liked; I've no claim. +Mr. Cowles do as he think best for t'mill.' + +'Then to do it just now! I hope _his_ dinner'll be sweet.' + +'I nawt meant my girl to knaw't till Christmas wor done. But ye'll nawt +mind it, Jane, ye'll nawt! We'll nawt lose Christmas, too, for it come +for us. Mr. Cowles doan' own _thet_. We'll hev thet anyhow, an' keep it. +She'll nawt fret hersel', my little girl!' + +Jane did not answer. + +'We'll get on somehoo, Lord knaws hoo. We never starved yet, an' you've +got a good place. It'll all be right, an' Christmas day to-morrow!' + +'I got a good place! Oh, father!' + +'Why, Jane, I thought so. Doan' they use her well?' + +'Yes, they do,' quickly answered the girl; 'I don't know why I spoke +so. I'm a bit discontented, perhaps, but don't you fear for me, father; +and we mustn't fret--anyway, till after to-morrow.' + +'She's nawt content, is she?' said the stoker, settling his head into +his hands. 'I've hed my frets, too, alone here, thinkin' summut like I +should liked to knaw books, an' been defferent, but it's like I'd nawt +been content. Lord knows. 'Deed I loves them doors an' the old place +here, but seems as if summut was sayin' there's better things; it's like +there is, but nawt for such as me. I doan' care for mysel', but I'd like +to hev more to gev my little girl.' + +'You give me all you've got, father, and I ought to be satisfied. But +I'm not--it's not your blame, father, but I know I'm not,' she said, +with sudden energy. 'I don't know what I want; it's something--it seems +as if I was hungry.' + +'Nawt hungry, Jane! She's nawt starvin'!' + +'No, I don't want any more to eat, nor better clothes,' she said, +getting out the words painfully. 'It's something else; I can't tell what +it is, unless I'm hungry.' + +'Well, I knaw I doan' understan' her,' said the man sadly. 'I doan' knaw +my little girl. Is it _him_ she's thinkin' of?' + +The fire-glow on the girl's face hid any change that may have come +there, and she only drew a little farther away, without answering. + +'I've nawt seen many people, Jane, but sometimes I likes an' dislikes, +as Nobby does, an' I doan' like _him_. An' I doan' like him to be nigh +my girl; there's naw truth in him. I wish she'd say she'll hev naw more +speech with him.' + +'No, no, father, don't ask me that. I don't care for him, but I can't +promise not to speak to him--I do! I do! Oh, father!' sobbed the girl, +'everything comes at once!' + +The old man drew her head on his knee, and even his rough voice grew +softer, talking to his 'little girl.' He bent and kissed her. + +'I wish 'twere nawt so,' he said; 'but mebbe I'm wrong. Lord keep my +little girl, an' we'll nawt fret, but be happy to-morrow.' + +Another man came in with a big tread. It was the engineer, a hale, burly +fellow, with a genuine, rollicking kindness. He tossed the boy into the +air, pinched Jane's cheek, and gave his morning salutation in several +lusty thumps on the stoker's back. + +'Rippin' day this'll be, Adam,' said he; 'say t'won't, an' I'll shake +your ribs loose. Just such a day's I like to breathe in; an' when I've +set all night in my chair there, not sleepin' of course, but seein' that +everlastin' old crosshead go in an' out, an' that wheel turnin' away +just so fast an' no faster, I swear I do go to sleep with my eyes open; +an' when it gets light such a day's this, I get up an' shake +myself--this fashion,' giving him an extra jerk. 'Keep up heart, Adam; I +know it, an' I don't know what Cowles is thinkin' of. I don't want to +crowd you out, an' you ought to be the last one to go. I'd quit 'em for +it myself, afford it or not, only 'twon't do you no good.' + +'Merry Christmas, Mr. Grump!' cried Nobby, rubbing his eyes. + +'You've slept over, my young 'un,' laughed the engineer; 'you're one day +ahead. Of course the palty mill must run to-morrow. Mine don't, I +warrant. My machinery runs on a fat turkey, twenty pound if he's an +ounce. That's me.' + +'Yes, and we've got a turkey too,' chimed Nobby. + +'I warrant you have. An' he had as good an appetite when he was alive as +anybody else's turkey; them fellows do gobble their grub quite +conscientiously, fattin' 'emselves without knowin' or carin' whether +rich or poor'll eat 'em. _I'll_ bet yours's as fat an' good's Mr. +Prescott's, or old Cowles's--damn him! No, I don't mean quite that, so +near Christmas, but he ought to be choked with his own dinner, I'll say +that. Keep up good heart, Adam; an' now clear out, every one! cut home +to yer breakfasts! My watch now, and' I won't have one of ye +round--scud! or wait a minute an' I'll pitch ye out.' + + +II. + +After his breakfast, Adam walked back to the factory. He was wondering, +as he went along, why they should begin with him if they wanted to save +expense. Eighteen dollars a month was a good deal to him, but what was +it to the mill? Every turn of the water wheel, he thought, made more +money than his day's wages. But possibly Mr. Prescott had found out that +his son fancied Jane, and meant to drive them out of town. The very day +that Mr. Prescott saw him first, Mr. Cowles, the manager, told him he +wasn't needed any longer, that the under engineer would see to the +fires. That was punishing him for another's fault--just the way with +rich men; and for a while he almost hated Mr. Prescott. + +Adam Craig had had a peculiar life, as he thought. He wanted education, +money, and such other things, besides something to eat and wear; but +they never came to him, and he drifted into a place at the machine +shops, and got the stamp put on him, and then went his round year after +year with less and less thought of stepping out of it. Yet he always +believed he once had some uncommon stuff in him, and he claimed his own +respect for having had it, even if he had lost it now; he had his own +way of proving it too. His wife was the mirror by which he judged +himself. She was a German woman, whom he found in the city hospital; or +rather she found him, shot through the throat by the accidental +discharge of a rifle. She was just from the fatherland, and could not +speak a word of English; with his swollen head he could not speak at +all; but she watched him through it, and by the signs of that language +which is common to all nations, they managed to understand each other, +and signalized the day of his recovery by marrying. This was the pride +of Adam's whole life, and convinced him he was made capable of being +somebody; he held his wife to be a superior woman, and her appreciation +was a consolation that never left him. 'She knawed me,' he used to say, +'she saw into me better nor I did.' And though he would talk stoutly +sometimes for democracy, he had an odd notion that marrying a +Continental European gave him some sort of distinction; and all his +troubled talks with himself ended in his saying: 'Ah, well, if I'd been +born in Germany, I might been somebody.' + +Adam watched for Mr. Cowles most of the forenoon, determined to ask +about his dismissal; at last the manager strolled through the shops, and +Adam made a desperate effort, and went to him. He turned short about, as +the stoker spoke. + +'Mr. Cowles, was ye told to send me away?' + +'Told! Who should tell me?' + +'But I thought--I thought Mr. Prescott might said summut--' + +'Do you suppose he concerns himself about you? I'm master here, and I +don't ask what I shall do.' + +Adam took hope: 'Hev ye said sure I must go, Mr. Cowles? I've been here +so long, an' noo I'm old. I've got gray at t'mill,' touching his head as +he spoke. + +'You've had your wages regular, haven't you?' said Cowles, roughly. 'I +don't inquire how long you've been here. Would I keep an old lathe that +was worn or that I had no use for, because I'd had it a good while? Stay +round to-day, if you like, and then go.' + +'But eighteen dollars is nawt much to t'mill,' said Adam, humbly; 'doan' +be hard, an' gev me a chance, a chance to help mysel'! T'winter's hard, +an' I've a family!' + +'Did I make your family? You should have thought of that long ago. Stand +out of the way, if you're done.' + +The stoker clung to the doorpost. + +'Summut else I could do--there must be summut--ye knaw summut else, Mr. +Cowles?' + +'Something else to do, you fool! What could you do--run the engine? tend +the planers? If I wanted you at all, I should keep you where you were.' + +He moved off at this. Adam seated himself on the familiar cinder heaps +and grieved in his simple way, for a time feeling almost bitter. + +Little Nobby's deformity was one of the strange things that made Adam +think. Several years before, he had the child with him at the factory +one night, just old enough to walk a little. In Adam's momentary absence +the boy managed to get upon a box near one of the furnace doors, and, +rolling against the blistering iron, was horribly burned; yet +unaccountably he did not die, but grew bent into a scarred, shapeless +body, though his face was a sweet, childish one, innocent of fire. +Nobby, as Adam called him after that, was a silent preacher to the +stoker. When a clergyman asked him once if he was a Christian, he +pointed to Nobby's back: + +'I knaw there's a Lord,' he said,' or else Nobby'd died, burnt so sore +thet way; an' I knaw He's good, or Nobby'd been a fool a'terward, like +children thet burn theirsel's. Saved Nobby from dyin' an' from bein' +worse nor dead, both, Lord meant him good.' + +The boy was Adam Craig's grandson. His firstborn, Tom, was wild, and +went to sea--the old story--leaving wife and unborn child for his father +to look to. Six years had gone--the seventh began at New Year's; the boy +was born, burnt, saved alive, and not idiotic; its mother had died; +Adam's life was outrunning the child's, and he would soon have to leave +it to go on by itself; but his faith in his son's return never shook. + +'Him'll come back,' he would say, simply, and in perfect confidence, 'I +knaw't well. Lord never burnt Nobby for nawt. Him's nawt dead; him'll +come back some time, I knaw.' + + +III. + +Adam went back at noon, and found something else to take his thoughts: +Nobby was in his pains--a sad remnant of his terrible mishap. These were +irregular, and he had been free for several months, but he had been +exposed to the cold to-day. There was little to be done. At such times +Adam could only cry over him, hold him in his arms while he was twisting +his crooked body so that it would hardly stay in or upon anything, and +say: + +'Poor, poor Nobby. Him'll nawt die, Katry; but how can he live? Lord +send back Tom!' + +Jane was busy somewhere, and did not come home till evening. Her father +had been turned out of his place; Nobby was in his pains again, after +they had been hoping he wouldn't have any more; and to-morrow was +Christmas! As she said, everything came at once. Things seemed to swim +before her eyes--Nobby's pain was the most real of all--and as she could +not help him, she wanted to get out of sight. It was all true. Aching +and longing intolerably for something more than she had known, she had +met Will Prescott--and he had loved her--he said so; and he had promised +her books and pictures, and chances for travel and study. + +She went into the best room, already trimmed for to-morrow; the +Christmas tree was clustered with gifts and with candles ready for +lighting, and the motto was on the top, '_Gott zur hülfe_.' Jane looked +it all over, and her lip quivered. + +'This is pure and honest, as it says,' said she; 'and _I'm_ a lie +myself, cheating father. Christmas to-morrow! 'twon't last long; if +_he_ only knew I go to--I won't say the word--would he ever care about +me again?' + +She went into the other room for her shawl. + +'Hes my little girl got to go out to-night?' said Adam. 'Well, there's +to-morrow. Doan' stay late, Net,' kissing her good-by. + +She pulled the hood over her face and went out, taking the road to the +city, never slackening her pace till the lights along the way grew +thicker, and she came upon the pavements. Crossing the great +thoroughfare, she turned into a narrow street, and from that descended a +short flight of steps into a narrower one lit only by a great lamp in +front of a door, with the word '_Tanzhaus_' above it; she went in here +unhesitatingly. A large room with a bar on one side, small tables in the +middle, and a stage at the farther end; some tables had occupants, +drinking and looking at several women dancing on the stage. This was +Jane's 'place;' the dance house wanted her face at its tables, and as +there was nothing else open, in very desperation she went. She turned +into a smaller room where the private tables were, to which she +belonged; at first they had tried to teach her to dance, but she would +not learn. The furniture was worn, with a slimy polish in spots; an +unclean, stifling smell in the air; a few coarse prints of racers and +champions hung around; and in one place a drunken artist had sketched +one night a Crucifixion on the wall; the owner was angry enough, but +something held back his hand from touching it, and it staid there, +covered by an old newspaper. + +As Jane laid away her shawl and hood, a woman came forward to meet her. + +'What are you here for?' she said, fiercely; 'this is Christmas eve! +there's none for me--I wish I could cry, but my tears are dried up,' +snatching her tawdry cap from her head and stamping on it; 'but you're +not a devil yet. Go home, if you've got a home! out the back +way--quick!' + +The woman caught her shoulder, pulled away the paper, and pointed to the +picture on the wall. + +'Look at _that_! When I see that, I think sometimes I'm in hell! What +has that got to do with me? Do you want to get out of the reach of that? +Go home, go home,' shaking her furiously. + +'I can't! I can't!' cried Jane, desperately. 'He won't let me. 'Twas +here or the street, I thought; I've been here three weeks, and +to-night's no more'n other nights.' + +A voice called in the front room, and the woman put on her cap and ran +in; Jane stood where she left her. She hardly knew what moved her +to-night; she saw her own body walking about, tense and foreign, as +though some possession had it; she had felt a new, strange kind of +strength all day, after she had her cry out. She looked up at the +picture again, saying slowly to herself: + +'It's for _them_--I've got father, and mother, and sister, and +brethren.' + +Nine o'clock struck, and people began to come in; there was likely to be +a rush to-night, and the players in the front room commenced their +liveliest round of operatic airs. One after another turned into the side +room, and the calls for service grew lively. Jane moved among them +mechanically, thinking all the while of Nobby tossing in his pain; of +the tree waiting for to-morrow; of her father turned out of his place; +of the rent and the grocer's bill that were about due; and of her own +wages, pretty much all that was left. Was it such a terrible sin to be +there--for _them_? Then she shivered to think she might be sliding down. +No, no, she would be kept--they should be taken care of, but she +wouldn't fall while she had them to think of. A hot flush colored her +face as she thought of young Prescott, confusing her so that she almost +stumbled. What would _he_ think if he knew where she worked? No matter, +he shouldn't know it. He would take her out of this by and by, and after +that she would tell him all about it, and what she did it for, and he +would love her all the better for it. + +The hours struck and went by, and the room grew hotter and noisier. Once +the tables were emptied; but a fresh party came in, and their leader +waved them to seats with maudlin politeness. He was a handsome young +man, partly drunk already; he pushed the woman he had with him into a +chair, and dropped into another himself. His back was toward Jane; she +stood still a minute, then walked slowly, as if something dragged her, +till she could see his face. + +The glass she held fell from her hand with a crash, but she stood dumb +and white, and clung trembling to the table. He started, but gave her a +nod. + +'_You_, Will Prescott! Oh, my God!' + +'You here, Jane! And you're one of 'em too! I didn't think it quite so +soon.' + +She did not seem to hear the last words. The blood surged back to her +face, and she sank at his feet. + +'No, no,' she moaned, 'I'm not, I'm not--I'm only here. You won't think +worse of me, Will, seeing I did it for _them_? I must work somewhere, +and this was all I could find. Say you don't think _that_! Say you +believe me!' + +He smiled in a drunken way, without speaking. + +'Say it, Will! Say you love me, and take me out of this!' + +'Ho, ho! that's a devilish good one! You're here, and so'm I; I'm just a +little merry to-night--couldn't wait till to-morrow. We're well met, +Jane--these are my friends; here's my most par-ticular friend,' laying +his hand on his companion's shoulder. + +The girl seemed to be stunned so that she did not understand. + +'See it, hey? 'Say you love me!' You do it beautifully, Jane--do some +more. Did you ever think I loved you?--Oh, yes! and that I wanted to +marry you--of course! If your face hadn't looked prettier'n it does now, +damn me if I'd ever looked twice at it!' + +He turned his chair a little. + +'What's that!' he screamed, catching sight of the painting on the wall. +'Take it away! You put it there, you wretch!' staring at it with his +eyes fixed. + +The noise brought the owner to the door--a burly Dutchman. + +'Landlord, put that thing away--cover it up! Damnation! Do I want to +come here to be preached at?' + +'Who pulled that paper off, I say?' said the man. 'I pinned _The +Clipper_ over it. You did it, I swar! Be off with yer!' + +'Oh, let her stay, Lumpsey,' said a woman that came in from the bar; +'she'll be one on 'em when she gits round.' + +'I won't; I won't have nobody here that's better'n we be no longer. +Here's yer pay; an' now, missis, start yerself, an' don't yer come nigh +here agen 'thout yer'll behave decent an' be one on us.' + +He tossed some bank notes toward her, took her by the shoulders, and +shoved her out, shutting the door upon her. + + +IV. + +Everybody had gone out on Christmas eve--darting about in sleighs; at +service in the churches; at a party given in their set; shopping, as if +their lives depended on it. Buying, selling, visiting, looking, the city +was all astir. In the churches, soberly gay with evergreen trimming, +like a young widow very stylish in black, but very proper withal, people +were listening to the anthems, and everything about the place was wide +awake, unless it was the chimes taking a nap until twelve o'clock; +drygoods men ran to and fro, dropping smiles, and winding themselves up +in a great medley reel of silks, laces, and things of _virtu_ in +general; next door, the booksellers were resplendent in dazzling +bindings, pictures and photographs of everything and everybody, all of +which were at everybody's disposal--take 'em all home, if you pleased; +livery stables were as bare as if there had been an invasion of the +country that day, and smiling keepers touched their pockets, and shook +their heads pityingly at late comers; and even in the markets jolly +butchers laughed, and sawed, and cut, and counted their money--and those +leathery fellows that were never jolly, suddenly found out a new +commercial maxim, that jollity is the best policy, and they fell to +laughing too. 'Christmas is coming!' thought everybody. 'Christmas is +coming!' and some of the lively small bells in the towers, not grown yet +to years of ripe discretion, whispered to each other, and had to bite +their tongues to keep from shouting it right out. + +The dance house and the narrow alley left behind, Jane was in the street +too; she went with the crowd, pulling her hood so as to hide her face. +She glanced at the costly goods that lay in confusion on the counters of +the stores, and smiled bitterly, taking hold of her own cheap dress; the +sleighs almost ran over her, they shot back and forth so wildly, to her +whirling brain; a German air that a band was playing on a serenade +somewhere in the distance seemed to roar in her ears like thunder. She +stopped before a confectioner's. The hot smell of meats came up through +the grating where she stood; the window was ablaze with gas, piled high +with pyramids of glittering frost, which rose out of a heaped profusion +of carved lobster and turkey, and fruits and candies; she saw girls with +pretty faces and nice dresses waiting on the fashionable crowd inside, +and said to herself that she ought to be there. Some one touched her. It +was a girl younger than herself, who stood glaring at the window, +shivering in her ragged clothing; her eyes looked unnaturally large out +of her sharp, pinched face, daubed with tears and dirt. + +'Look a' thar!' she cried eagerly, catching Jane's arm, 'see _them_! Why +ben't them mine? Why ben't I in thar, a buyin' o' them? I ort to ride, +ortn't I? Why ben't I got nice things on, like a' them thar? Pinchin' +Dave's got my dress for three shillin' to-night--the last un I been a +savin'; must ha' some drink, so't I'd be forgettin'--to-night, to-night, +ye see, I say--hoh!' + +Giving a wild laugh, the girl ran off. A man inside was looking angrily +through the window; so Jane turned from the thoroughfare, and finally +struck into the road by which she came. The street lamps had given way +to the moon. The flats adjoining the city were all white except marshy +spots; passing two tall buildings, that made a sort of gateway, the +country spread to the sky unbroken, except where rows of dreary houses, +shadowy without the twinkle of a light, stood on some new land; this was +not the fashionable road, and it was empty. How pure and cool it was! In +the city, there was straggling moonlight, darkened by the brick walls, +but no moon; out here, the moon had just broken from a bank of cloud low +down, piled on a bank of snow, all looking snowy and alike, the horizon +line being hardly distinguishable; the light poured from the edge in a +shining flood, and rippled without a sound over the crisp, crusted +snow--all of one kin, cold, sparkling, desolate. + +Jane noted nothing of this; she walked dizzily along the road. Only one +day since morning, after living a whole lifetime in that! She scooped up +a handful of snow, and rubbed it furiously into her face and eyes, they +burned so; her eyes were dry, melting the snow without feeling wet any. +Clear back in the morning, Margery Eames met her; then the day dragged +along as if it never would go, and she ate nothing but the tears she +swallowed; going down those steps, through that dreadful door, waiting +on those tables--the evening, till Will Prescott came in. She had wanted +so to have what others had, to study, to paint--such things as she had +seen, and she couldn't make a stroke! to learn to sing, as she had heard +them sing in the churches; to see Germany, that her mother had told her +about; she wanted to be loved--not like father and Nobby, but another +way too; she had a right to have such things--other people had them. +_He_ had praised her, stroked her hair; said she was too pale, but no +matter, she'd brighten up by and by; she was his little bluebell he had +found in the woods, that he was going to make over into a red rose; she +should have everything she wanted, and go with him everywhere, pretty +soon--only be patient; if he could wait, couldn't she? And she had been +patient, without telling father about it, though somehow he found out; +she had waited in the road an hour more than once for a kind word and a +smile as he rode by; she had borne with her hard fare, and waited for +him to do the things he promised; and after she had to go into the dance +house, she hated it most for his sake--she hated him to kiss her, for +fear he'd find some taint on her lips of the place she went to; she +thought of him all the while, to keep up courage; of course it was for +father and Nobby she did it, but he helped her. It was all over now. + +She came to the bridge over the river, and stopped on it. Just then she +happened to think of a choral her mother liked to sing: 'A mighty +fortress is our God.' A fortress--not hers. Did He sometimes turn +against people and crowd them--who crowded the girl at the +confectioner's window? Was there any God at all? Not in the city; only +two sorts of people were there, who either lived in fine houses, and had +no souls at all, or else went about the streets, and had lost them. Was +there any God out here? If there was, He wouldn't have let Mr. Cowles +turn her father off, and she wouldn't be out in the cold; there wasn't +any anywhere. + +Jane looked down at the water. It was muddy, but it gave a wavering +reflection as the wind ruffled it; now and then a piece of driftwood +glided from under the bridge, and was borne along toward the factory +dam. Her mind flashed round to the factory, and home, and the Christmas +tree for to-morrow, and she laughed bitterly. Jump! She had lost _him_, +all that had been keeping her up so long--he never meant to marry her, +though he said so, and she believed him. Everything went with that love; +what was there left? What matter what came now? Jump! But father and +Nobby? She couldn't leave them unprovided for. Money, money! she must +have money, for _them_. + +The bells began to chime very softly, as they always did at twelve +o'clock of this night in the year. They seemed to say: 'Come! come! +come!' She caught at the sound. There was money in the city, and one way +yet to earn it. + +'They're calling me!' she cried, clutching her dress wildly with both +hands; 'they're pushing me into hell--why shouldn't I go? _They'll_ have +money, and I'm gone already.' + +She turned, and walked back without faltering, to the edge of the city, +and stopped between the two buildings. There was an alley close by, like +one she knew so well; by the noise there was revel in it. She hesitated +a minute, crouching out of sight in the shadow of the buildings. + +'Don't stop here!' she muttered to herself; 'now as well as any other +time!' and turned into the alley. The light was streaming from a door +near the middle, and a man in sailor's dress came out and caught a +glimpse of her creeping along close to the wall. + +'Hey, lass!' he said, 'merry Christmas to ye! 'Rived in port to-day. +Been a cruisin'. Locker full, an' all hands piped ashore. What craft be +you--a Dutch galley? Sail down a bit, till I get within speakin' +distance.' + +She only staggered closer against the wall. + +'Beatin' off, hey? Well, lass, come an' drink to better acquaintance.' + +'It's the first time, but I'll go--I'll go with you,' she answered. She +followed him to the door. The gas flared full on his face, and she gave +a mortal scream. + +'Brother Tom!' + +He made a headlong clutch at her, but she broke away, leaving a fragment +of her dress in his hand, and flew round the corner out of his sight. + +She ran blindly through several streets, but finally she regained the +road, and never stopped her headlong speed till she leaned against the +door of Adam Craig's cottage. She pushed the door open softly, and went +in. Quick as she had been, her brother was there already, standing by +Nobby's bed; Adam Craig was there, but his back was turned. + +'Did you--tell him?' she whispered. + +Her brother nodded, and put out his hand. She took it, with a half +hesitation. + +'He understands,' he whispered, answering the question of her eyes. + +The old stoker turned around. She made a move to shrink away, but he +caught her, and drew her to his breast, crying and sobbing: + +'Lord, Lord, Lord's good!' he cried, 'thank Him for't! She's saved, my +little girl! I've found more'n I've lost, to-day. Oh, she's pure yet, +she's saved--she's nawt lost, my girl, she's nawt! I didn't knaw't! +didn't knaw what she was doin', but it's all right noo! We'll never want +any more, but if Net'd been lost--but she's nawt, nawt--she's nawt gone, +she's here, an' harm never'll come nigh her any more! I knowed Tom'd +come back, an' now Net! they both hev saved each other, Lord's good +for't!' + +'But Nobby?' she whispered. + +'Lord brought us one, an' noo He's goin' to take back t'other,' said +Adam. + +The child was twisting in his father's arms in the height of his pain. + +'I knaw noo why 'twas I went away thet mornin', an' Nobby got t'bump,' +said Adam, looking on sadly. + +The young sailor made no answer. The partial drunkenness of his first +night on shore was gone, and he only held his suffering child, wiping +the drops from its face. So they stood watching, and the hours went on. + +'Zuhöret!' cried Adam's wife. 'Die Weihnachtsglocken!' + +It was the bells, ringing out the full morning carol. The child was +lying on his bed; he brightened up a little, then shut his eyes wearily, +and stopped writhing. For little Nobby it that moment became true that + + 'Christ was born on Christmas day.' + + + + +APHORISM.--NO. VII. + + +The sufficient reason why the common developments of intellect are so +poor, is not so much in the want of native capacity, as in the low moral +estate of our nature. Our hearts are so dry, our better affections so +dull, that we are not the subjects of stimulus adequate to the calling +forth of efforts suitable to the necessities of the case. Here and +there, one is so richly endowed in mind, that his love of science or art +may suffice to tax his powers to the full: but a world could never be +constituted of such geniuses. The mass of men, if ever to be led up to +any high plane of mental life, must be so under the promptings of +affections and passions which find their excitement in the more +practical spheres of our existence. + + + + +JAMES FENIMORE COOPER ON SECESSION AND STATE RIGHTS. + + +In the earlier numbers of _The Spirit of the Fair_, the newspaper +published by a committee of gentlemen for the benefit of the New York +Metropolitan Fair, appeared a series of very remarkable papers from the +pen of James Fenimore Cooper, the American novelist.[7] The history of +these papers is very curious, as announced by the editors of _The Spirit +of the Fair_, in their introductory, as follows: + + 'UNPUBLISHED MSS. OF JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. + + 'Our national novelist died in the autumn of 1850; previous to his + fatal illness he was engaged upon a historical work, to be entitled + 'The Men of Manhattan,' only the Introduction to which had been + sent to the press. The printing office was destroyed by fire, and + with it the opening chapters of this work; fortunately a few pages + had been set up, and the impression sent to a literary gentleman, + then editor of a popular critical journal, and were thus saved from + destruction. To him we are indebted for the posthumous articles of + Cooper, wherewith, by a coincidence as remarkable as it is + auspicious, we now enrich our columns with a contribution from the + American pioneer in letters.' + +Many readers at the time passed over these papers without the careful +attention which they deserved. Others, who perused them more thoroughly, +were struck with the remarkable prescience which the great writer's +thoughts exhibited on topics which the events now passing before us lend +a tremendous interest. Cooper, it must be remembered, uttered his views +on 'Secession,' 'State Rights,' etc., upward of _fifteen years ago_, and +at a period when the horrors of rebellion, as a consequence of slavery, +were little foreseen as likely to succeed those years of peace and +prosperity. Had these opinions been published at the period intended by +their writer, they would doubtless have been pronounced visionary and +illogical. By a singular succession of events, however, the MS. has been +hidden in the chrysalis of years, until, lo! it sees the light of day at +a period when the prophetic words of their author come up, as it were, +from his grave, with the vindication of truth and historic fidelity. + +For the benefit of those who have not read these papers in the newspaper +where they originally appeared, we make the following extracts, feeling +assured that no man interested in passing events, or in the causes which +led to them, can fail to recognize in these passages the astonishing +power and comprehensiveness of the mind that fifteen years ago discussed +these vital topics. Let it be remembered, too, that their author was a +man whose sympathies were largely with his countrymen, not less of the +South than of the North, and that it was doubtless with a view of +warning his Southern friends of the danger which hovered over the +'institution' of slavery, that they were written. Probably had they +appeared in print at that time, they would have produced no effect where +mostly effect was aimed at; but now that they have appeared, when the +small cloud of evil pointed out has spread over the Southern land and +broken into a deluge of devastation, they will at least prove that the +words of warning were not perishable utterances signifying nothing. + + +'SECESSION. + +'The first popular error that we shall venture to assail, is that +connected with the prevalent notion of the sovereignty of the States. We +do not believe that the several States of this Union are, in any +legitimate meaning of the term, sovereign at all. We are fully aware +that this will be regarded as a bold, and possibly as a presuming +proposition, but we shall endeavor to work it out with such means as we +may have at command. + +'We lay down the following premises as too indisputable to need any +arguments to sustain them: viz., the authority which formed the present +Constitution of the United States had the legal power to do so. That +authority was in the Government of the States, respectively, and not in +their people in the popular signification, but through their people in +the political meaning of the term, and what was then done must be +regarded as acts connected with the composition and nature of +governments, and of no minor or different interests of human affairs. + +'It being admitted, that the power which formed the Government was +legitimate, we obtain one of the purest compacts for the organization of +human society that probably ever existed. The ancient allegiance, under +which the colonies had grown up to importance, had been extinguished by +solemn treaty, and the States met in Convention sustained by all the law +they had, and backed in every instance by institutions that were more or +less popular. The history of the world cannot, probably, furnish another +instance of the settlement of the fundamental contract of a great nation +under circumstances of so much obvious justice. This gives unusual +solemnity and authority to the Constitution of 1787, and invests it with +additional claims to our admiration and respect. + +'The authority which formed the Constitution admitted, we come next to +the examination of its acts. It is apparent from the debates and +proceedings of the Convention, that two opinions existed in that body; +the one leaning strongly toward the concentration of power in the hands +of the Federal Government, and the other desirous of leaving as much as +possible with the respective States. The principle that the powers which +are not directly conceded to the Union should remain in first hands, +would seem never to have been denied; and some years after the +organization of the Government, it was solemnly recognized in an +amendment. We are not disposed, however, to look for arguments in the +debates and discussions of the Convention, in our view often a deceptive +and dangerous method of construing a law, since the vote is very +frequently given on even conflicting reasons. Different minds arrive at +the same results by different processes; and it is no unusual thing for +men to deny each other's premises, while they accept their conclusions. +We shall look, therefore, solely to the compact itself, as the most +certain mode of ascertaining what was done. + +'No one will deny that all the great powers of sovereignty are directly +conceded to the Union. The right to make war and peace, to coin money, +maintain armies and navies, etc., etc., in themselves overshadow most of +the sovereignty of the States. The amendatory clause would seem to +annihilate it. By the provisions of that clause three fourths of the +States can take away all the powers and rights now resting in the hands +of the respective States, with a single exception. This exception gives +breadth and emphasis to the efficiency of the clause. It will be +remembered that all this can be done within the present Constitution. +It is a part of the original bargain. Thus, New York can legally be +deprived of the authority to punish for theft, to lay out highways, to +incorporate banks, and all the ordinary interests over which she at +present exercises control, every human being within her limits +dissenting. Now as sovereignty means power in the last resort, this +amendatory clause most clearly deprives the State of all sovereign power +thus put at the disposition of Conventions of the several States; in +fact, the votes of these Conventions, or that of the respective +Legislatures acting in the same capacity, is nothing but the highest +species of legislation known to the country; and no other mode of +altering the institutions would be legal. It follows unavoidably, we +repeat, that the sovereignty which remains in the several States must be +looked for solely in the exception. What, then, is this exception? + +'It is a provision which says, that no State may be deprived of its +equal representation in the Senate, without its own consent. It might +well be questioned whether this provision of the Constitution renders a +Senate indispensable to the Government. But we are willing to concede +this point and admit that it does. Can the vote of a single State, which +is one of a body of thirty, and which is bound to submit to the decision +of a legal majority, be deemed a sovereign vote? Assuming that the whole +power of the Government of the United States were in the Senate, would +any one State be sovereign in such a condition of things? We think not. +But the Senate does not constitute by any means the whole or the half of +the authority of this Government; its legislative power is divided with +a popular body, without the concurrence of which it can do nothing; this +dilutes the sovereignty to a degree that renders it very imperceptible, +if not very absurd. Nor is this all. After a law is passed by the +concurrence of the two houses of Congress, it is sent to a perfectly +independent tribunal to decide whether it is in conformity with the +principles of the great national compact; thus demonstrating, as we +assume, that the sovereignty of this whole country rests, not in its +people, not in its States, but in the Government of the Union. + +'Sovereignty, and that of the most absolute character, is indispensable +to the right of secession: nay, sovereignty, in the ordinary acceptation +of the meaning of the term, might exist in a State without this right of +secession. We doubt if it would be held sound doctrine to maintain that +any single State had a right to secede from the German Confederation, +for instance; and many alliances, or mere treaties, are held to be +sacred and indissoluble; they are only broken by an appeal to violence. + +'Every human contract may be said to possess its distinctive character. +Thus, marriage is to be distinguished from a partnership in trade, +without recurrence to any particular form of words. Marriage, contracted +by any ceremony whatever, is held to be a contract for life. The same is +true of Governments: in their nature they are intended to be +indissoluble. We doubt if there be an instance on record of a Government +that ever existed, under conditions, expressed or implied, that the +parts of its territory might separate at will. There are so many +controlling and obvious reasons why such a privilege should not remain +in the hands of sections or districts, that it is unnecessary to advert +to them. But after a country has rounded its territory, constructed its +lines of defence, established its system of custom houses, and made all +the other provisions for security, convenience, and concentration, that +are necessary to the affairs of a great nation, it would seem to be very +presumptuous to impute to any particular district the right to destroy +or mutilate a system regulated with so much care. + +'The only manner in which the right of secession could exist in one of +the American States, would be by an express reservation to that effect +in the Constitution, There is no such clause; did it exist it would +change the whole character of the Government, rendering it a mere +alliance, instead of being that which it now is--a lasting Union. But, +whatever may be the legal principles connected with this serious +subject, there always exists, in large bodies of men, a power to change +their institutions by means of the strong hand. This is termed the right +of revolution, and it has often been appealed to to redress grievances +that could be removed by no other agency. It is undeniable that the +institution of domestic slavery, as it now exists in what are termed the +Southern and Southwestern States of this country, creates an interest of +the most delicate and sensitive character. Nearly one half of the entire +property of the slaveholding States consists in this right to the +services of human beings of a race so different from our own as to +render any amalgamation to the last degree improbable, if not +impossible. Any one may easily estimate the deep interest that the +masters feel in the preservation of their property. The spirit of the +age is decidedly against them, and of this they must be sensible; it +doubly augments their anxiety for the future. The natural increase, +moreover, of these human chattels renders an outlet indispensable, or +they will soon cease to be profitable by the excess of their numbers. To +these facts we owe the figments which have rendered the Southern school +of logicians a little presuming, perhaps, and certainly very +sophistical. Among other theories we find the bold one, that the +Territories of the United States are the property, not of the several +States, but of their individual people; in other words, that the native +of New York or Rhode Island, regardless of the laws of the country, has +a right to remove to any one of these Territories, carry with him just +such property as he may see fit, and make such use of it as he may find +convenient. This is a novel copartnership in jurisdiction, to say the +least, and really does not seem worthy of a serious reply.' + + +'SLAVERY. + +'The American Union has much more adhesiveness than is commonly +imagined. The diversity and complexity of its interests form a network +that will be found, like the web of the spider, to possess a power of +resistance far exceeding its gossamer appearance--one strong enough to +hold all that it was ever intended to enclose. The slave interest is now +making its final effort for supremacy, and men are deceived by the +throes of a departing power. The institution of domestic slavery cannot +last. It is opposed to the spirit of the age; and the figments of Mr. +Calhoun, in affirming that the Territories belong to the States, instead +of the Government of the United States; and the celebrated doctrine of +the equilibrium, for which we look in vain into the Constitution for a +single sound argument to sustain it, are merely the expiring efforts of +a reasoning that cannot resist the common sense of the nation. As it is +healthful to exhaust all such questions, let us turn aside a moment, to +give a passing glance at this very material subject. + +'At the time when the Constitution was adopted, three classes of persons +were 'held to service' in the country--apprentices, redemptioners, and +slaves. The two first classes were by no means insignificant in 1789, +and the redemptioners were rapidly increasing in numbers. In that day it +looked as if this speculative importation of laborers from Europe was to +form a material part of the domestic policy of the Northern States. Now +the negro is a human being, as well as an apprentice or a redemptioner, +though the Constitution does not consider him as the equal of either. +It is a great mistake to suppose that the Constitution of the United +States, as it now exists, recognizes slavery in any manner whatever, +unless it be to mark it as an interest that has less than the common +claim to the ordinary rights of humanity. In the apportionment, or +representation clause, the redemptioner and the apprentice counts each +as a man, whereas five slaves are enumerated as only three free men. The +free black is counted as a man, in all particulars, and is represented +as such, but his fellow in slavery has only three fifths of his +political value.' + + +'THE LOVE OF UNION. + +'The attachment to the Union is very strong and general throughout the +whole of this vast country, and it is only necessary to sound the tocsin +to bring to its maintenance a phalanx equal to uphold its standard +against the assaults of any enemies. The impossibility of the +Northwestern States consenting that the mouth of the Mississippi should +be held by a foreign power, is in itself a guarantee of the long +existence of the present political ties. Then, the increasing and +overshadowing power of the nation is of a character so vast, so +exciting, so attractive, so well adapted to carry with it popular +impulses, that men become proud of the name of American, and feel +unwilling to throw away the distinction for any of the minor +considerations of local policy. Every man sees and feels that a state is +rapidly advancing to maturity which must reduce the pretensions of even +ancient Rome to supremacy, to a secondary place in the estimation of +mankind. A century will unquestionably place the United States of +America prominently at the head of civilized nations, unless their +people throw away their advantages by their own mistakes--the only real +danger they have to apprehend: and the mind clings to this hope with a +buoyancy and fondness that are becoming profoundly national. We have a +thousand weaknesses, and make many blunders, beyond a doubt, as a +people; but where shall we turn to find a parallel to our progress, our +energy, and increasing power? That which it has required centuries, in +other regions, to effect, is here accomplished in a single life; and the +student in history finds the results of all his studies crowded, as it +might be, into the incidents of the day.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 7: The stereotype plates of _The Spirit of the Fair_, in which +the Cooper articles originally appeared, are owned by Mr. Trow. Bound +volumes of these interesting papers, containing a record of days so full +of patriotism, charity, and incident, may be obtained on application to +him. We give this piece of information to our readers, not doubting that +many of them will be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity to +possess them--an opportunity which may soon pass away in the rapid +development of present events.--EDITOR CONTINENTAL.] + + + + +APHORISMS.--NO. VIII. + + +'We shall never know much while we have so many books.' + +Such was my thought, many years ago; and such does all my observation +and experience still confirm. Knowledges we may have, even if we do read +much: but not much knowledge. + +But, some will ask, if one has true ideas, though derived from +others--is not that knowledge? Yes, if he has ideas: but propositions +expressing them are not enough: one may have many of these, and know but +little. For example, let us suppose Locke right about the mind's coming +into existence as a sheet of white paper--a man may receive this, and +yet not know it. See how easily this may be tested. White paper will +receive any impression you please: can the human mind receive the +impression that two and two are five, or that a part is equal to the +whole? Locke could have answered this, and seemed to save his theory. +The borrower from Locke cannot. + + + + +THE RESURRECTION FLOWER. + + +If a traveller in Egypt were to bow before the Sphynx, and receive a nod +in return, he could scarcely be more surprised than I was to-day, upon +seeing a little, dried-up thing--the remains of what had once bloomed +and faded ''mid beleaguering sands'--spring into life and beauty before +my very eyes. All the Abbott Collection contains nothing more rare or +curious. Old, perhaps, as Cheops, and apparently as sound asleep, it is +startled at the touch of water, and, stretching forth its tiny petals, +wakes into life as brightly as a new-born flower. + +No one could believe, upon looking at this little ball, hanging on its +fragile stem, and resembling both in color and shape a shrunken +poppy-head, or some of the acorn tribe, what magical results could arise +from merely wetting its surface--yet so it is. + +Sleeping, but not dead, the flower is aroused by being for an instant +immersed in water, and then supported in an upright position. Soon the +upper fibres begin to stir. Slowly, yet visibly, they unfold, until, +with petals thrown back in equidistant order, it assumes the appearance +of a beautifully radiated, starry flower, not unlike some of the Asters +in form. Resting a moment, it suddenly, as though inspired by some new +impulse, throws its very heart to the daylight, curving back its petals +farther still, and disclosing beauties undreamed of even in the +loveliness of its first awakening. + +To say that, in general effect, its appearance resembles the +passion-flower is to give but a poor description, and yet one searches +in vain for a more fitting comparison. Lacking entirely the strong +contrasts in color of the latter, it yet wears a halo of its own, unlike +any other in the whole range of floral effects. + +When viewed through a powerful lens, the heart of the flower, which, to +the naked eye, lies flooded in a warm, colorless light, assumes the most +exquisite iridescent hues, far more beautiful than the defined tints of +the passion-flower. Melting to the eye in its juiciness and delicacy, +yet firm in its pure outline and rounded finish, it bears the same +relation to that chosen type of the great Suffering, that peace bears to +passion, or that promise bears to prayer. + +Soon the aspect of the flower changes. As though over the well-spring of +its eternal life hangs some ruthless power forcing it back into +darkness, before an hour has passed, we can see that its newly-found +vigor is fading away. The pulsing light at its heart grows fainter and +fainter--slowly the petals raise themselves, to drop wearily side by +side upon its bosom--and finally, its beauty vanished, its strength +exhausted, it hangs heavy and brown upon its stem, waiting for the touch +that alone can waken it again. + +This rare botanical wonder, blooming one moment before admiring eyes, +and next lying dried and shrivelled in a tomb-like box, is not without +its legendary interest, though the odor of its oriental history has, by +this time, been nearly blown away by that sharp simoom of investigation, +which has already whirled so many pretty fables and theories into +oblivion. + +The story of the flower, as given in 1856, by the late Dr. Deck, the +naturalist, is as follows: + +While travelling on a professional tour in Upper Egypt, eight years +before, engaged in exploring for some lost emerald and copper mines, he +chanced to render medical service to an Arab attached to his party. In +gratitude, the child of the desert formally presented to him this +now-called 'Resurrection Flower,' at the same time enjoining upon him +never to part with it. Like the fabled gift of the Egyptian, it was +supposed to have 'magic in the web of it.' The doctor was solemnly +assured by the Arab, and others of his race, that it had been taken ten +years before from the breast of an Egyptian mummy, a high priestess, and +was deemed a great rarity; that it would never decay if properly cared +for; that its possession through life would tend to revive hope in +adversity, and, if buried with its owner, would ensure for him hereafter +all the enjoyments of the Seventh Heaven of Mahomet. When presented, +this flower was one of two hanging upon the same stem. Dr. Deck +carefully preserved one; the twin specimen he presented to Baron +Humboldt, who acknowledged it to be the greatest floral wonder he had +yet seen, and the only one of its kind he had met with in the course of +his extensive travels. + +For years the doctor carried his treasure with him everywhere, prizing +it for its intrinsic qualities, and invariably awakening the deepest +interest whenever he chanced to display its wondrous powers. During the +remainder of his life he caused the flower to open more than one +thousand times, without producing any diminution of its extraordinary +property, or any injury to it whatever. It is proper to state that, +though closely examined by some of the most eminent naturalists, both at +home and abroad, no positive position in the botanical kingdom was ever +assigned to it--indeed to this day it remains a waif in the floral +world, none having determined under what classification it belongs. + +I need not say that the doctor, while gratefully accepting the gift of +his Arab friend, quietly rejected the accompanying superstitions. +Subsequent trials and proofs positive confirmed his doubts of its +hope-inspiring power, while his inclination and good old prejudices +tempted him to forego the delights of the Seventh Heaven by bequeathing +his treasure to his friend and pupil, Dr. C. J. Eames, of New York, than +whom none could regard it with a truer appreciation, or recognize its +exquisite perfection with a feeling nearer akin to veneration. + +It has now been in the possession of Dr. Eames for several years, and +has, in the mean time, been unfolded many hundred times, still without +any deterioration of its mysterious power. It opens as fairly and +freshly to-day, as when, under Egyptian skies, more than sixteen years +ago, its delicate fibres, heavy with the dust of ages, quivered into a +new life before the astonished eyes of Dr. Deck. + +Well-named as, in some respects, it seems to be, this marvel of the +botanical world has already given rise to not a few discussions among +the scientific and curious, some earnestly proclaiming its right to the +title of 'Resurrection Flower,' and others denying that it is a flower +at all. Indeed, in its unfolded state, its resemblance to a flattened +poppy-head, and other seed vessels, offers strong argument in favor of +the latter opinion. In alluding to it, one uses the term 'flower' with +decided 'mental reservation'--beautiful flower, as it seems to be when +opened--and speaks of its 'petals' with a deprecating glance at +imaginary hosts of irate botanists. Some, it is true, still insist that +it is a _bona fide_ flower; but Dr. Deck himself inclined to the belief +that it was the pericarp or seed vessel of some desert shrub, rare +indeed, as few or none like it have appeared in centuries, yet not +without its analogies in the vegetable world. + +The famous Rose of Jericho (not that mentioned in the Apocrypha, or the +very common kind peculiar to the far East, but that long-lost variety +prized by the Crusaders as a holy emblem of their zeal and pilgrimage) +was, in all probability, a member of the same genus to which the +'Resurrection Flower' belongs. This opinion is supported by the fact +that resemblances of the 'flower,' both open and closed, are sculptured +upon some of the tombs of the Crusaders--two, in the Temple Church of +London, and several in the Cathedrals of Bayeux and Rouen in Normandy, +where lie some of the most renowned followers of Peter the Hermit. + +A brother of Dr. Deck, engaged in antiquarian research in the island of +Malta, discovered the same device graven upon the knights' tombs, and +invariably on that portion of the shield, the 'dexter chief,' which was +considered the place of highest honor. This gentleman has also furnished +the following quotation from an old monkish manuscript, describing 'a +wonder obtained from Jerusalem by the holy men, and called by them the +'Star of Bethlehem,' as, if exposed to the moon on the eve of the +Epiphany, it would become wondrous fair to view, and like unto the star +of the Saviour; and with the first glory of the sun, it would return to +its lowliness.' + +Doubtless the old chroniclers, had they lived in these days of evidence +and 'solid fact,' would have given some credit to the heavy dews +peculiar to moonlight nights, an exposure to which would assuredly have +produced all the effect of immersion upon the flower. + +The fact of so close a representation of the 'Resurrection Flower' being +upon the tombs of the Crusaders, added to the circumstance that in his +Egyptian researches he had never met with any allusion to it, induced +Dr. Deck to discard the story of its Egyptian origin as untenable. 'I +have unwrapped many mummies myself,' he wrote, 'and have had +opportunities of being present at unrolling of others of all classes, +and have never discovered another Resurrection Flower, nor heard of any +one who had; and in the examination of hieroglyphics of every age and +variety, I never discovered anything bearing the remotest resemblance to +it. Those who are conversant with the wonderful features of the Egyptian +religion and priestcraft, will observe how eagerly they seized upon and +deified anything symbolical of their mysterious tenets, and transmitted +them to posterity, figured as hieroglyphics; and it is but natural to +presume that this homely-looking flower, with its halo, so typical of +glory and resurrection, would have ranked high in their mythology, if +it, and its properties, had been known to them. Moreover, an examination +of the elaborate works of Josephus, Herodotus, King, and Diodorus, so +full in their description of Egyptian mythology, has failed to elicit +any description or notice of it whatever.' + +Nearly every one has read of the famous Rose of Jericho (_Anastatica +hierochontina_) or Holy Rose--a low, gray-leaved annual, utterly unlike +a rose, growing abundantly in the arid wastes of Egypt, and also +throughout Palestine and Barbary, and along the sandy coasts of the Red +Sea. One of the most curious of the cruciferous plants, it exhibits, in +a rare degree, a hygrometric action in its process of reproduction. +During the hot season it blooms freely, growing close to the ground, +bearing its leaves and blossoms upon its upper surface; when these fall +off, the stems become dry and ligneous, curving upward and inward until +the plant becomes a ball of twigs, containing its closed seed-vessels in +the centre, and held to the sand by a short fibreless root. In this +condition, it is readily freed by the winds, and blown across the +desert, until it reaches an oasis or the sea; when, yielding to the +'_Open Sesame_' of water, it uncloses, leaving nature to use its +jealously guarded treasures at her will. + +The dried plant, if carefully preserved, retains for a long time its +hygrometric quality. When wet, it expands to its original form, +displaying florets (?) not unlike those of the elder, but larger, +closing again as soon as the moisture evaporates. Hence it is +reverenced in Syria as a holy emblem. The people call it _Kaf Maryam_, +or Mary's Flower, and many superstitions are held regarding it, one of +which is, that it first blossomed on the night on which our Saviour was +born. Growing everywhere, upon heaps of rubbish and roofs of old houses, +by the wayside, and almost under the very door-stones, it creeps into +the surroundings of the people, weaving its chains of white, yellow, or +purple flowers while sunshine lasts, and, when apparent decay overtakes +it, teaching its beautiful lesson of Life in Death. Who can cavil at the +thought which raises it to a symbol of that Eternal Love forever weaving +endless chains from heart to heart, no spot too lowly for its tendrils +to penetrate, or too dreary for its bloom. + +Some specimens of the Anastatica have been carried to this country by +travellers. One, in the cabinet of Fisher Howe, Esq., of Brooklyn, and +brought by him from Jericho fourteen years ago, still retains its +remarkable habit; and another, older still, is in the possession of Dr. +Eames. + +Among the plants which exhibit curious phases of hygrometric action +might be cited some of the Fig Marigolds (_Mesembryanthemum_); also the +Scaly Club Moss (_Lycopodium_). The latter, after being thoroughly +withered, will, if laid in water, gradually expand, turn green, and +assume the appearance of a thriving plant. When again dried, it becomes +a brown, shrunken mass, capable, however, of being revived _ad libitum_. + +Some species of Fungi also exhibit a similar property--and all have +observed with what promptitude the various pine and larch cones cover +their seed in a storm, or even when it 'looks like rain.' I remember +being once not a little puzzled in trying to open a drawer that some +weeks before had been filled with damp pine cones. Upon becoming dry, +each individual had attempted a humble imitation of the genii in the +'Arabian Nights,' expanding to its fullest extent, only to be subjugated +by being cast again into the water. + +Some of the Algæ exhibit properties similar to that of the Club Moss; +and a marine plant known as the Californian Rock-rose is still more +curious. Clinging closely to the rocks, and feeding upon some invisible +debris, or, like certain orchids, drawing its sustenance from the air +(for the rocks upon which it grows, sometimes are lifted far above the +water), it attains an enormous size, being in some instances as large as +a bushel basket. It is not without a certain jagged beauty of contour, +resembling, more than anything else, clusters of Arbor Vitæ branches cut +out of wet leather, and meeting in the centre. Once torn from its stony +bed, the Rock-rose curls up into an apparently tangled mass of network, +having the general outline of a rose, but it will at any time, upon +being immersed in water, assume its original appearance. I have seen a +fine specimen of this plant open and close, for the hundredth time, +years after it had been taken from the rock. + +The Hygrometric Ground Star (_Geastrum hygrometricum_), found in many +portions of Europe, is well known; nearer home, we have a variety +(_Geastrum Saratogensis_) differing in some respects from its +transatlantic relative, which is of a warm brown color, and flourishes +in gravelly soil. + +The American variety grows abundantly in the drifting sands of Saratoga +County, N. Y. It has no stem or root, excepting here and there a fine +capillary fibre by which it clings to the ground. When dry, it contracts +to a perfect sphere, is rolled by the wind across the sand, and +(according to the account given by Dr. Asa Fitch, who has had a specimen +in his possession for twenty years) shakes a few seeds from the orifice +at its summit at each revolution. This seed ball also possesses the +power of opening when moistened, changing its spherical form to that of +an open flower about two inches in diameter. When opened, it displays +eight elliptical divisions, resembling petals. These are white as snow +on the inside, and traversed by a network of small irregular cracks, +while their outer surface resembles kid leather, both in color and +texture. + +The Ground Star differs in habit from the 'Resurrection Flower,' which +never yields its seed unless expanded by moisture (if Dr. Deck's theory +be correct), and is not nearly as intricate or beautiful in construction +as the oriental relic. Indeed, to this day, the 'Resurrection Flower,' +as one must call it for want of a better name, remains without a known +rival in the botanical world. From time to time, brief notices +concerning it have been published; and where writers, sometimes without +having seen the original, have claimed the knowledge or possession of +similar specimens, they have become convinced of their mistake on +personal inspection. Even the plants alluded to in a short account, +given eight years ago, in a leading New York periodical, as being the +same as the 'Resurrection Flower,' proved, on comparison by Dr. Eames, +to be entirely different. + +Although it is by no means certain that the plant in Baron Humboldt's +collection, and that owned by Dr Eames, are the only individuals of +their kind in existence, the fact of their great rarity is well +established. As far as I have been able to ascertain, there is but one +'Resurrection Flower' in America. + +That new plants might be obtained from this lonely representative of its +race few can doubt; but to this day the germs exposed so temptingly at +each awakening, have never been removed. Old as it is, it has never done +its work, the only seeds it has sown being those of inquiry and +adoration in the minds of all who have witnessed its marvellous powers. + +Whether the pretty oriental tale of its origin be true or not--and it +requires an oriental faith to believe it in the face of contradictory +evidence--none can gaze upon that little emblem of 'Life in Death'--so +homely and frail, and yet so beautiful and so eternal--without peculiar +emotion. + +What drooping, weary soul, parched with the dust of earth, but sometimes +longs to be forever steeped in that great Love in which it may expand +and bloom--casting its treasures upon Heavenly soil,--and glowing +evermore with the radiance of the Awakening. + + + + +RECOGNITION. + + + Now in the chambers of my heart is day, + And form and order. A most sacred guest + Is come therein, and at his high behest + Beauty and Light, who his calm glance obey, + Flew to prepare them for his regal sway. + Now solitude I seek, which once, possessed, + I fled; now, solitude to me is blessed, + Wherein I hearken Love's mysterious lay, + And hold with thee communion in my heart. + That thou art beautiful, thou who art mine-- + That with thy beauty, Beauty's soul divine + Has filled my soul, I muse upon apart. + In the blue dome of Heaven's eternity, + Rising I seem upborne by thoughts of thee. + + + + +THE SEVEN-HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF A GERMAN CAPITAL. + + +Most of our countrymen look upon Germany as all one. The varieties of +outlandish customs, costumes, and dialects observed among our emigrant +population from that land are little noticed, and never regarded as +marking districts of the fatherland from which they severally sprung. +One of the most fruitful themes of pleasant humor and biting sarcasm in +our periodical literature and in the popular mouth, is the ignorance +betrayed by enlightened foreigners, and especially foreign journalists, +in regard to the geography of our country; as though America were, _par +excellence_, THE land, and on whatever other subject the world might, +without meriting our contempt, fail to inform itself, our country, not +only in its glorious history and more glorious destiny, but in the +minuter details of the picture, must be understood and acknowledged. +This charge of ignorance is not unfounded. Often have I been not a +little amused when an intelligent German has inquired of me as a New +Yorker, with the sure hope of news from his friend in Panama, or another +to learn how he might collect a debt from a merchant at Valparaiso, or a +third to be informed why he received no answers to letters addressed to +friends in Cuba, and so on. But if the tables were turned upon us, there +is no point on which we should be found open to a more fearful +retribution than on this. I know an American gentleman of education--and +he told me the story himself--who applied at Washington for letters to +our diplomatic representatives in Europe, and who had sufficiently +informed himself to be on the point of sailing for several years' +residence abroad, and still, when letters were handed him for our +consul-general at Frankfort and our minister in Prussia, asked, with no +little concern, whether a letter to our minister in _Germany_ could not +be given him. I knew a correspondent of a New York journal fearfully to +scourge a distinguished German for his ignorance of American geography. +The same person, after months of residence in Munich, having about +exhausted the resources which it offered him for his correspondence, +gave a somewhat detailed account of the affairs of Greece, in which he +referred to King Otho as _brother_ of King Lewis of Bavaria, although +almost any peasant could have told him that the latter was _father_ to +the former. + +Indeed, there is nothing strange about this, unless it be that any one +should deem himself quite above the class of blunders which he +satirizes. It is less to be wondered at that one should continue to hurl +his satiric javelins at those who commit the same class of errors with +himself, since he seldom becomes aware of his own ridiculous mistakes. +In regard to Germany, our people know but its grand divisions and its +large cities; and of its people among us but their exterior +distinctions, and mainly those offered to the eye, arrest attention. We +meet them as servants or employés in kitchens, shops, and gardens, and +on farms, or as neighbors, competitors, or associates in business. At +evening we separate, and they go to their own domestic or social +circles, where alone the native character speaks itself freely forth in +the native language and dialect. There only the homebred wit and humor +freely flow and flash. There the half-forgotten legends and +superstitions, the utterance of which to other ears than those of their +own people is forbidden--perhaps by a slight sense of shame, perhaps by +the utter failure of language,--together with the pastimes and +adventures of their native villages or districts, are arrested in their +rapid progress to oblivion, as they are occasionally called forth to +amuse the dull hours or lighten the heavy ones of a home-sick life in a +foreign land. Could we but half enter into the hearts of the peasant +Germans who move among us, and are by some regarded as scarcely raised +in refinement and sensibility above the rank of the more polished +domestic animals of our own great and enlightened land, we should often +find them replete with the choicest elements of the truly epic, the +comic, and the tragic. + +How seldom do the people of different lands and languages learn to +understand each other--become so well acquainted as to appreciate each +other's most engaging traits? The German emigrant seeks a home among us, +and desires to identify himself with us. The costume of his native +district is thrown off as soon as he needs a new garment, often much +sooner. His language is laid aside except for domestic use and certain +social and business purposes, as soon as he has a few words of ours. +These words serve the ends of business, and rarely does he ever learn +enough for any other purpose. The other parts of the man remain +concealed from our view. He is to us a pure utilitarian of the grossest +school. His pipe suspended from his mouth, his whole time given to his +shop, his farm, or his garden, and to certain amusements unknown to us, +he is deemed to vegetate much like the plants he grows, or to live a +life on the same level with that of the animal he feeds, incapable of +appreciating those higher and more refined pleasures to which we have +risen--in other words, the true type of dulness and coarseness. An +intelligent Welshman once told me that he could not talk religion in +English nor politics in Welsh. So with the Germans among us. Their +business and politics learn to put themselves into English, their +religious, domestic, and social being remains forever shut up in the +enclosure of their mother tongue, and from this we rashly judge that +what they express is all there is of them. We have never considered the +difficulty of transferring all the utterances of humanity from their +first and native mediums to foreign ones. It is easy to learn the daily +wants of life or the formal details of business in a new language. Here +words have a uniform sense. But the nice shades and turns of thought +which appear in the happiest and most delicate jets of wit and humor, +and which form the great staples of pleasant social intercourse, depend +upon those subtile discriminations in the sense of words which are +rarely acquired by foreigners. One may have all the words of a language +and not be able to understand them in sallies of wit. How nicely +adjusted then must be the scales which weigh out the innumerable and +delicate bits of pleasantry which give the charm to social life! The +words to relate the legends connected with the knights and castles of +chivalry, saints, witches, elves, spooks, and gypsies, the foreigners +among us never acquire, or at least never so as to have the ready and +delicate use of them in social life, until their foreign character has +become quite absorbed in the fully developed American, and the taste, if +not the material for picturing the customs and legends of the fatherland +are forever gone. + +It is mainly North Germany with whose institutions we have become more +or less familiar through our newspaper literature, and the numbers of +students who have from time to time gone thither for educational +purposes. Some acquaintance has also been made with Baden and +Wirtemberg, in South Germany, as these principalities have a population +mainly Protestant; and Heidelberg, at least, has been a favorite resort +for American students. But the same is not true of Catholic South +Germany. Munich's collections and institutions of art--mainly the work +of the late and still living King Lewis I.--have, indeed, become +generally known. Mary Howitt, in her 'Art Student in Munich,' has given +us some graphic delineations of life there. The talented and witty +Baroness Tautphoens has done us still better service in her 'Initials' +and 'Quits,' in relation both to life in the capital and in the +mountains; yet the character, institutions, and customs of the people +remain an almost unexplored field to the American reader. + +In the middle of the twelfth century Munich was still an insignificant +village on the Isar, and had not even been erected into a separate +parish. About this time Henry the Lion added to his duchy of Saxony, +that of Bavaria, and having destroyed the old town of Foehring, which +lay a little below the site of Munich on the other side of the river, +transferred to the latter place the market and the collection of the +customs, which had till then been held by the bishops of Freising with +the imperial consent. The emperor Frederic I., in the year 1158, +confirmed, against the remonstrances of Bishop Otho I., the doings of +Henry. The duke hastened to surround the village with a wall and moat to +afford protection to those who might choose to settle there, and in +twenty years it had become a city. But the duke fell into disgrace with +the emperor, and the latter revoked the rights he had granted; but this +was like taking back a slander which had already been circulated. The +effect had been produced. Munich was to become a capital. + +Bishop Otho's successor would gladly have destroyed the infant city and +the bridge which had been the making of it. In consequence, however, of +his early death, this beneficent purpose toward his see of Freising +remained unexecuted. The next successor continued the same policy. He +built a castle with the design of seizing the trading trains which +should take the road to Munich, perhaps deeming this the best way of +magnifying his office as a leader in the church militant. But before he +could achieve his purpose of cutting off all supplies from the rival +town, and turning trade and tribute all to his own place, a new defender +of the rising city had sprung up in the house of Wittelsbocher--the same +which still reigns over the kingdom of Bavaria,--and the matter of the +feud was finally adjusted by the quiet surrender of the bridge and the +tolls to the city. + +The imperial decree, therefore, of 1158, must be regarded as having laid +the foundation of Munich as a city, and accordingly the seven hundredth +anniversary of its founding was celebrated in the year 1858. I shall +place a notice of this _fête_ at the head of the list of those which +occurred during my residence in that capital. + +It was a part of the plan that the ceremony of laying the foundation of +a new bridge over the Isar should be performed by the king. This was +deemed specially appropriate, because the springing up of the city had +depended upon a bridge over the river to draw thither the trade which +had gone to the old Freising. This occurred on Sunday, and I did not see +it. I never heard, however, but that his majesty acquitted himself as +well in this stone mason's work as he does in the affairs of court or +state--just as well, perhaps, as one of our more democratic Chief +Magistrates, accustomed to splitting rails or other kinds of manual +labor, would have done. I took a walk with my children at evening, and +met the long line of court carriages returning, followed by a procession +on foot, the archbishop, with some church dignitaries, walking under a +canopy and distributing, by a wave of the hand at each step of his +progress, his blessing to the crowds which thronged both sides of the +broad street. Some, perhaps, prized this more than we did, but I do not +suppose that there was anything in the nature of the blessing or in the +will of the benevolent prelate to turn it from our heretical heads. + +The other parts of this celebration consisted in dinners, plays in the +theatres, a meeting at the _Rathhaus_, at which were read papers on the +development of Munich for the seven hundred years of its existence, and +a procession, the whole occupying about a week. I shall only notice +specially the procession, and in connection with it the art exhibition +for all Germany, which closed at the same time, having been in progress +for three months; for the two greatly contributed to each other. + +The illustrated weekly, published at Stuttgart by the well-known +novelist Hacklaender, under the title of _Ueber Land und Meer_, refers +to these festivities in the following terms: + + 'Munich, the South German metropolis of art, was, during the + closing days of September, transformed into a festive city. The + German artists had assembled from all parts of the country, that + they might, within those walls, charmed by the genius of the muses, + wander through the halls in which the academy had collected the + best works of German art, and take counsel upon the common + interests, as they had formerly done at Bingen and Stuttgart. The + artists and the magistracy vied with each other in preparing happy + days for the visitors--an emulation which was crowned with the most + delightful results. The artists' festival, however, was but the + harbinger to the the city of the great seventh centennial birthday + festival of the Bavarian capital, which had been so long in + preparation, and was waited for with such impatience. Concerts and + theatres opened the festal series. Services in all the churches of + both confessions consecrated the coming days, and the laying of the + foundation of the new bridge over the Isar, leading to the + Maximilianeum, formed, historically, a monumental memorial for the + occasion. Favored by the fairest of weather, the city celebrated + the main festival on the 27th of September. It was a historical + procession, moved through all the principal streets of the city, + and caused departed centuries to pass in full life before the eyes + of the citizens and the vast assemblage of strangers there present. + It was no masquerade, but a true picture of the civilization of the + city, from its first appearance in history to the present day--'a + mirrored image,' says a chronicler of the festival, 'of times long + since gone by. + + 'The twelfth century opened the procession--representations of the + present time in science, art, and industry, as developed under the + reigns of Lewis and Maximilian, which have been so promotive of all + that is great, closed it up. But one voice was heard in regard to + the success of this festival.' + +The plan was to let representatives of the people for this whole period +of seven hundred years pass before the eyes of the spectators in the +fashions and costumes of their respective ages, bearing the implements +or badges of their several guilds or professions. The preparation had +been begun months beforehand. Artists had been employed to sketch +designs. The best had been selected. The costumes were historical. We +see sometimes in every part of our country, costumes extemporized from +garrets for old folks' concerts and other like occasions, but generally +they do not correspond with each other, or with the performances. The +result is committed to accident. The actors wear what their meagre +wardrobes of the antique furnish. The wider the divergence from present +fashions the better. Chance may bring together the styles of a dozen +successive periods, and render the whole without coherence. In such an +exhibition our interest is felt simply in the grotesque. It shows us how +a countenance familiar to us is set off by a strange and outlandish +costume. It represents no history. Such was not this procession. Its +front had twelfth century costumes of peasants, burghers, and even the +ducal family. So down to the very day of the festival; for statues of +the present royal family on open cars closed up the long line. It did +not seem indeed quite right that the successive ages of the dead should +pass before us living, and the living age alone lifeless. In one part of +the procession was an imperial carriage of state drawn by six horses, a +man in livery leading each horse, with all the necessary footmen, +outriders, and outrunners. The whole was antiquity and novelty happily +combined. The costumes and insignia of all classes, with the tools and +implements of all handicrafts, from the day when Duke Henry and Bishop +Otho, seven hundred years before, had had their petty bickerings about +the tolls of a paltry village, down to the present day, the whole +transformed into a living panorama, and made to pass in about four hours +before the eye. + +To set forth great things by small, a bridal pair remove from the East +and settle in our Western wilds. In a score of years they return to +their native place, wearing the very garments in which they had stood up +and been pronounced husband and wife. The picture is equal to a volume +of history and one of comedy, the two bound in one. But here, instead of +a score of _years_ we have a score of _ages_, reaching back to a period +farther beyond that great popular movement in which modern society had +its birth, than that is anterior to our own age. If all the costumes, +fashions, implements, and tools of the house, the shop, and the field, +insignia and liveries, from those of the first Dutch settlers of New +Amsterdam, down to those of New York's belles, beaux, and beggars of the +present day, should be made to pass in review before us, how absurdly +grotesque would be the scene! That veritable 'History of New York from +the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty, by Diedrick +Knickerbocker,' has perhaps shaken as many sides and helped digest as +many dinners as almost any book since Cervantes gave the world his +account of the adventures of his knight Don Quixote, and yet this great +historical work hints but a part of that picture, though doubtless +greatly improved by the author's delicate touches, which would pass +before us in a procession illustrating two centuries of New York's +history. Using such hints, the reader may partially judge of the +impression made by this setting forth of seven centuries of a capital of +Central Europe, and yet one can hardly tell, without the trial, whether +he would rather smile at the grotesqueness of the pageant, or be lost in +the profound contemplation of the magnificent march of history reënacted +in this drama. + +This procession spoke but to the eye. It was but a tableau, dumb, though +in its way eloquent. It detailed no actions; it only hinted them. It +simply presented the men who acted, clad in the outward garb, and +bearing the tools and weapons of their day. The cut of a garment, the +form of a helmet or halberd, a saddle or a semitar, a hoe or a hatchet, +or the cut of the hair or the beard, may speak of the heart and soul, +only, however, by distant hints. But just as the representation is less +distinct and detailed, is it a mightier lever for imagination to use in +raising again to life centuries which had long slept in the dust. The +superstructure of history, indeed, which we should rear upon such a +basis, would be wide of the truth on one side, just as the narratives +and philosophical disquisitions which come to us under that name are on +the other. History generally relates those things in which all ages have +been most alike--the same which have 'been from the beginning and ever +shall be'--the intrigues of courts and of diplomacy--varied mainly by +the influence of the religion of the Bible, as at first persecuted, then +rising by degrees to a rank either with or above the state, and becoming +a persecuting power, and then finally modifying and softening down the +native rudeness of the human race, until mutual and universal tolerance +is the result; court life, diplomacy, and war, however, remaining and +still to remain the perpetual subjects of historical composition. But +between this elevated range and the humble one of burghers' tools and +costumes, lies a boundless field of aspect, variegated with all the +forms which checker social and domestic life. Oh!--thought a little +group of American spectators occupying a room near the corner of Ludwig +and Theresien streets--could we but rend the veil of time which conceals +Munich's seven hundred years of burgher and peasant life, how odd, how +rude a scene would present itself! The reader's fancy may make the +attempt. I will aid a little if I can, and there was indeed some +material furnished in addresses prepared for that occasion, and in some +other papers which have come into my hands. + +The people of that little village on the banks of the Isar were but the +owners and tillers of the barren soil. Nearly a century (1238) after +Henry the Lion had surrounded it with walls, and a local magistracy had +been chosen; when two parishes--those of St. Peter and St. Mary--had +been already long established, we find a schoolmaster signing, doubtless +by virtue of his office, a certificate of the freedom of a certain +monastery from the city customs. That the school teacher must, _ex +officio_, sign such papers, spoke volumes. How few could have had the +learning, for it must indeed be done in Latin. And then the history of +the city runs nearly a century back of this date. What was the burgher +life of that first century of Munich's history? It is but the faintest +echo that answers. Schools there were at that day and long before. Nay, +the cloister schools were already in decay; but more than three hundred +years were yet to elapse before the rise of the Jesuit schools. Three +hundred years! How can we, of this age of steam, estimate what was +slowly revolving in society in those years? In 1271 we find an order of +the bishop of Freising requiring the parish rector to have a school in +each parish of the city; half a century later than this we meet +documentary evidence that school teaching had assumed a rank with other +worldly occupations, and was no longer subject to the rector of the +parish. If I could but set the reader down in a school room of that day, +I might forego any attempt to portray the times; but, alas! I cannot. He +would, however, doubtless see there groups of boys--for I half suspect +that this was before girls had generally developed the capability of +learning--the faces and garments clean or smutty, showing the grade of +social progress which had been gained, for we may presume that the use +of soap and water had been to some extent introduced, and if so, I have +erred again, for the dirty and the ragged did not go to school. These +could do without education. We should see, too, the beaming or the dull +and leaden eye--if, indeed, the eye spoke then as now--proclaiming the +master's success or failure. And then the schoolmaster, the chief figure +in the group, would be found to have the _otium cum dignitate_, and +especially the former, in a higher sense than is now known. And what was +the staple information which circulated among the people? Of this we +know more. It was made up of adventures of knights, miracles wrought by +the host, by crucifixes and Madonnas, and apparitions of saints, leading +some emperor or prince to found a church or monastery--a kind of history +which few churches or other religious institutions want. If there was +less of life in the humanity of that age than we have at present, there +was as much more in other things; for even those holy pictures and +statues could move their eyes and other parts. They found various ways +of expressing approbation of the pious, and frowning upon scoffers. +Crucifixes and Madonnas, carried by freshets over barren fields, brought +fertility. The devil, too, figured more largely in the narratives of +days before printed books formed the basis of education. He generally +appeared in the persons of giants and witches, which latter were his +agents by special contract. Their freaks had all shades of enormity, +from the slight teasing of the housewife in her baking and churning to +the peril of life and limb and endless perdition. The devil sometimes +coming in one of these forms endangered the lives of the quiet people of +the city by formally dismissing the watch between the hours of eleven +and twelve o'clock at night. So hundreds of things which he has become +too genteel in our day to practise. + +The founding of the city was near the close of that great movement known +as the crusades. What a world of material these furnished to be used in +popular education! The feats of knights, instead of assuming distinct +forms and being stereotyped and told to them in books, were surrendered +to the popular mouth for preservation and propagation. Saints, angels, +and demons attached themselves from time to time to these circulating +myths. Original characters often dropped out, and the discrimination of +the wisest believer in the real and ideal, became confused. Then came +the period of the Hussite war. This gave rise to many a miracle of +divine judgment. The Bohemian mocker of the holy mass, or of some +wonder-working statue of the Virgin, is pursued with divine vengeance. +The Jews--how suggestive the name, in the history of mediæval Europe, of +mystery, miracle, and murder!--were early allowed to settle in Munich. +They were assigned to a particular street. In the year 1285 a story was +started--it had been long stereotyped, and editions of it circulated in +every part of Christendom--of the murder of a Christian child. A +persecution of the Jews was the result--one hundred and forty were +burned in their own houses--and the poor Israelites must doubtless +suffer without redress, although many of them were then, as they now +are, bankers and brokers to the spiritual and temporal lords. Not far +from the same time the ducal mint was destroyed, because the people were +enraged to find the metal in their coin growing alarmingly less. For +this the city must pay a fine. + +From our first knowledge of this town it continued gradually, but very +slowly, to advance in intelligence--we should rather say from century to +century than from year to year; for during this period progress was too +slow to be perceptible, unless the observation were verified by the +pillars erected to mark the boundary lines between successive centuries. +The inquirer into the past often sighs out the wish that art had found a +way to transmit full impressions of all departed generations to the +latest living one. Perhaps he prudently limits the desired favor to +himself, otherwise the wish would not be wise; its realization would +place every lazy observer upon the same level with the studious +investigator. The cumbrous details, too, of sixty centuries piled upon +one mind would crush it, unless human nature were a very different thing +from that which we now behold. It is in accordance with a wise plan of +Providence that the deeds of past ages should perish with them, except +the few needed to cast their gleam of light upon the world's future +pathway. We are made capable of rescuing just enough for the highest +purposes of life, not enough to overwhelm and burden us in our march +toward the goal before us. It is thought by some that the point and +finish of the ancient Greek authors, as compared with the moderns, is +attributable to the fact that they were less perplexed with accumulated +lore and the multiplication of books and subjects of study. Their minds +were not subject to the dissipating effects of large libraries, and +daily newspapers with telegraphs from Asia, Africa, and Hesperia. I +shall not discuss this question. The amount of information handed down +from past ages even _now_ is but as the spray which rises above the +ocean's surface to the vast depths which lie below. The historical +fossils of those ages are therefore left to exercise the genius of the +Cuviers of historical inquiry. As that naturalist could, from a single +bone of an extinct animal species, make up and describe the animal, so +have inquirers into the past succeeded in picturing a departed age from +the few relics left of it. Hence we are treated occasionally with such +agreeable surprises in the march of history as the discovery of Pompeii, +Herculaneum, and Nineveh. The genius of our Wincklemanns, Champollions, +Humboldts, and Layards has found a worthy field. Such days as that I am +attempting to describe, representing seven centuries of a modern capital +before the admiring eyes of the present generation of its people, become +possible. Instead of the monotony of a perpetual observation, we have +the charm of alternate lulls and surprises. + +This picture has a further likeness to the naturalist's description made +from the fossils of extinct genera of animals. In the latter the animal +is made to stand before us. We have the data necessary to infer his +habits. But we see him not perfect in his wilderness home of unnumbered +ages past. We see him not the pursuer or the pursued; we hear not the +fierce growls or the plaintive note of alarm or distress. These we must +imagine. So, too, the slowly and peacefully moving train which passes +our windows, setting forth the sleeping centuries of this city. There is +the emperor in state--dukes in ducal magnificence--knights in armor with +horses richly and fancifully caparisoned--citizens in the dress of their +times--the various mechanics' and traders' guilds, with their +implements, their badges and their banners, with priests thickly +scattered through the whole line, which is ever changing as the +representatives of one age succeed those of another. The whole is calm +and quiet. The fierce contests, the angry broils, private and +public--now throwing the whole city into a ferment of innocent alarm, +now deluging its streets with blood--the rage of plagues, sealing up the +sources of human activity, and causing the stillness of the grave to +settle over the scene--all these we must supply; and surely the +thoughtful mind is busy in doing this as it contemplates the passing +train. We conceive rival claimants for the ducal throne, contending, +regardless of dying counsel, until death again settles what death had +thrown open to contest. Everything which has ever transpired on the +theatre of the world's great empires, may be conceived as enacted on +this narrower stage. The difference is less in talents and prowess than +in the extent of the field and the numbers of actors. + +From the period of the Reformation down we can form the picture with +more distinctness. Seehofen, son of a citizen of Munich, while a student +at Wittenberg, received Luther's doctrine, and through him many of his +townsmen. The most learned and able opponent whom the Reformer had to +encounter was John Eck, chancellor of the Bavarian University of +Ingolstadt--one of the most renowned at that day in Europe--which, by +removal to the capital, has now become the University of Munich. In 1522 +Duke William, of Bavaria, issued an edict forbidding any of his people +to receive the reformed doctrine. Bavaria, therefore, remained Catholic, +and Munich became the headquarters of German Catholicism. The electoral +duke, Maximilian, of Bavaria, was head of the Catholic league which +carried on the 'Thirty Years' War' against the Protestants under +Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, in the early part of the seventeenth +century. The city is full of sayings derived from this whole period, +such as to leave us no ground to wonder that few Catholics are inclined +to become Protestants. The only Protestant church in the city was built +within the last thirty years. It is but a few years since the house was +still shown in Scudlinger street, in which Luther, in his flight from +Augsburg, whither he had been called to answer for his teaching before +Cardinal di Vio in 1518,[8] stopped, his horse all in a foam, to take a +drink, and in his hurry forgot to pay for the piece of sausage which he +ate. In the market place was a likeness of Luther and his 'Katherl.'[9] +There are also numerous derisive pictures, such as the Reformer riding +upon a swine, with a sausage in his hand, which, however, all originated +in the mockery of the Jews, who were afterward compelled to surrender +some of them to the leading spirit of the Reformation. At Saurloch, a +little distance south of Munich, there were still, in 1840, to be seen +pictures of Luther and his wife in a group made up of chimney sweeps, +buffoons, and many others of the class. As this age passed before the +eyes of the spectators, they would doubtless give it new life by +attributing to it the spirit exemplified in these choice and tasteful +pictures and sayings, amusing at this day, doubtless, to both parties. + +The period of the 'Thirty Years' War' and the visit to Munich of +Gustavus Adolphus has left more sayings and monuments, and thus do more +honor to the people. After the Catholic victory near Prague, in 1620, +the elector celebrated a public entry into the city amid the jubilations +of the people and the Jesuits. A pillar was erected in remembrance of +the victory, and dedicated, eighteen years afterward, to the Virgin, in +accordance with a vow. The city was also variously adorned. The +rejoicing was somewhat premature. In 1632 the duchess and ducal family +had to remove to Salzburg for safety, whither they carried with them the +bones of St. Benno, the patron saint of the city, and other valuables. +The king of Sweden entered the walls under a promise, which he had made +in consideration of three hundred thousand florins, to be paid to him by +the people, to secure them against fire, sword, and plunder. Ladies +freely gave up their precious ornaments to make up the amount. But they +failed. The conqueror took forty-two priests of the religious orders, +and twenty respectable citizens, as hostages for the payment. These +wandered around with his camp for three years, and then all returned +except four, who died during the time. The traditions of the people give +the king credit for having strictly abstained from plunder, and executed +the only man who transgressed his rule, although the citizens failed on +their part. How beautifully the brilliant and the glorious mingle with +the sad and the sombre in the picture which we form of this age as the +passing train brings it before our minds! How religion, variously tinged +with the sable hues of superstition, wrought upon that age! The Swedish +king, the moment victory turns in his favor, dropping upon his knees in +the midst of the dead and the dying, the clouds of smoke and dust as yet +unsettled, pours out his soul in fervent prayer and thanksgiving.[10] He +but represents his army and his age. The Catholic army are not less +devout in their way. Germany is full of monuments and sayings of this +period. Those of Munich are of the Catholic side. There stands in a +public square an equestrian statue of colossal size, in bronze, of the +elector Maximilian, head of the Catholic League--his pillar to the +Virgin still stands--and the great general of the League, Count Tilley, +represented in bronze, is among the prominent objects viewed by the +visitor to this capital. On the other hand, the greatest organization in +Europe for the aid of Protestants in Catholic lands, having branches +everywhere, bears the name of Gustavus Adolphus. Let the reader then +conceive the visions which flit through the minds of the spectators as +this age passes in review before them. + +But here I shall close this part of the picture. The description of the +city as it now exists belongs in other connections. It has been +suggested, as greatly adding to the interest of this birthday festival +of the capital, that it concurred in time with the exhibition of the art +of all Germany in the Crystal Palace. Although the two had no natural +connection, yet they became so intertwined in fact as not easily to be +separated. I shall therefore just touch upon the art display. + +Works of art are dry subjects of description, and that too just in the +proportion of their exquisiteness to behold. Things made for the eye +must be presented to the eye. Works of a coarse and comic nature can, +indeed, be described so as to produce their effect. Here, for instance, +is a railroad-station man. Such in Bavaria, dressed in their quaint +little red coats, must stand with the hand to the hat as if in token of +profound respect for the train while it passes. This one, when lathered +and half shaved, was suddenly called by the train, and in this +predicament he stands while it passes. The best new work in the +exhibition was one in water colors by Professor Schwind, of Munich, +setting forth the popular German myth of the seven ravens. It sold to a +prince for seven thousand florins. I know better than to attempt a +description. The 'Raising of Jairus' Daughter,' a picture sent on by the +king of Prussia, gave the best impression I have ever had of life once +departed, and now suddenly beginning again to quiver on the lip and +gleam in the eye; or as Willis has it: + + 'And suddenly a flush + Shot o'er her forehead and along her lips, + And through her cheek the rallied color ran; + And the still outline of her graceful form + Stirred in the linen vesture;' + +thus changing the sadness of the family assembled round the couch into a +lustre sympathetic with that of her own reopened eyes. + +These specimens have been given to show that such subjects are incapable +of description. The exhibition continued from June to October, and the +collection was so extensive that a shorter period would have been +scarcely sufficient for the study of works exhibited. During this time +the characteristic enthusiasm and jealousies of the artists were +variously exemplified. The delightful hours spent in walking through +these halls will be among my latest remembrances. + +This whole festive period culminated with the closing days of September. +The city had been unusually full all summer, but as its great birthday +festival approached, the crowds thickened, until its capacity for +lodging room had been transcended. All parts of Germany were +represented, nor did delegates from the rest of the civilized world +fail. + +The question naturally arises, whether New York, Boston, or Philadelphia +has a history which would appear well in such a drama! Although our +history extends back over little more than one fourth of the period +occupied by that of Munich, it might afford this material. The annals of +public events would be found preserved with great fulness and +distinctness--the archives of city and state councils and of the +churches would supply the needed facts--but who could furnish the +fashions, tools, and implements of each successive age from that of the +Pilgrim fathers to that of the great rebellion? Who would perform the +labor of research necessary to ascertain what they were? Where is the +American court, supported at an expense of several millions per annum, +to preserve all these in collections, or to get them up for court +theatres? Who would pay for making all these for a procession of twenty +thousand persons, with all the necessary horses and carriages? And +surely, if we could not feel the confidence that everything was +historical, all our interest in the display would be gone. I am +apprehensive that we shall be obliged to leave such exhibitions to those +countries which have hereditary heads, and, making a virtue of +necessity, console ourselves with the thought that we have something +better. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 8: Luther was not in Munich at that time, if indeed he ever +was.] + +[Footnote 9: Catherine Bora, Luther's wife.] + +[Footnote 10: _Vide_ Schiller's 'Geschichte des dreisigjährigen +Krieges.'] + + + + +THE DANISH SAILOR. + + + Far by the Baltic shore, + Where storied Elsinore + Rears its dark walls, invincible to time; + Where yet Horatio walks, + And with Marcellus talks, + And Hamlet dreams soliloquy sublime; + + Though forms of Old Romance, + Mail-clad, with shield and lance, + Are laid in 'fair Ophelia's' watery tomb, + Still, passion rules her hour, + Love, Hate, Revenge, have power, + And hearts, in Elsinore, know joy and gloom. + + * * * * * + + Grouped round a massy gun + Black sleeping in the sun, + The belted gunners list to many a tale + Told by grim Jarl, the tar, + Old Danish dog of war, + Of his young days in battle and in gale. + + The medal at his breast, + The single-sleeved blue vest, + His thin, white hair, tossed by the Norway breeze, + His knotted, horny hand, + And wrinkled face, dark tanned, + Tell of the times when Nelson sailed the seas. + + * * * * * + + Steam-winged, upon the tides + A gallant vessel glides, + Two royal flags float blended at her fore, + Gay convoyed by a fleet, + Whose answering guns repeat + The joyous 'God speeds' thundered from the shore. + + 'Look, comrades! there she goes, + Old Denmark's Royal Rose, + Plucked but to wither on a foreign strand; + Can Copenhagen's dames + Forget their country's shames-- + Her sons, unblushing, clasp a British hand? + + 'Since that dark day of shame + Which blends with Nelson's fame, + When the prince of all the land led us on, + I little thought to see + Our noblest bend the knee + To any English queen, or her son. + + 'What the fate of battle gave + To our victor on the wave, + Was as nothing to the bitter, conscious sting, + That our haughty island foe + Struck a sudden, traitor blow, + In the blessed peace of God and the king. + + 'Ay, you were not yet born + On that cursed April morn, + When they sprang like red wolves on their prey, + And our princeliest and best + By our humblest lay at rest, + In the heart's blood of Denmark, on that day. + + 'And now, their lady queen, + O'er our martyrs' graves between, + Stoops to cull our cherished bud for her heir, + And the servile, fickle crowd + Shout their shameless joy aloud, + All but one old crippled tar--_who was there_! + + 'Till the memory shall fail + Of that treach'rous, bloody tale, + Or the grief, and the rage, and the wrong, + Shall enforce atonement due, + On some Danish Waterloo, + To be chanted by our countrymen in song, + + 'I will keep my love and truth + For the Denmark of my youth, + Nor clasp hands with her enemies alive; + Ay, I'd train this very gun + On that British prince and son, + Who comes _here_, in his arrogance, to wive. + + 'When I gave my good right arm, + And my blood was spouting warm + O'er my dying brother's face, as we lay, + I played a better part, + I bore a prouder heart, + Than the proudest in that pageant bears to-day. + + * * * * * + + '--There floats the Royal Bride, + On that unreturning tide;-- + By the blood of all the sea-kings of yore, + 'Twere better for her fame, + That Denmark sunk her shame + Where the maelstrom might drown it in his roar!' + + * * * * * + + There was silence for a space, + As they gazed upon his face, + Dark with grief, and with passion overwrought; + When out spoke a foreign tongue, + That gunner-group among: + 'Neow old Jarl ses the thing he hed'nt ought. + + 'This idee of keeping mad + Half a cent'ry, is too bad; + 'Tis onchristian, and poor policy beside; + For they say that the young man + Has the 'brass to buy the pan,' + And _her_ folks are putty sure that he'll _provide_.' + + * * * * * + + The old seaman's scornful eye + Glanced mute, but stern reply, + And the Yankee vowed and swore to me, the bard, + That old Jarl, that very night, + By the northern moon's cold light, + Talked with Hamlet's father's ghost in the back yard. + + + + +AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. + + +There are two opposite standpoints from which American civilization will +be regarded both by the present and future generations; opposite both in +respect to the views they give of American society and the judgment to +be formed thereon: so opposing, in fact, that they must ever give rise +to conflicting opinions, which can only be reconciled in individual +instances by the actual occurrence of great events, and never when +dealing with generalities. These two far distant points of view are the +foreign and the native. We are, more perhaps than any other nation in +existence, a peculiar people. Our institutions are new and in most +respects original, and cannot be judged by the experience of other +nations. Our manner of life and modes of thought--all our ideas of +individual and national progress, are _sui generis_, and our experience, +both social and political, as based upon those ideas, has been similar +to that of no other race which history records. Hence to the foreign +historian or philosopher our inner life is a sealed book; he can neither +understand the hidden springs of action which govern all the movements +of our body politic, nor appreciate the motives or the aspirations of +the American mind: in a word, he can never be imbued with the _spirit_ +of our intellectual and moral life, which alone can give the key-note to +prophecy, the pitch and tone to true and impartial history. And he who, +reasoning from the few _à priori_ truths of human nature, or from those +characteristics which the American mind possesses in common with that of +the Old World, shall pretend to treat of our systems and our +intellectual life, or to map out our future destiny, will be as much at +fault as the historian of a thousand years ago who should attempt to +portray the events of this our day and generation. The historian of +American civilization must not only be among us, but _of_ us--one who is +able not only to identify his material interests with those of the great +American people, but also to partake of our moral habitudes, to be +actuated by the same feelings, desires, aspirations, and be governed by +the same motives. By such an one alone, who is able to understand our +moral life in all its phases and bearings, can a clear and truthful view +be taken of the great events which are continually agitating our +society, and their bearings upon our present and future civilization be +correctly estimated. + +It is precisely from lack of this sympathy and of appreciation of the +difficulties under which we have labored, that America has suffered in +the opinion of the world. For the foreign view, looking upon us not as a +new people, but as the offshoot of an old and cultivated race, has +conceded to us little more than a certain mechanical ingenuity in +fitting together the parts of an edifice built upon a foundation already +laid for us away back in the ages--a carrying out of plans already +perfected for us, and requiring little of originality for their +development; forgetting that oftentimes the laying of the foundation is +the easiest part of the work, while the erection and embellishment of +the superstructure has taxed the efforts of the loftiest genius. In so +far as regards the development of the national mind, the strengthening +of the originating and energetic faculties, and the capability of +profound and well directed thought arising therefrom, we are, as a race, +deeply indebted to our progenitors of the Old World, and we have reaped +therefrom a great advantage over other nationalities in their inception. +But aside from these benefits, the cultivation of the race before the +settlement of our country has been rather a hamper upon our progress. +For here was to be inaugurated a new civilization, upon a different +basis from and entirely incompatible with that of the Old World; here +was to be established an idea antagonistic to those of the preexisting +world, and evolving a new and more progressive social life, which needed +not only a new sphere and new material, but also entire freedom from the +restraints of the old-time civilization. And it is harder to unlearn an +old lesson than to learn a new. The institutions and modes of thought of +the Old World are to the last degree unfavorable to the progress of such +a nationality as ours. Their tendency being toward the aggrandizement of +the few and the centralization of power, renders them wholly +incompatible with that freedom of thought and action, that opening up of +large fields of exertion as well as of the road to distinction and +eminence, with all their incentives to effort, which are the very life +of a majestic republic stretching over a large portion of the earth's +surface, embracing such mixed nationalities, and founded upon principles +of progress both in its physical and mental relations which have +rendered it in very truth a new experiment among the nations. We had +first to forget the divine right of kings, and the invidious +distinctions of class, with all their deep-seated and time-honored +prejudices, and to start forward in a different and hitherto despised +path toward which the iron hand of our necessity pointed, and in which +all men should be considered equal in their rights, and the position of +each should depend, not upon the distance to which he could trace a +proud genealogy, but upon the energy with which he should grapple with +the stern realities of life, the honesty and uprightness with which he +should tread its path, and the use he should make of the blessings which +God and his own exertions bestowed upon him. We had to learn the great +but simple lesson that + + 'The rank is but the guinea's stamp, + The man's the man for a' that;' + +and in so doing, to accept, for a time, the position of the Pariahs of +Christendom, through the imputation of degrading all things high and +noble to the rank of the low and vulgar, of casting the pearls of a +lofty and ennobled class before the swinish multitude, of throwing open +the doors of the treasury, that creatures of low, plebeian blood might +grasp the crown jewels which had for ages been kept sacred to the +patrician few; in a word, we had to take upon ourselves all the odium of +a despised democracy--a moral agrarianism which should make common +property of all blessings and privileges, and mingle together all +things, pure and impure, in one common hotch-potch of corruption and +degradation. Greater heresy than all this was not then known, and the +philosopher of to-day has little conception of the sacrifice required of +those who would at that time accept such a position. + +Another and not less important lesson which our ancestors had to learn +was, that national prosperity which depends upon the learning and +refinement or energy of a certain privileged class, can never be +otherwise than ephemeral; that the common people--the low plebeians, +whom they had been taught to consider of the least importance in the +state, are in reality the strength of the land; and that in the +amelioration of their condition, in the education and mental training of +the masses, while at the same time placing before them the highest +incentives to individual exertion, lies the only sure basis of an +enduring prosperity--that the only healthful national growth is that +which is made up of the individual strivings of the great mass rather +than the self-interested movements of the few; and as a consequence of +this truth, that the privileged minority is really the least important +of the two classes in any community. In the infancy of government, when +a rude and unlettered people are little able to take care of +themselves, the establishment of class distinctions is undoubtedly +conducive to progress, as it tends to unite the people, thereby +counteracting the thousand petty jealousies and strifes and bickerings +which invariably beset an infant people, and to organize and systematize +all progressive effort. It is, in fact, a putting of the people to +school under such wholesome restraints as shall compel them forward +while guarding them against those evil influences which militate against +their prosperity. But in the course of events the time comes when these +restraints are no longer necessary, but rather become hampers upon the +wheels of progress; and when that period arrives, all these invidious +distinctions should, in a well-regulated state, gradually disappear and +give place to that freedom which is essential to individual advancement +as the basis of national power. Trained as our ancestors had been to +consider these distinctions divinely appointed, it was no easy task for +them to abrogate so aged and apparently sacred a system, and nothing but +the material evidence before their eyes in the experience of their own +society, convincing them that such a course was an actual necessity of +their future well-being, could have induced them so to depart from the +teachings of their progenitors. Nor was it less difficult to determine +how far these safeguards of the olden time might safely be dispensed +with, or where or how deeply the knife should be applied which, in the +fallibility of human judgment, might possibly cut away some main root of +their social organization. Here was required the exercise of the +profoundest wisdom and the most careful discretion--wisdom unassisted by +any experience in the past history of the world other than that of the +utter failure of all past experiments in any way similar to their own. +To us of to-day, viewed in the light of intervening experience and of +the increased knowledge of human affairs, this may seem a little thing; +but to them it was not so, for the path was new and untried, and they +were surrounded by the thickest of darkness. Thus it will be seen that +in the founding of our system there were great difficulties, which only +the loftiest aims and the utmost firmness and determination in the cause +of the good and the true, with the liveliest sense of the necessities +and the yearnings of human nature, and the true end of all human +existence, could have overcome,--difficulties which, with all the +cultivation of their past, rendered their task not less arduous than +that of the founders of any community recorded in history even among the +rudest and most savage of peoples. And for all their energy and +perseverance the world has not yet given them the credit which is their +due, although the yearly developing results of their labors are +gradually restoring them to their proper position in the appreciation of +humanity. And the time will come when their memory will be cherished all +over the earth as that of the greatest benefactors of the human kind. As +the Alpine glacier year after year heaves out to its surface the bodies +of those who many decades ago were buried beneath the everlasting snows, +so time in its revolutions heaves up to the view of the world, one by +one, the great facts of the buried past, to be carefully laid away in +the graveyard of memory, with a towering monument above them to mark to +all succeeding ages the spot where they have wrought in the interest of +humanity. + +Another evil effect of this same foreign view is to lead the world to +expect of us, the descendants of an old and polished civilization, more +than is warranted by the facts of our history or even by the +capabilities of human nature in its present stage. And this, too, arises +from a false estimate of the difficulties which have beset us on every +side, and from the paucity of the world's experience, and consequent +knowledge, of such experiments as our own. The march of human +advancement has but just begun in this its new path; and it is but +little wonder that, excited by our past successes, and stimulated to an +inordinate degree as their ideas of progress have become through the new +truths which our efforts have brought to light, the friends of human +freedom all over the world should expect from us more astonishing +developments, more rapid progress, than is compatible with the frailties +and fallibilities of our humanity. Hence in the light of this morbid +view our greatest successes are looked upon as somewhat below the +standard which our advantages demand. + +With the foreign view we, as a nation, have nothing to do. We must be +content to act entirely independently of the opinions of the outside +world, being only careful steadfastly to pursue the path of right, +leaving to future ages to vindicate our ideas and our motives. So only +can we possess that true national independence which is the foundation +of all national dignity and worth, and the source of all progress. We +must free ourselves from all the hampering influences of old-time dogmas +and worn-out theories of social life, content to submit to the +aspersions of Old-World malice, confident that time will prove the +correctness of our policy. So only can we throw wide open the doors of +investigation, and give free scope to those truths which will not fail +to follow the earnest strivings of a great people for the purest right +and the highest good. + +In estimating any civilization at its true value, the law of God is +obviously the highest standard. Yet in these days of divided opinion and +extended scepticism, when scarcely any two hold exactly the same +religious views, and when all manner of beliefs are professedly founded +on Holy Writ, such a comparison would only result in as many different +estimates as there are reflecting minds, and the investigation would be +in no degree advanced. Even the moral sense of our own community is so +divided upon the distinctions of abstract right, that the application of +such a standard to our civilization would only open endless fields of +useless because interested and bigoted discussions. + +There are two other and more feasible methods of conducting such an +investigation; the first of which is that of comparing our own +civilization with that of Europe; marking the differences, and judging +of them according to our knowledge of human nature and the light of past +experience and analogy. Yet such a course presents the serious objection +of preventing an impartial judgment through the strong temptation to +self-laudation, which is in itself the blinding of reason as well as the +counteraction of all aspirations for a still higher good. + +The third and last method is that which takes cognizance of the most +obvious and deeply felt evils connected with our own system, and +reasoning from universally conceded principles of abstract right, and +from the highest moral standard of our own society, to study how they +may best be remedied and errors most successfully combated. From such a +course of investigation truth cannot fail to be evolved, and the moral +appreciation of the thinker to be heightened. For such a method presents +less danger of partiality from local prejudices, religious bias, or +national antipathy. And such is the method which we shall endeavor to +pursue. + +Judging from mankind's sense of right, of justice, and of that moral +nobility which each individual's spiritual worthiness seems to demand, a +pure democracy is the highest and most perfect form of government. But +such a system presupposes a _perfect_ humanity as its basis, a humanity +which no portion of the earth has yet attained or is likely to attain +for many ages to come. Hence the vices as well as the weaknesses of +human nature render certain restraints necessary, which are more or +less severe according as the nation is advanced in moral excellence and +intellectual cultivation, and which must gradually disappear as the race +progresses, giving place to others newer and more appropriate to the +changing times and conditions of men. Under this view that progress in +the science of government is alone healthy which keeps exact pace with +the moral progress of the nation, and tends toward a pure democracy in +exactly the degree in which the people become fitted to appreciate, to +rationally enjoy, and faithfully guard the blessings of perfect liberty. +Too rapid progress leads to political anarchy by stimulating, to a +degree unsustained by their acquirements and natural ability, the +aspirations of the ambitious and the reckless, thereby begetting and +nationalizing a spirit of lawlessness which grasps continually at +unmerited honors, and strives to make all other and higher +considerations bend to that of individual advancement and personal +vanity. The truth of this position is seen in the utter failure of all +attempted democratic systems in the past, which may be traced to this +too eager haste in the march of human freedom, ending invariably in the +blackest of despotism, as well as from the fact in our own history that +every era of unusual political corruption and reckless strife for +position and power, has followed close upon the moral abrogation of some +one of those safeguards which the wisdom of our fathers threw around our +political system. + +On the other hand, advancement which does not keep pace with the +expansion of thought, the intellectual development, and consequent +capacity of the people for self-government, not only offers no +encouragement to effort, but actually discourages all striving, and +blunts the appetites of the searchers for truth. It fossilizes the +people, retards the march of intellect by its reactionary force, and +rolls backward the wheels of all progress, till the nation becomes a +community of dull, contented plodders, fixed in the ruts of a bygone +age, suffering all its energy and life to rust away, day by day, in +inaction. Such we find to be the case with those nations of the Old +World which are still ruled by the effete systems of a feudal age. The +governmental policy and the intellectual status of the masses mutually +react upon each other, effectually neutralizing all progress, whether +moral or physical. + +For these reasons that nicely graduated mean between political +recklessness and national old fogyism, which alone guarantees an +enduring progress, is the object of search to all disinterested +political reformers. For only by following such a golden mean, in which +political reform shall keep even pace with intellectual and moral +advancement, can physical and mental progress be made mutually to +sustain each other in the onward march. Yet this mean is extremely +difficult to find, for though we be guided by all the experience of the +past, and earnestly and sincerely endeavor to profit by the failures as +well as the successes of those who have gone before us, the paths of +experiment are so infinite and the combinations of method so boundless, +that the wisest may easily be led astray. Hence the failures of the +republics of the past, however pure the motives and lofty the aims of +their founders, may be attributed to a leaning to one side or the other +of this strait and narrow way, which lies so closely concealed amid the +myriad ramifications of the paths of method. The slightest divergence, +if it be not corrected, like the infinitesimal divergence of two +straight lines, goes on increasing to all time, till that which was at +first imperceptible, becomes at last a boundless ocean of intervening +space, which no human effort can bridge. + +To say that we, as a nation, are following closely this golden mean, +that our wisdom has enabled us to discover that which for so many ages +has remained hidden from men, were simply egotistical bombast; for it +were to assert that with us human nature had lost its fallibility and +human judgment become unerring. Yet we may safely assert that no system +exists at the present day which so clearly tends toward the attainment +of such a mean, and which contains within itself so many elements of +reform, as our own. For ours is a system of extreme elasticity, a sort +of compensation balance, constructed with a view to the changing climate +of the political world, and capable of accommodating itself to the +shifting condition of men and things. And this not by forcing or leading +public sentiment, but by yielding to it. Thus while it is founded upon, +and in its workings evolves, so many lofty and ennobling truths, keeping +constantly before the eyes of the people lessons of purity and moral +dignity, acting as a check upon the visionary and a safeguard to our +liberties, it nevertheless yields quietly to the requirements of the +times, and changes according to the necessities of the governed, thus +being far from proving a hamper upon our intellectual advancement, but, +on the contrary, leaving free and unimpeded the paths of national +progress. And it is one of the most distinctive features of our +institutions that, while few foreign Governments admit of much change +without danger of revolution, with us the most thorough reforms may be +consummated and the greatest changes effected without danger of ruffling +the waves of our society. For with us change is effected so gradually +and in such exact consonance with the necessities of the people as to be +almost imperceptible, and to afford no handle to the turbulent and +designing revolutionist. The gratification of legitimate ambition is +guaranteed, but our system utterly revolts against the sacrifice of the +public good to the inordinate cravings of personal ambition or +aggrandizement. It is in recognition of this principle of gradual change +that the politician of to-day hesitates not to avow and to advocate +principles which twenty years ago he deemed the height of political +absurdity. It is not abstract truth that has altered, but the necessary +modification of theories resulting from the altered condition and +exigencies of society. Were this truth not recognized, no statesman +could for many years retain his hold upon the popular appreciation, for +he would at once be branded with inconsistency and incontinently thrown +aside as an unsafe counsellor. Hence the hackneyed phrase, 'ahead of the +times,' contains within itself a deep and important meaning, since it is +but a recognition of the fact that relative right and wrong may change +with the condition of society, and that theories may be beneficial in a +more advanced stage, which at present would be noxious in the extreme, +and that, in consequence, he is an unsafe leader who grasps at some +exalted good without making sure of the preliminary steps which alone +can make such blessings durable--who would, at a single leap, place the +nation far ahead in the race of improvement, without first subjecting it +to that trial and discipline which are absolutely necessary to fit it +for a new sphere. And the extreme disfavor with which such agitators are +regarded by society is an evidence of the safeguard which our +institutions contain within themselves, which, by moulding the minds of +the people to a proper appreciation of the blessings of limited reform +and of the inevitable and necessary stages and degrees of progress, as +well as of the danger of too sudden and radical change, effectually +counteract the evil influence of the unmethodical and empirical +reformer. + +Our Government, in its form, can in no sense of the word be called a +democracy, however much its workings may tend toward such a result in +some far-distant future. It is founded in a recognition of the fact that +however equal all men may be in their civil and political +rights--however the humblest and most ignorant member of the community +may be entitled to 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' all +men are not equal either in intellectual endowments or personal +acquirements, and consequently in their influence upon society, or +equally fitted either to govern or to choose their rulers. Our ancestors +recognized the fact that the people are not, in the democratic sense of +the term, fitted to govern themselves. Hence they threw around their +system a network of safeguards, and adopted and firmly established +restraints to counteract this principle of democratic rule, without +which our infant republic would soon have fallen to pieces by the force +of its own internal convulsions. And time has proven the wisdom of their +course, and we shall do well if we shall reflect long and deeply before +we essay to remove the least of those restraints, remembering that when +once the floodgate is opened to change, the eternal tide is set in +motion, and a precedent established which will prove dangerous if it be +not carefully restrained within the limits of the necessities of the +times. + +To draw an illustration from the constitution of our body politic: we +find that the people meet in their primary elections, and choose a +representative to their State legislature, which representative is, +_theoretically_, considerably advanced above his constituents in +intellect, and in knowledge and experience of governmental affairs, and +of the necessities of the nation; by whom, in conjunction with his +colleagues--and not by the people themselves--a Senator is chosen to +represent the State in the national Congress,--which Senator, in his +turn, _theoretically_, is elevated above his constituents, not by the +fortuitous circumstance of birth or of worldly possessions, but in point +of intellect and acquirements, and consequent capacity to govern. Again, +the people do not directly choose their President, but select certain +electors, to whose superior wisdom and judgment is intrusted the task of +determining who is most fitted to rule the nation for the coming +presidential term. In the single instance of the representative to +Congress do the people choose directly from among themselves. And this +was adopted as a wise precaution that he, springing directly from their +midst, owing both his present and future position to their suffrages, +more closely identified with them in interest, and partaking more nearly +of their modes of thought, and who from the shortness of his term might +easily be displaced if he should prove recreant to his trust, thus +having every inducement to correctly represent the sentiments and +protect the rights of his constituents, might act as a check upon that +other house, which, further removed in every respect from the people, +elected more in accordance with, the aristocratic institutions of the +mother country, and from this exalted and exclusive position, and long +term of office, more liable to aristocratic influences, might be tempted +to combine for the consolidation of power and the gratification of +personal ambition, even at the expense of the liberties of the people. + +Such is the _theory_ of our form of Government; the practical working of +it has altered with the times. While the form of the Constitution is +still observed to the letter, the spirit is, in a great measure, +abrogated. The people now choose only those representatives whose +sentiments are well known and whose future course can safely be +predicated--only those electors who stand pledged to cast their votes +for a designated candidate. Yet even now there is nothing to prevent +those representatives from pursuing a course entirely opposed +to all previous professions, and the known wishes of their +constituents--nothing to hinder those electors from casting their votes +for some third party, or combining to place in the executive chair some +unknown person whom the people have not chosen or desired; nothing, if +only we except the eternal odium and political damnation of public +opinion. Yet it may well be questioned if this same public opinion be +not after all the safest custodian of the public interest, the most +powerful restraint which could be imposed upon these representatives of +the people to compel them to a strict performance of their trust. + +Yet while, as we have said, a pure democracy is but another term for the +highest type of civilization, the fact that our form of Government is +not in any sense of the word a democracy, is no argument against our +civilization, but rather in its favor. For it is but a recognition of +the fact that no people on earth is yet fitted for a pure democracy as a +basis of their institutions: it is an adapting of ourselves to that +state of things for which we are most fitted, instead of grasping at +some Utopian scheme of perfection, which the common sense of the nation +tells us is beyond our present capacity. On the other hand, it is a +frank acknowledgment of our own defects and frailties. As the '[Greek: +gnôthi seauton]' of the heathen philosophers contained within itself the +germ of all individual philosophy and moral progress, so does it +comprehend the whole problem of national growth and progress. It is only +the rudest, most ignorant and barbarous nation that arrogates to itself +perfection: it is that nation only which, conscious of no defects, sees +no necessity for reform, and has no incentive thereto. The consciousness +of defects, both physical and moral, is the life of all reform, and +hence of all progress; while the capacity to detect error in our system +implies the ability for thorough reform, and the cultivation which +underlies such knowledge implies the inclination to effect it. The +establishment of a pure democracy in our midst, in the present state of +human advancement, were evidence of a lack of that civilization which +depends upon earnest thought and a proper appreciation of the present +capabilities as well as the frailties and imperfections of our humanity. + +We have seen that while, in the matter of choosing our rulers and +legislators, our institutions are, in their practical workings, +democratic, in form they are by no means so. This cannot long remain so. +An empty form is of little value, and ere many years the country will +either return to the principles of the olden time--which in the present +advanced state of public sentiment is not likely--or else sweep away the +form and simplify the whole system. Already the question has begun to be +agitated of submitting the presidential vote directly to the people +without intervention of electors. But it may well be doubted whether, in +the light of the political corruption of to-day, even this be not too +great an advance upon the democratic principle for the moral condition +of our people. For many years our country has been the victim of a +demagoguism, resulting from the working of this very principle, and the +question admits of serious discussion whether, instead of abrogating the +form, a return to the _spirit_ of the Constitution, while, at the same +time, holding strictly amenable those to whom this important choice is +intrusted, would not result in a pure and more statesmanlike +administration of public affairs. For the elector, being held +politically responsible for the conduct of the candidate for whom his +vote was cast, and for all the evils resulting from mal-administration, +would soon learn that to be faithful is not less important than to be +wise, and that his political interest was identified with the well-being +of the country. But it is one of the evils of our rapid progress that +the past is looked upon with such disfavor as to effectually prevent a +return even upon the path of error. In the pride of our civilization the +simpler theories of the olden time are despised as unworthy of, if not +wholly unfitted for, our present exalted intellectuality. The principle +is ignored that reform may sometimes be effected by retracing the steps +of years. Hence reform in this particular must either adopt the +dangerous experiment of establishing the pure democratic principle, or +else devise some third plan which shall charm by its novelty at the same +time that it is founded upon some evident and abiding truth. + +And in this connection another great evil becomes evident which is in +itself a fault of our civilization, and not a defect arising from any +fundamental error in our system; an evil which, although always +predominant, has been more active in its workings, more injurious in its +effects during the present war than ever before. It is the spirit of +bitter, uncharitable, and even malicious opposition of the minority to +the acts and theories of the party in power, forgetting that no great +evil was ever yet effectually counteracted by opposition, which only +fans the flame and makes the fire burn hotter. And while no good can be +effected by such opposition, its direful effect is to divide the +councils of the nation, to paralyze the executive arm in all times of +great emergency, to render but half effectual every great national +enterprise, to make wavering the national policy, to exasperate +political parties more and more against each other, thereby dividing the +people and weakening the national life and progress, preventing all +concentration of effort and unanimity of purpose, and--worst of +all--subjecting the country periodically to the violent shock of +opposing systems, according as parties alternate in power, tossing the +ship of state in the brief period of a four years' term from one wave of +theory to another, and opposing one, only to be hurled back as violently +as before. Can it be doubted that such a state of affairs is injurious +to prosperity and either political or social advancement? Were the +results of every Administration for _good_, there would be less danger; +but radical evils cannot but result from the bitter partisanship of the +party in power, and when the scale is reversed and the opposite party +gains the ascendency, the new Administration has scarcely time to +correct the errors of its predecessors and to establish its own theory, +ere the popular tide ebbs and flows again in the opposite direction, the +ins are out and the outs are in, and again the alternation begins. +Certainly party divisions are the life of a republic, from their +tendency to counterbalance each other, and periodically reform abuses, +thus keeping the vessel in the straight course; yet when those divisions +reach the point which we see in our midst to-day, when the avowal of any +principle or theory by the one party, however just or beneficial it may +seem, is but the signal for the uncompromising hostility and bitter +denunciation of the opposition, who seek to make of it a handle to move +the giant lever of political power, unmindful of the wants and the +urgent necessities of the land--a hostility having for its basis the +single fact that the new measures are unfortunately advocated by the +opposite party--then such divisions become not only injurious to the +body politic, but a foul blot upon the civilization of our day and +nation. This is perhaps putting the question in a strong light; but, +admitting that we have not yet reached that point, are we not swiftly +drifting in that direction? Let every candid thinker put the question to +himself and ponder it deeply, remembering, while looking for the +ultimate result, that it was the bitter hostility of opposing factions +which ruined the republics of old, and which to-day convulse many that +might otherwise take rank among the most powerful and progressive +nations of the earth, neutralizing their progress, and holding them +constantly suspended above the gulf of anarchy and desolation. + +Ask the oppositionist of to-day what he proposes or expects to +accomplish by his hostility to the powers that be, and he will answer +to little purpose. A vague idea is floating in his brain of some 'good +time coming' for his party, yet he knows very little what or when this +good time shall be, living on in the hope of some unknown event which +shall reverse the political chessboard. The opposition of to-day is that +of ultra conservatism to radicalism, of which the tendency of the one is +toward the stationary, that of the other to the rapidly progressive. The +so-called conservative, apparently blind to the result, and looking to a +return of the nation to the worn-out theories of the past as the result +of the efforts of his clique, is straining every nerve to paralyze the +arm of the Government, and to neutralize the effect of every great +achievement, doing everything in his power to exasperate the large +majority who are endeavoring to sustain the country in her hour of +peril, seemingly unconscious that in so doing he is not only working +steadily to defeat his own purpose, but also paving the way for the +destruction of his faction. For he is endeavoring to drag the country +backward along the track of years--an object which, as all history +proves, can never be effected with any progressive race; on the +contrary, such nations have ever owed their ruin to the inevitable +tendency to too rapid advancement. Again, by embittering the feelings of +his opponents toward himself and his coadjutors, he is effectually +preventing any future reconciliation and coöperation of the divided +factions, in which only could he hope for success, and raising up a +powerful opposition which will counteract all his future efforts. + +A purer civilization would look at this question of party divisions in a +different light, recognizing it as an institution of Providence, whereby +great good may be effected when its benefits are properly appreciated, +and at the same time as a terrible engine of destruction when misused or +not properly controlled. A purer civilization would recognize and +candidly acknowledge every element of good in the theories of even the +fiercest opponents, and heartily coöperate in every enterprise whose +tendency was to the national good, working steadily and cheerfully side +by side with rivals and political opposers, and confining its own +opposition strictly to those measures of which the effect is, judged by +its own standard, obviously evil. The _rôle_ of the true reformer is to +glide quietly along with the tide of events, becoming reconciled to +those measures which, though contrary to his own convictions, are +nevertheless too firmly established to admit of being shaken by his most +powerful efforts; and so while carefully avoiding all unnecessary +antagonisms, all useless stirring up of old bitternesses, to seek so to +identify himself with the current of events, and so to become part and +parcel of the nation's political life and progress, as to be enabled to +guide into the channel of future good the movement which at first +started awry. Even where the vessel has widely diverged from the path of +good, and follows that which leads to inevitable destruction, it is his +part, instead of wasting his powers in useless struggles to stay her +course, to continue on as part and parcel of the precious freight, +seeking opportunity so to guide the erring prow that she shall be +gradually diverted from the evil course toward some distant and advanced +point of the forsaken track, without being violently dragged back along +her wake. So reaching at last the accustomed course, the good ship will +still be far advanced upon her way with all the benefits of past +experience of evil to act as a warning against future digressions from +the established path of progress. It will be time enough then to point +out the dangers she has escaped, and to argue the absurdity of the olden +theories which have so seriously interfered with her navigation. By such +a course alone will he secure the respect of his opponents, and the +love and admiration of those who never fail to appreciate sterling +integrity of purpose, uprightness of motives, and persevering effort in +the cause of the public good, which is that of the right and the true; +and so only will he quiet and disarm that factious spirit which would +otherwise be ever ready to start into a violent opposition at his first +effort in the public cause. Nor must such a course imply time-serving or +sycophancy, or the least concealment of any of the loftiest and noblest +sentiments. In any matter of wrong, where the voice and the concentrated +effort of the true philanthropist can avail to check the nation's +career, the voice of the reformer should not fail to be raised in its +most powerful tones, and all his energy exerted to form such political +and social combinations as shall effect his purpose. But in those stages +which are prominent in every nation's progress, when the tide of public +opinion sets full and irresistibly in one direction, sweeping along all +thought and energy in its course, against which it were madness to +contend until the tempest shall have worn itself out by its own +violence--more especially when the great questions involve a mere +difference of opinion as to the results of important measures or the +general tendency of the public policy--then, when opposition would only +serve to arouse a factious or disputatious spirit, his part is to glide +quietly along with the popular movement, acquiescing in and reconciling +himself to the condition of affairs till such time as the public +sentiment is ripe, and the circumstances fitting for the advocacy and +the triumph of his own views; meanwhile letting no opportunity escape to +guide the national mind and direct the nation's strivings to such a +consummation. + +By such a course only can he effect great results and make durable the +establishment of his own cherished principles. + + + + +CHURCH MUSIC. + + +From the earliest Christian period of which we have any knowledge, music +has been employed in the public worship of Christian communities. Its +purposes are, to afford to the devotion of the worshippers a means of +expression more subtile than even human speech, to increase that +devotion, and to add additional lustre and solemnity to the outward +service offered to God. Music has a wonderful power in stirring the +souls of men, in (so to speak) moving the soil of the heart, that the +good seed sown by prayer and instruction may find ready entrance, and a +wholesome stimulus to facilitate growth. Now, it is the duty of all +concerned in the ordering of public worship to see that the music +employed tends to effect these ends. + +In the year 1565, the composers of church music were in the habit of +employing so many and well-known secular melodies, and of rearing upon +them and upon their own inventions such complicated and unintelligible +contrapuntal structures, that the church authorities took the matter +seriously in hand, and there is no knowing what might have been the +final sentence, had not Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina brought his +genius to the rescue, and, in sundry compositions, especially in a +six-part mass, dedicated to Pope Marcellus II., shown that science need +not exclude clearness, and the possibility of hearing the words sung, +and that the truly inventive artist has no need to seek his themes in +inappropriate spheres. + +In this day we run little risk of ship-wreck through too great an amount +of science. Scarlatti and Bach would laugh at the efforts styled 'canon' +and 'fugue,' by the aspiring tyros of the present age. Our difficulties +arise, not from musical complexity, but from want of suitableness, +adaptation, and characterization, together with the ever-increasing feud +between choir and congregational singing. In some churches on the +Continent of Europe, these two latter modes are happily blended, certain +services or portions of services being left to the choir, and the +remainder being entrusted to the entire congregation. Of course this +arrangement is only practicable where there is a certain variety in the +musical portion of the service. Where the singing of hymns (in the +ordinary sense of the phrase) is the only musical form used in the +worship, such differences would be difficult to establish, and a variety +of circumstances must determine which of the two modes, or what +combination of them, be selected by the congregation. Even where +splendor is studiously avoided, all desire order and decency in the +conduct of public worship, and such order is painfully violated where +discordant sounds or unsuitable selections of music are permitted to +distract attention and disturb devotion. A ragged carpet, faded fringes, +or dingy window panes, would speedily find a reformer; and surely the +sensitive, defenceless ear has as good a claim to exact order as the +more voluntary sense of seeing. Better, indeed, no music, than such as +binds the wings of the soul to earth instead of aiding them to fly +heavenward. + +The above remarks apply as well to choir as to congregational singing. +Let us suppose now that the mere primal foundation--the mechanical +execution--be respectably good; that the congregation or choir have been +taught to sing in tune; that all be harmonious and properly balanced; in +short, that the auditory nerves be spared any very severe shock--and +what then will we ordinarily find? A few good old church melodies, +almost lost amid a dreary maze of the most recent droning platitudes, or +a multitude of worldly acquaintances, negro minstrelsy, ancient love +ditties, bar room roundelays, passionate scenes from favorite operas, +with snatches from instrumental symphonies, concertos, or what not! +Music, as I have said, is even more subtile in its power of expression +than speech, and the _new words_, which we may perhaps not even hear, +can never banish from our minds the _old impressions_ associated with +the melody. The ears may even be cognizant of the holy sentiments +intended to be conveyed, but the mind's eye will see Sambo, 'First upon +the heel top, then upon the toe;' the love-lorn dame weeping her false +lover, 'Ah, no, she never blamed him, never;' a roystering set of good +fellows clinking glasses, 'We won't go home till morning;' Lucia +imploring mercy from her hard-hearted brother and selfish suitor; Norma +confiding her little ones to the keeping of her rival; or perhaps the +full orchestra at the last 'philharmonic,' supplying the missing notes, +the beginning and the end of some noble idea, now vainly struggling with +the difficulties and incongruities of its new position, its maimed +members mourning their incompleteness, its tortured spirit longing for +the body given by the original creator. + +Are we Christians then so poor that we must go begging and stealing +shreds and patches from our more fortunate secular brethren? Has music +deserted us to dwell solely in the camps of the gypsying world? If so, +there must be some fault among ourselves, for music is a pure gift from +God, the only _earthly_ pleasure _promised_ us in heaven. Such +imputation would indeed be a libel upon the almost infinite variety in +the character of music, and its power of consecration to the very +loftiest ends. Ah! there we fear is the rub. _The character of music!_ +_That_ seems to have been forgotten. If all these melodies be adapted to +their original aims, can they be suited to new ones so different? Is +there really in musical form, rhythm, melody, and harmony, no capacity +for any real expression? Will the same tune do as well for a dance as +for a prayer, for a moonlight serenade as for an imploration of Divine +mercy? + +Now we have no quarrel with dances; they are innocent and useful in +their proper place; human love is a noble gift from the Almighty; we are +not shocked by a good drinking song, provided the singers be sober; +operas _might_ be made highly instrumental in elevating the tone of +modern society; and we listen reverentially to the grand creations of +the masters; but, in addition to all these, we require a music adapted +to signify the relations between ourselves and our Heavenly Father, a +music which shall express adoration and love, praise and thanksgiving, +contrition and humble confidence, which shall implore mercy and waft +prayer to the very gates of the abode of omnipotence. Let such music be +simple or complex, according to the thought to be rendered or the +capacity of the executants, let it be for voices, for instruments, or +for a blending of the two, but let it always be appropriate to the +subject, and rise with the thought or emotions to be conveyed. Who can +tell what would be the effect of such a church music? What a feeling of +earnestness and sincerity would it not lend to services now often marred +by the shallowness or meretricious glitter of their musical portions? +The range is wide, the field broad; there is scope for grandeur, +sublimity, power, jubilation, the brightest strains of extatic joy, +mourning, pathos, and the passionate pleading of the human soul severed +from its highest good; but all should be in accordance with the dignity +of the personalities represented: on the one hand, the Father and +Creator of all, and on the other, the weak, erring, dependent creature, +made, nevertheless, in the image of his Creator, and for whom a God +thought it no unworthiness to live, to suffer, and to die. + +Have we any such music? Yes--a little; but that little is not always the +best known nor the most frequently employed. Are there any composers now +capable of writing such? Are the composers of genius, or even of talent, +sufficiently earnest and devout? for here we want no shams. Each one +must answer these questions in accordance with his own experience. The +practical question is, What can be done toward an amelioration of the +present state of affairs, not confined to this continent, but unhappily +only too prevalent everywhere? Let the head of the musical department of +every church service begin by weeding from his repertory all _trash_, +whether profane or simply stupid and nonsensical. As the number of +musical creations remaining will not be very large, let him retain for +the present all that are not positively bad or inane; a few old song +melodies have, through long usage, lost their original associations, and +hence, though perhaps only imperfectly adapted to devotional purposes, +are yet, on the whole, unobjectionable, and perhaps better than many +modern inventions. + +An idea seems prevalent that, to write words for music is an easy task, +and hence the many wounds inflicted upon both music and poetry in their +frequent union. When a melody is to be composed for a set of verses, the +same melody to be sung to every verse, the composer naturally examines +the general tone and form of the poem. These of course determine his +selection of rhythmical character, of time, key, movement, etc. The +melody is constructed upon the basis of the first verse. To the words +embodying the most important thoughts or feelings, he gives the most +important, the emphatic notes, striving to make the sound a faithful and +intensifying medium whereby to convey the sense. _His_ work is then +done, as the same melody is to be repeated to every verse, and the end +sought will have been attained if the poet have carefully fulfilled +_his_ part. But if he have introduced inequalities into his rhythm, or +have given unimportant words the places occupied by important ones in +the first verse, so that an emphatic note will fall upon an 'in,' or a +'the,' or some similar particle, the effect will be bad, and the result +unsatisfactory to all concerned. Old association, or intrinsic beauty of +poetry or melody may, in rare cases, render such blemishes tolerable, +but the creator of a new work should strive to avoid all blemishes, and +at least _aim_ at perfection. + +If to each good religious poem we possess, or may hereafter possess (be +that poem psalm, hymn, sequence, litany, prayer, or form of doctrine), +we could attach, or find attached, the musical form best adapted to its +highest expression, what delight would we not experience in its +rendering? Some such poems might, by reason of old associations, or of +especial adaptation, be always sung to the same melodies, while to +others might be accorded greater facilities for variety. This only by +way of suggestion. The common practice of selecting melodies for verses, +hap-hazard, with regard only to the 'metre,' of course destroys all +possibility of any especial characterization. If the original 'marriage' +have been a congenial one, a divorce, with view to a second union, +rarely proves advisable. The same verses may bear another musical +rendering, but the music will very rarely endure adaptation to other +verses. + +But we left our _maestro di capella_, our head of the music in any +religious assemblage, weeding his repertory. A difficult task! for, to +sound principles of discrimination he must add the best counsel and the +widest information he can procure from every competent quarter, not +narrow nor one-sided, but commensurate with the breadth, the world-wide +diffusion of the subject. + +We cannot hope for very speedy progress in this matter, so large a share +of its advancement depending upon general, real and proper musical +cultivation; but if each one interested will think the matter over +seriously and intelligently, and do the little that may lie in his +power, a beginning will have been made, which may in the end lead to +grand, beautiful, and most precious results. + + + + +APHORISM.--NO. IX. + + +Our Saviour says of life: 'I have power to lay it down, and power to +take it again.' We have not such power in our own hands; but our Lord +holds it for us, so that our position is independent of the world, and +of the power of evil, just as His was; and as in His case He did resume +more than He laid down, so will be given to us by the same Almighty hand +more than any creature has to surrender for the highest objects of +existence. + +Such doctrine, I may add, is not, in its essence, merely Christian: it +has been the common sentiment of our race, that one of the highest +privileges of our being is to sacrifice ourselves, in various modes and +degrees, for the good of our fellow men; and those who cheerfully do +this, even if it be in the actual surrender of life, are esteemed +blessed, as they are also placed above others in the ranks of honorable +fame, and held to be secure of the final rewards of a heavenly state. + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + + LIFE OF WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. By GEORGE + TICKNOR. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. + +There are no discordant voices on either side of the Atlantic with +regard to the literary merits of William H. Prescott. Truth, dignity, +research, candor, erudition, chaste and simple elegance, mark all he has +ever written. His noble powers were in perfect consonance with his noble +soul. His strict sense of justice shines in all its brilliancy, in his +evident desire to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, of every +character appearing in his conscientious pages. No current of popular +prejudice, however strong, swerves him from his righteous path; no +opportunity for glitter or oratorical display ever misleads him; no +special pleading bewilders his readers; no 'might is right' corrupts +them. His genius is pure, dramatic, and wide; his comprehension of +character acute and clear; his characterization of it, chiselled and +chaste; his ready comprehension of magnanimous deeds evinces his own +magnanimity; his correct understanding of various creeds and motives of +action proves his own wide Christianity; chivalry was known to him, +because he was himself chivalrous; and we have reason to rejoice that +the field in and through which his noble faculties were developed, was +the vast and varied one of history. We doubt if any one ever read his +works without forming a high conception of the character of their +author, a conception which will be found fully realized in the excellent +Life given us by George Ticknor. If no one is qualified to write the +Life of a man, save one who has familiarly lived with him, who but Mr. +Ticknor could have given us such a biography of Prescott? This +advantage, together with the similarity of literary tastes, the common +nationality in which their spheres of labor lay, their long friendship, +their congeniality of spirit, with the mental qualifications brought by +Mr. Ticknor to his task of love, renders his production one of +inestimable value. It is indeed full of sweet, grave charm, and +thoroughly reliable. In these pages we see how it was that no man ever +found fault with or spoke disparagingly of Prescott--we find the reason +for it in the perfect balance of his conscientious and kindly character. +He was in the strictest sense of the words 'lord of himself,' mulcting +himself with fines and punishments for what he regarded as his +derelictions in his labors, compelling himself to pursue the tasks which +he had determined to achieve. There is no more interesting record than +that of his constant struggles to conquer the effects of his growing +blindness, none more inspiriting than the results of his efforts. He +loved and lived among his books; his last request was that his body +should be placed among them ere it was given to the grave. + +This delightful biography, which has been received so warmly, both at +home and abroad, was originally published in an elegant quarto volume, +illustrated in the highest style of art, and an edition was printed +which was considered quite too large for the present times. But the +edition was soon exhausted, and Messrs. Ticknor & Fields have now given +us the Life in a 12mo volume, thus placing it within the means of all +readers. We rejoice at this, because Prescott belongs to us all: while +his life is dear to the scholar and lover of his kind, it furnishes some +of the most important lessons to Young America. Such a man is a true +national glory. We close our imperfect notice with a short extract from +Mr. Ticknor's preface: 'But if, after all, this memoir should fail to +set the author of the 'Ferdinand and Isabella' before those who had not +the happiness to know him personally, as a man whose life for more than +forty years was one of almost constant struggle--of an almost constant +sacrifice to duty, of the present to the future--it will have failed to +teach its true lesson, or to present my friend to others as he stood +before the very few who knew him as he was. + + "Virtue could see to do what virtue would + By her own radiant light, though sun and moon + Were in the flat sea sunk." + + + SERMONS, Preached at Trinity Chapel, Brighton, by the late + Rev. FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON, M. A., the Incumbent. Fifth + Series. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. For sale by D. Appleton & + Co., New York. + +The sermons of Mr. Robertson are very popular in England. They are +remarkable for clearness and excellence of style, and earnestness of +purpose. Many noble lessons are to be drawn from them, even by those who +differ with the author on sundry points of doctrine. We wish, however, +for the credit of theological exactness, that he had been somewhat more +careful in stating the views of his adversaries. Referring to the use of +indulgences, he says: 'The Romish Church permits crime for certain +considerations.' The Roman Catholic doctrine as actually held is, that +an indulgence is a remission of a portion of the earthly or purgatorial +punishment due to any sin, after it has been duly repented of, +confessed, abandoned, and restitution made so far as possible. It can +consequently never mean a pardon for sins to come, as is often +ignorantly supposed, and is apparently a reminiscence of the ancient +practice of canonical penances inflicted on penitents. + +Just now, when the entire scientific world is being convulsed by the +attempted substitution of some inflexible law for a personal God with a +living _will_, it is not strange that some phase of the same idea should +creep into even the purest theology, and that in Mr. Robertson's theory +of prayer we should find traces of the rigidity characterizing 'ultra +predestinarian' as well as 'development' schemes of creation. + +We cannot better conclude than by quoting the following passage from the +sermon on 'Selfishness,' a home thrust to nearly all of us: 'It is +possible to have sublime feelings, great passions, even great sympathies +with the race, and yet not to love man. To feel mightily is one thing, +to live truly and charitably another. Sin may be felt at the core, and +yet not be cast out. Brethren, beware. See how a man may be going on +uttering fine words, orthodox truths, and yet be rotten at the heart.' + + + WOMAN AND HER ERA. By ELIZA W. FARNHAM. 'Every + book of knowledge known to Oosana or Vreehaspatec, is by nature + implanted in the understandings of women.'--_Vishnu Sarma._ In 2 + volumes. New York: A. J. Davis & Co., 274 Canal street. + +This is a book which will excite violent criticism, and call forth +opposition, as all new statements invariably do. Its author says it is +twenty-two years since its truths took possession of her mind, and that +they are as firmly grounded among the eternal truths for her, as are the +ribbed strata of the rocks, or the hollows of the everlasting sea. Mrs. +Farnham attempts to prove the superiority of woman in all, save the +external world of the senses, the material structure of the work-a-day +world. She regards the knowledge and acceptance of this fact as of vital +importance to the order of society, the happiness of man, the +development of his being, and the improvement of the human race. Her +argument is not the sentimental one so often profaned in our midst. She +traces the proofs of her assertions to the most profound sources, +presents them in her acute analyses and philosophical arguments, and +draws practical applications from them. She is sincere in her +convictions, and able in her arguments; she sets up a high standard of +womanly excellence for _noblesse oblige_, and teaches faith in God and +humanity. + +We have not space to follow Mrs. Farnham's argument: it would require a +review rather than a cursory notice. She shows that there is an +intuitive recognition of the superiority of woman in the universal +sentiments of humanity, that man's love when pure assumes the superior +qualities of the woman loved, that he looks to her to aid him in his +aspirations for a better life than he has lived before; but woman never +proposes to herself a reform from any gross or vicious habit by reason +of her first lesson in love. The reverse is more apt to be the case. + +In man the love of power is an infernal passion, because its root is +self love; in woman, it is a divine impulse, connected only with the +love of noble uses. Our author is no advocate for women's rights, there +being two orders of human capacities, masculine and feminine. Man is +master of the outer world: woman cannot cope with him there; her sphere +is freer, deeper, higher, and of more importance to the future destinies +of the race. This book will be sharply criticized by the clergy, pure +and good men, but always hard on woman, although she keeps the lamp of +faith trimmed and burning in the churches, believing her always a mere +subordinate of man, and utter submission to him her chief virtue. The +lady-killers and men of pleasure will scorn it, for it exposes many of +their claims and vices, which they labor to hide with glittering veils +of dazzling sophisms. Will our women read it? We think not. Mrs. Farnham +treats of difficult subjects, with the freedom and innocence of an +anatomist; but will our fair and shrinking students enter the dissecting +room, even to learn some of the secrets of life? + +We differ from Mrs. Farnham in many important particulars. We think she +has made some errors fatal to the well-being of her system. But she has +entered upon a new path, one in which there are indeed _lions upon the +way_; she has advanced freely and boldly through its dangers; her aims +have been generous and sincere; she has given the mature a suggestive +and thoughtful book; and shall we not greet her when she returns with +her hard-won trophies from the mystical land of earth's fair Psyches? + + 'O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee + To temper man; we had been brutes without you! + Angels are painted fair to look like you; + There's in you all that we believe of heaven!' + + + THE HOLY AND PROFANE STATES. By THOMAS FULLER. + With some Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, + Brown & Co. For sale by D. Appleton & Co. + +A book from quaint old Fuller will always find its audience ready to +receive it. It is only by contrasting his works with those of his +contemporaries that we can do him full justice. He was an eminent +historian and divine of the Church of England, in the stormy times of +Charles I. and the Commonwealth. He made his first appearance as an +author in 1631, in a poem entitled 'David's hainous Sin, heartie +Repentance, and heavie Punishment.' He was much beloved in his day, +following faithfully as chaplain the fortunes of the royal army. As a +writer, every subject is alike to him; if dull, he enlivens it; +agreeable, he improves it; deep, he enlightens it; and if tough, +grapples bravely with it. As he was unwilling to go all lengths with +either party, he was abused by both. The storms which convulsed the +Government, had only the effect of throwing him upon his own resources, +and he thus produced the various works which won the admiration of his +contemporaries, and through which he still receives the gratitude of +posterity, keeping his memory still green in our souls. The table of +contents in the present volume is very varied, the chapters are short, +and treat of familiar and home-like topics. + + + FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS: Being an Attempt to Trace to their + Sources Passages and Phrases in Common Use, chiefly from English + Authors. By JOHN BARTLETT. Fourth edition. Boston: Little, + Brown & Co. 1864. + +The compiler of this book says the favor shown to former editions has +encouraged him to go on with the work and make it still more worthy. The +object has been to present the general reader with such quotations as he +would readily recognize as old friends. The index of authors is a wide +one, placing before us at a glance many of the names treasured in our +memories; the index of subjects, alphabetically arranged, covers seventy +closely printed pages, and is exceedingly well ordered. We consider such +books as of great value, planting pregnant thoughts in the soul, and +affording rich illustrations. We cheerfully commend Mr. Bartlett's +excerpts. They are well chosen, and the binding, paper, and print of the +book are admirable. + + + ARNOLD AND ANDRÉ. An Historical Drama. By GEORGE + CALVERT, author of 'Scenes and Thoughts in Europe,' and 'The + Gentleman.' Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864. + +Mr. Calvert says, 'an historical drama being the incarnation--through +the most compact and brilliant literary form--of the spirit of a +national epoch, the dramatic author, in adopting historic personages and +events, is bound to subordinate himself with conscientious faithfulness +to the actuality he attempts to reproduce. His task is, by help of +imaginative power, to give to important conjunctures, and to the +individuals that rule them, a more vivid embodiment than can be given on +the literal page of history--not to transform, but to elevate and +animate an enacted reality, and, by injecting it with poetic rays, to +make it throw out a light whereby its features shall be more visible.' A +just theory and well stated; and in 'Arnold and André,' our author has +subordinated himself with conscientious faithfulness to historic truth, +and is always correct and dignified; but the imaginative gift of deep +insight is wanting, and the fire of genius kindles not the heart of the +stately record to reveal its hidden power and pathos. + + + HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE. By CHARLES + MERIVALE, B.D., late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. + From the fourth London edition. With a copious Analytical Index. + Vol. III. New York: D. Appleton & Co., Broadway. + +Merivale's third volume commences with the proceedings upon the death of +Cæsar, and concludes with the Imperial Administration, thus containing +one of the most interesting and important periods of Roman history. +Antonius, Octavius, Cicero, Cleopatra, Octavia, Cæsarion, Herod, +Antipater, Mariamne, Agrippa, etc., make part of the brilliant array +rekindled before us. We have no doubt that the readers of ancient +history will gladly avail themselves of the opportunity to possess +themselves of Merivale's work. + + + SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF JEREMY TAYLOR. With some + Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. + 1864. + +Bishop Heber says, when speaking of the three great English divines, +'Hooker is the object of our reverence. Barrow of our admiration, and +Jeremy Taylor of our love.' Taylor was a man of devout and glowing soul, +of imaginative genius, so that, whatever may have been the prejudices of +his times, the restrictions of his creed, his thoughts are still fresh +and captivating, his quaint pages full of interest. He loved his Master, +and his love glows through much of his writing. + +He was an accomplished scholar, and in spite of his contests with +'Papists,' a kindhearted man. His biographer says: 'To sum up all in a +few words, this great prelate had the good humor of a gentleman, the +eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a +schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a +chancellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and the +piety of a saint, devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for a +university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi.' + +These selections are judiciously made, and will commend themselves to +all readers of taste. It is a good sign to see Jeremy Taylor and old +Fuller reappearing among us. + + + POEMS. By FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN. Boston: + Ticknor & Fields. 1864. + +Mr. Tuckerman has given us a volume of philosophically thought, tenderly +and purely felt, and musically rhythmed poems. No roughness disfigures, +no sensualism blights, no straining for effect chills, no meretricious +ornament destroys them. The ideas are grave and tender, the diction +scholarly, and if the fire and passion of genius flame not through them, +they seem to have been the natural growth of a heart + + 'Hearing oftentimes + The still sad music of humanity.' + + + THOUGHTS ON PERSONAL RELIGION. Being a Treatise on the + Christian Life, in its two Chief Elements, Devotion and Practice. + By EDWARD MEYRICK GOULBURN, D. D., Prebendary of St. + Paul's, Chaplain to the Bishop of Oxford, and one of her Majesty's + Chaplains in Ordinary. First American, from the fifth London + edition. With a Prefatory Note, by George H. Houghton, D.D., Rector + of the Church of the Transfiguration, in the City of New York. New + York: D. Appleton & Co., 443 and 445 Broadway. 1864. + +This is, in the main, an excellent work on practical religion. From its +fervent spirit and sound common sense, it came very near being such a +one as we could have recommended for the perusal and attentive study of +the great body of Christians in our country. Unfortunately, the author, +by sundry flings at other Christian communities, and by the use of +nicknames, as Quaker, Romanist, Dissenter, etc., in speaking of them, +has restricted its usefulness chiefly to the members of his own +communion, the Protestant Episcopal Church. To such, it will doubtless +prove highly satisfactory and beneficial. A very few omissions would +have procured for it the wide range of acceptance and power of working +good to which its intrinsic excellence would then have entitled it. When +will our religious writers learn that the great battle now is not among +the various sections of the Christian camp, but with an outside enemy, +indefatigable, learned, plausible, and every day gaining ground? Who can +tell but that a careful examination of, and more accurate acquaintance +with the principles and practice of divisions serving under the same +great Captain, might dissipate many a prejudice, and reconcile many a +difficulty? One of the first requisites is, that all learn _to know_ and +_to speak_ the truth about one another. + + + THE SPIRIT OF THE FAIR. 1864. 'None but the brave deserve + the Fair.' Editorial Committee: Augustus R. Macdonough, _Chairman_; + Mrs. Charles E. Butler, Mrs. Edward Cooper, C. Astor Bristed, + Chester P. Dewey, James W. Gerard, jr., William J. Hoppin, Henry + Sedgwick, Frederick Sheldon, Charles K. Tuckerman. New York: John + F. Trow, Publisher, 50 Greene street. + +In recommending to our readers this neatly bound volume of the daily +product of the great 'Metropolitan Fair,' we cannot do better than +extract the little introductory notice of the publisher, who says: 'By +the request of many patrons of the 'Spirit of the Fair,' the publisher +purchased the stereotype plates and copyrights of the paper, for the +purpose of supplying bound copies for permanent preservation. The +talented ladies and gentlemen who conducted the 'Spirit of the Fair,' +during its brief and brilliant career, have, by their well-directed +efforts, made a volume worthy of preservation, both from its high +literary excellence, and from the recollections with which it is +associated. Its pages are illuminated with the writings of the most +distinguished authors. Every article in the paper first saw the light of +print in the 'Spirit of the Fair.' Poets, Historians, Statesmen, +Novelists, and Essayists furnished contributions prepared expressly for +its columns; and their efforts in behalf of the noble charity which the +paper represented, should alone entitle the volume to be cherished as a +most valued memento and heirloom. + +'The publisher, therefore, presents this volume to the public, in the +hope that it will not only gratify the reader of the present, but that +it will assist to preserve the 'Spirit of the Fair' for the reader of +the future.' + + + THE LITTLE REBEL. Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1864. For + sale by Hurd & Houghton, New York. + +A very interesting book for the little ones. It presents vivid pictures +of New England life, and is fragrant and dewy with fresh breezes from +the maple bush, the hillside, and the pasture lands. The style is +excellent, and the matter as sprightly and entertaining as it is simply +natural and morally improving. + + + THE POET, AND OTHER POEMS. By ACHSA W. SPRAGUE. + Boston: William White & Co., 158 Washington street. For sale by A. + J. Davis, New York. + +'Miss Sprague was chiefly known to the world as a trance lecturer under +what claimed to be spirit influence. Although speaking in the interest +of a faith generally unpopular, and involved in no slight degree in +crudities, extravagance, and quackery, she was herself neither fool nor +fanatic. She was a true child of nature, direct and simple in her +manners, and impatient of the artificiality and formal etiquette of +fashionable society.' These poems are characterized by great case of +style, flowing rhythm, earnestness in the cause of philanthropy, and +frequently contain high moral lessons. But it is somewhat strange that +the poems of trance writers and speakers, so often marked by exquisite, +varied, and delicate chimes of ringing rhythm, of brilliant words, of +sparkling poetic dust blown from the pages of great writers, and +drifting through the world, should so seldom give us those great granite +blocks of originality, which must constitute the enduring base for the +new era therein announced. Is there nothing new in the world beyond the +grave which they deem open to their vision? We ask this in no spirit of +censure or cavil, for we have no prejudice against the school of +spiritualistic literature, save where it militates against the faith in +our Redeemer. + +INDEX TO VOLUME VI. + + + + A Castle in the Air. By E. Foxton, 272 + + Ænone; a Tale of Slave Life in Rome, 10, 149, 254, 408, 519, 610 + + A Glance at Prussian Politics. By Charles + M. Mead, 261, 383 + + A Great Social Problem. By G. U., 441 + + American Civilization. By Lieut. Egbert + Phelps, U. S. A., 102 + + American Slavery and Finances. By Hon. + Robert J. Walker, 22 + + American Women. By Mrs. Virginia Sherwood, 416 + + An Army: Its Organization and Movements. + By Lieut.-Col. C. W. Tolles, A. Q. M., 1, 223, 330, 601 + + A Sigh. By Virginia Vaughan, 355 + + A Wren's Song, 434 + + Aphorisms, 78, 83, 134, 222, 260, 414, 444, 609, 663 + + Asleep, 270 + + Averill's Raid. By Alfred B. Street, 326 + + Battle of the Wilderness. By E. A. Warriner, 207 + + Buckle, Draper: Church and Estate. By Edward + B. Freeland, 55 + + Buried Alive. A Dirge. By Martha Walker + Cook, 189 + + Causes of the Minnesota Massacre. By January + Searle, 174 + + Church Music. By Lucia D. Pychowska, 112 + + Colors and their Meaning. By Mrs. M. E. G. + Gage, 199 + + Coming Up at Shiloh, 399 + + 'Cor Unum, Via Una.' God Bless our Native + Land! 716 + + Creation. By Charles E. Townsend, 531 + + Death in Life. By Edwin R. Johnson, 516 + + Docs the Moon Revolve on its Axis? By + Charles E. Townsend, 380 + + Editor's Table, 238, 478, 711 + + Excuse. By Kate Putnam, 415 + + Flower Odors, 469 + + Fly Leaves from the Life of a Soldier, 289, 534 + + Genius, By Richard Bowen, 705 + + James Fenimore Cooper on Secession and + State Rights. By Charles K. Tuckerman, 79 + + Letter of Hon. R. J. Walker, in favor of the + Reëlection of Abraham Lincoln, Sept. + 30, 1864, London, 686 + + Life on a Blockader. By the Author of 'The + Last Cruise of the Monitor, 46 + + Literary Notices, 116, 232, 359, 475, 706 + + Locomotion. By David M. Balfour, 472 + + Lois Pearl Berkeley. By Margaret Vane + Hastings 552 + + Longing. From Schlegel, 454 + + Look-Out Mountain. By Alfred B. Street, 65 + + Lunar Characteristics. By Charles E. Townsend, 381 + + Miracles. By Rev. Asa L. Colton, 685 + + Negro Troops. By Henry Everett Russell, 191 + + Observations of the Sun. By Charles E. + Townsend, 328 + + One Night. By Julius Wilcox, 67 + + On Hearing a 'Trio.' By Mary Freeman + Goldbeck, 650 + + Our Domestic Affairs. By George Wurts, 241 + + Our Great America. By January Searle, 445 + + Our Martyrs. By Kate Putnam, 147 + + Phenomena of Haze, Fogs, and Clouds. By + Charles E. Townsend, 533 + + Proverbs. By E. B. C., 371 + + Recognition. By Virginia Vaughan, 88 + + Self-Sacrifice. Analect from Richter, 632 + + Shanghai: Its Streets, Shops, and People. + By Henry B. Auchincloss, 633 + + Sketches of American Life and Scenery. By + Lucia D. Pychowska, 544, 664 + + Some Uses of a Civil War. By Hugh Miller + Thompson, 361 + + Sound Reflections. By E. B. C., 314 + + Streck-Verse. By E. B. C., 298 + + Tardy Truths. By H. K. Kalussowski, 209 + + The Antiquity of Man. A Philosophic Debate. + By William Henderson, 356 + + The Constitutional Amendment. By Henry + Everett Russell, 135 + + The Cross. By E. Foxton, 34 + + The Danish Sailor. By G. T. M., 99 + + The Devil's Cañon in California. By Henry + B. Auchincloss, 280 + + The English Press. By Nicholas Rowe, + London, 36, 135 + + The Esthetics of the Root of All Evil. By + George P. Upton, 677 + + The First Christian Emperor. By Rev. Dr. + Philip Schaff, 161 + + The First Fanatic. By Fanny L. Glenfield, 543 + + The Ideal Man for Universal Imitation; or, + The Sinless Perfection of Jesus. By + Rev. Dr. Philip Schaff, 651 + + The Lesson of the Hour. By Edward Sprague + Rand, 455 + + The North Carolina Conscript. By Isabella + McFarland, 379 + + The Progress of Liberty in the United States. + By Rev. A. D. Mayo, 481 + + The Resurrection Flower. By M. E. Dodge, 84 + + The Sacrifice. By S. J. Bates, 296 + + The Scientific Universal Language; Its + Character and Relation to other Languages. + By Edward B. Freeland, 456, 572 + + The Seven-Hundredth Birthday of a German + Capital. By Prof. Andrew Ten + Brook, 89 + + The Two Platforms. By Henry Everett + Russell, 587 + + The Undivine Comedy. A Polish Drama. + By Count Sigismund Krasinski. Translated + by Martha Walker Cook, 298, 372, 497, 623 + + The Vision. By George B. Peck, 620 + + Tidings of Victory. By C. L. P., 676 + + Violations of Literary Property. The Federalist--Life + and Character of John Jay. + By Henry T. Tuckerman, 336 + + Who Knows? By Edwin R. Johnson, 358 + + Word-Stilts. By William Wirt Sikes, 439 + + 'Ye Know Not What Ye Ask.' By Fanny + L. Glenfield, 398 + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, +July, 1864, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 20481-8.txt or 20481-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/8/20481/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, July, 1864 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 29, 2007 [EBook #20481] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h1>CONTINENTAL MONTHLY:</h1> + +<h4>DEVOTED TO</h4> + +<h2>Literature and National Policy.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>VOL. VI.—JULY, 1864—NO. I.</h3> + + + +<p class='center'>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by<br /> +In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the +Southern District of New York.<br /><br /> +New York:<br /> +(FOR THE PROPRIETORS.)<br /> + JOHN F. TROW,<br /> + PRINTER, STEREOTYPER, AND ELECTROTYPER.<br /> + 50 Greene street, New York.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<div class="trans-note"> + Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected. All other +inconstencies in spelling or punctuation are as in the original. + </div> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#AN_ARMY_ITS_ORGANIZATION_AND_MOVEMENTS">AN ARMY: ITS ORGANIZATION AND MOVEMENTS.—SECOND PAPER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#AENONE">ÆNONE:</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></span></td></tr> + + +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#AMERICAN_SLAVERY_AND_FINANCES">AMERICAN SLAVERY AND FINANCES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CROSS">THE CROSS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ENGLISH_PRESS">THE ENGLISH PRESS.—IV.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LIFE_ON_A_BLOCKADER">LIFE ON A BLOCKADER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BUCKLE_DRAPER_CHURCH_AND_STATE">BUCKLE, DRAPER; CHURCH AND STATE.—FOURTH PAPER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LOOKOUT_MOUNTAIN">LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ONE_NIGHT">ONE NIGHT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#I">CHAPTER I.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#II">CHAPTER II.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#III">CHAPTER III.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></span></td></tr> + + +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#APHORISM_NO_VII">APHORISM.—NO. VII.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#JAMES_FENIMORE_COOPER_ON_SECESSION_AND_STATE_RIGHTS">JAMES FENIMORE COOPER ON SECESSION AND STATE RIGHTS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#APHORISMS_NO_VIII">APHORISMS.—NO. VIII.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_RESURRECTION_FLOWER">THE RESURRECTION FLOWER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#RECOGNITION">RECOGNITION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SEVEN-HUNDREDTH_BIRTHDAY_OF_A_GERMAN_CAPITAL">THE SEVEN-HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF A GERMAN CAPITAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_DANISH_SAILOR">THE DANISH SAILOR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#AMERICAN_CIVILIZATION">AMERICAN CIVILIZATION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHURCH_MUSIC">CHURCH MUSIC.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#APHORISM_NO_IX">APHORISM.—NO. IX.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LITERARY_NOTICES">LITERARY NOTICES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#INDEX">INDEX TO VOLUME VI.</a></td></tr> + +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_ARMY_ITS_ORGANIZATION_AND_MOVEMENTS" id="AN_ARMY_ITS_ORGANIZATION_AND_MOVEMENTS"></a>AN ARMY: ITS ORGANIZATION AND MOVEMENTS.</h2> + +<h3><i>SECOND PAPER.</i></h3> + + +<p>Having, in the preceding paper, described the general organization<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of +an army, we proceed to give a succinct account of some of the principal +staff departments, in their relations to the troops.</p> + +<p>Army organization—notwithstanding the world has always been engaged in +military enterprises—is of comparatively recent institution. Many of +the principles of existing military systems date no farther back than to +Frederic the Great, of Prussia, and many were originated by Napoleon. +Staff departments, particularly, as now constituted, are of late origin. +The staff organization is undergoing constant changes. Its most improved +form is to be found in France and Prussia. Our own staff system is of a +composite, and, in some respects, heterogeneous character—not having +been, constructed on any regular plan, but built up by gradual +accretions and imitations of European features, from the time of our +Revolution till the present. It has, however, worked with great vigor +and efficiency.</p> + +<p>The staff of any commander is usually spoken of in two classes—the +departmental and the personal—the latter including the aides-de-camp, +who pertain more particularly to the person of the commander, while the +former belong to the organization. Of the departmental staff, the +assistant adjutant-generals and assistant inspector-generals are +denominated the 'general staff,' because their functions extend through +all branches of the organization, while the other officers are confined +exclusively to their own departments.</p> + +<p>The <i>chief of staff</i> is a recent French imitation. The first officer +assigned in that capacity was General Marcy, on the staff of General +McClellan, in the fall of 1861. Previous to that time the officers of +the adjutant-general's department—on account of their intimate +relations with commanding officers, as their official organs and the +mediums through which all orders were transmitted—had occupied it. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>duties of these officers, however, being chiefly of a bureau character, +allowing them little opportunity for active external supervision, it has +been deemed necessary to select for heads of the staffs, officers +particularly qualified to assist the commander in devising strategical +plans, organizing, and moving troops, etc.; competent to oversee and +direct the proceedings of the various staff departments; untrammelled +with any exclusive routine of duty, and able in any emergency, when the +commander may be absent, to give necessary orders. For these reasons, +although the innovation has not been sanctioned by any law, or any +standing rule of the War Department, and although its propriety is +discussed by many, the custom of assigning officers as chiefs of staff +has become universal, and will probably be permanent. The extent and +character of their duties depend, however, upon themselves, being +regulated by no orders, and the high responsibilities attached to the +position in France have not thus far been assumed by the officers +occupying it here. In the French service, the chief of staff is the +actual as well as the nominal head of the organization; he supervises +all its operations; he is the <i>alter ego</i> of the commander. In the +Waterloo campaign, for instance, Marshal Soult was the chief of +Napoleon's staff, and the emperor attributed his disaster, in part, to +some of the orders issued by the marshal.</p> + +<p>Our limits will not permit a description of the duties pertaining to the +various members of the staff, but we pass to the consideration of those +departments, the operations of which most directly affect the soldier, +are indispensable to every army, and are most interesting to the public.</p> + +<p>Let us first consider the <i>quartermaster's department</i>, which, from the +character and diversity of its duties, the amount of its expenditures, +and its influence upon military operations, may be ranked as among the +most important. This department provides clothing, camp and garrison +equipage, animals and transportation of all kinds, fuel, forage, straw, +and stationery, an immense variety of the miscellaneous materials +required by an army, and for a vast amount of miscellaneous +expenditures. It is, in fact, the great business operator of a military +organization. In an active army, the success of movements depends very +much on its efficiency. Unless the troops are kept properly clothed, the +animals and means of transportation maintained in good condition, and +the immense trains moved with regularity and promptness, the best +contrived plans will fail in their development and execution.</p> + +<p>The department, at the commencement of the war, had supplies in store +only for the current uses of the regular army. When the volunteer forces +were organized it became necessary to make hasty contracts and purchases +to a large amount; but as even the best-informed members of the +Government had no adequate prevision of the extent and duration of the +war, and of the necessary arrangements for its demands, a considerable +period elapsed before a sufficient quantity of the required materials +could be accumulated. Those were the days of 'shoddy' cloth and spavined +horses. The department, however, exhibited great administrative energy, +under the direction of its able head, General M. C. Meigs, and has amply +provided for the enormous demands upon it.</p> + +<p>Depots for the reception of supplies are established in the large +cities, whence they are transferred as required to the great issuing +depots near the active armies, and from them to the depots in the field. +Thus, the main depots of the Army of the Potomac are at Washington and +Alexandria—a field depot being established at its centre, when lying +for any length of time in camp. Only current supplies are kept on hand +at the latter, and no surplus is transported on the march, except the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +required amounts of subsistence and forage.</p> + +<p>A great deal is said in connection with military movements, of 'bases of +operation.' These are the points in the rear of an army from which it +receives supplies and reënforcements, and with which its communications +must at all hazards be kept open, except it has means of transportation +sufficient to render it independent of its depots for a considerable +period, or unless the country traversed is able to afford subsistence +for men and animals. When an army marches along a navigable river, its +secondary base becomes movable, and it is less confined to the necessity +of protecting its rear. In Virginia, however, the connection of the Army +of the Potomac with Washington is imperative, and this fact explains the +contracted sphere of the operations of that army.</p> + +<p>The transportation of supplies is limited by the ability of the +Government to provide trains, and by the ability of the army to protect +them; for large trains create large drafts on the troops for teamsters, +pioneers, guards, etc. An army train, upon the most limited allowance +compatible with freedom of operations for a few days, away from the +depots, is an immense affair. Under the existing allowances in the Army +of the Potomac, a corps of thirty thousand infantry has about seven +hundred wagons, drawn by four thousand two hundred mules; the horses of +officers and of the artillery will bring the number of animals to be +provided for up to about seven thousand. On the march it is calculated +that each wagon will occupy about eighty feet—in bad roads much more; +consequently a train of seven hundred wagons will cover fifty-six +thousand feet of road—or over ten miles; the ambulances of a corps will +occupy about a mile, and the batteries about three miles; thirty +thousand troops need six miles to march in, if they form but one column; +the total length of the marching column of a corps is therefore <i>twenty +miles</i>, even without including the cattle herds and trains of bridge +material. Readers who have been accustomed to think that our armies have +not exhibited sufficient energy in surmounting the obstacles of bad +roads, unbridged streams, etc., will be able to estimate, upon the above +statements, the immense difficulty of moving trains and artillery. The +trains of an army have been properly denominated its <i>impedimenta</i>, and +their movement and protection is one of the most difficult incidental +operations of warfare—particularly in a country like Virginia, where +the art of road making has attained no high degree of perfection, and +where the forests swarm with guerillas.</p> + +<p>To an unaccustomed observer the concourse of the trains of an army, in +connection with any rapid movement, would give the idea of inextricable +confusion. It is of course necessary to move them upon as many different +roads as possible, but it will frequently happen that they must be +concentrated in a small space, and move in a small number of columns. +During the celebrated 'change of base' from Richmond to Harrison's +Landing, the trains were at first obliged to move upon only one +road—across White Oak Swamp—which happened fortunately to be wide +enough for three wagons to go abreast. There were perhaps twenty-five +hundred vehicles, which would make a continuous line of some forty or +fifty miles. While the slow and toilsome course of this cumbrous column +was proceeding, the troops were obliged to remain in the rear and fight +the battles of Savage Station and White Oak Swamp for its protection. A +similar situation of trains occurred last fall when General Meade +retired from the Rappahannock, but fortunately the country presented +several practicable routes. It is on a retreat, particularly, that the +difficulty of moving trains is experienced, and thousands of lives and +much valuable material have been lost by the neglect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> of commanding +officers to place them sufficiently far in the rear during a battle, so +as to permit the troops to fall back when necessary, without +interruption.</p> + +<p>A march being ordered, supplies according to the capacity of the trains, +are directed to be carried. The present capacity of the trams of the +Army of the Potomac is ten days' subsistence and forage, and sixty +rounds of small-arm ammunition—the men carrying in addition a number of +days' rations, and a number of rounds, upon their persons. When the +wagons reach camp each evening, such supplies as have been expended are +replenished from them. As a general rule the baggage wagons camp every +night with the troops, but the exigencies are sometimes such that +officers are compelled to deny themselves for one or even two weeks the +luxury of a change of clothing—the wagons not reaching camp, perhaps, +till after midnight, and the troops resuming their march an hour or two +afterward. Those who indulge in satires upon the wearers of shoulder +straps would be likely to form a more correct judgment of an officer's +position and its attendant hardships, could they see him at the close of +a fortnight's campaign. Like the soldier, he can rely on nothing for +food or clothing except what is carried by himself, unless he maintains +a servant, and the latter will find a few blankets, a coffee pot, some +crackers, meat, sugar, coffee, etc., for his own and his employer's +consumption, a sufficient burden.</p> + +<p>Let us see how the supplies of the quartermaster's department are +distributed.</p> + +<p>At stated periods, if circumstances permit—usually at the first of each +month—the regimental quartermasters, after consultation with the +company officers, forward through their superiors to the chief +quartermasters of corps, statements of the articles required by the men. +These are consolidated and presented to the chief quartermaster of the +army, who orders them from Washington, and issues them from the army +depot—the whole operation requiring about a week. The number of +different <i>kinds</i> of articles thus drawn monthly is about five hundred; +the <i>quantity</i> of each kind depends on the number of men to be supplied, +and the nature of the service performed since the previous issue. If +there has been much marching, there will be a great demand for shoes; if +a battle, large quantities of all kinds of articles to replace those +lost on the battle field will be required.</p> + +<p>An infantry soldier is allowed the following principal articles of +clothing during a three years' term of service:</p> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="45%" cellspacing="0" summary="Principal articles of +soldiers clothing"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><th align='right'><i>1st Year.</i></th><th align='right'><i>2d Year.</i></th><th align='right'><i>3d Year.</i></th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cap,</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Coat,</td><td align='right'>2</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>2</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Trowsers,</td><td align='right'>3</td><td align='right'>2</td><td align='right'>3</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Flannel shirt,</td><td align='right'>3</td><td align='right'>3</td><td align='right'>3</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drawers,</td><td align='right'>3</td><td align='right'>2</td><td align='right'>2</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Shoes,</td><td align='right'>4</td><td align='right'>4</td><td align='right'>4</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Stockings,</td><td align='right'>4</td><td align='right'>4</td><td align='right'>4</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Overcoat,</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>0</td><td align='right'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Blanket,</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>0</td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Indiarubber blanket,</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>1</td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>The prices of these are stated each year in a circular from the +department, and, as the soldier draws them, his captain charges him with +the prices on the company books. The paymaster deducts from his pay any +excess which he may have drawn, or allows him if he has drawn less than +he is entitled to. The clothing is much cheaper than articles of the +same quality at home. Thus, according to the present prices, a coat +costs $7.30; overcoat, $7.50; trowsers, $2.70; flannel shirt, $1.53; +stockings, 32 cents; shoes, $2.05.</p> + +<p>The <i>commissary department</i> provides exclusively the subsistence of the +troops. Each soldier is entitled to the following daily ration:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or one pound four ounces of fresh +beef.</p> + +<p>One pound six ounces of soft bread or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> flour, or one pound of hard +bread, or one pound four ounces of corn meal.</p> + +<p>To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of beans or peas, and ten +pounds of rice or hominy.</p> + +<p>To every one hundred men, ten pounds of green coffee, or eight +pounds of roasted, or one pound and eight ounces of tea.</p> + +<p>To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of sugar, four quarts of +vinegar, one pound four ounces of candles, four pounds of soap, +three pounds twelve ounces of salt, four ounces of pepper, thirty +pounds of potatoes, when practicable, and one quart of molasses.</p> + +<p>Fresh onions, beets, carrots, and turnips, when on hand, can be +issued in place of beans, peas, rice, or hominy, if the men desire.</p> + +<p>They can also take in place of any part of the ration an amount +equal in value of dried apples, dried peaches, pickles, etc., when +on hand.</p></div> + +<p>A whiskey ration of a gill per day per man can be issued on the order of +the commander, in cases of extra hardship. It is, however, rarely +issued, on account of the difficulty of finding room for its +transportation in any considerable quantities. Moreover, whiskey, in the +army, is subject to extraordinary and mysterious <i>leakages</i>, and an +issue can scarcely be made with such care that some drunkenness will not +ensue. When lying in camp, sutlers and others sell to the soldiers +contrary to law, so that old topers usually find methods of gratifying +their appetites—sometimes sacrificing a large proportion of their pay +to the villains who pander to them. The utmost vigilance of the officers +fails to detect the methods by which liquor is introduced into the army. +When a cask is broached in any secluded place, the intelligence seems +communicated by a pervading electrical current, and the men are seized +with a universal desire to leave camp for the purpose of washing, or +getting wood, or taking a walk, or other praise-worthy purposes.</p> + +<p>The total weight of a ration is something over two pounds, but in +marching, some articles are omitted, and but a small quantity of salt +meat is carried—fresh beef being supplied from the herds of cattle +driven with the army. A bullock will afford about four hundred and fifty +rations, so that an army of one hundred thousand men needs over two +hundred cattle daily for its supply.</p> + +<p>In camp the men can refrain from drawing portions of their rations, and +the surplus is allowed for by the commissaries in money, by which a +company fund can be created, and expended in the purchase of gloves, +gaiters, etc., or luxuries for the table. A hospital fund is formed in +the same way—by an allowance for the portions of the rations not +consumed by the patients—and is expended in articles adapted to diet +for the sick. The rations are ample and of good quality, though the salt +meat is rather tough occasionally, and the consistency of the hard bread +is shot-proof. Company cooks are allowed, and in camp they contrive to +furnish quite appetizing meals. Their position is rather difficult to +fill, and woe is the portion of the cook not competent for his +profession. The practical annoyances to which he is subject make him +realize to the fullest extent 'the unfathomable depths of human woe.' On +the march the men usually prefer to boil their coffee in tin cups, and +to cook their meat on ram-rods—without waiting for the more formal +movements of the cooks. To reach camp before sunset, after a twenty-mile +march, to pitch his little shelter tent, throw in it his heavy arms and +accoutrements, collect some pine twigs for a couch, wash in some +adjacent stream, drink his cup of hot, strong coffee, eat his salt pork +and hard bread, and then wrap himself in his blanket for a dreamless +slumber, is one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> most delicious combinations of luxurious +enjoyment a soldier knows. To-morrow, perhaps, he starts up at the early +<i>reveille</i>, takes his hasty breakfast, is marshalled into line before +the enemy, there is a shriek in the air rent by the murderous shell, and +the soldier's last march is ended.</p> + +<p>The next department we shall consider is that of <i>ordnance</i>, which +supplies the munitions and portions of accoutrements.</p> + +<p>The subject of <i>artillery</i> is perhaps the most interesting of the great +number connected with warfare. In the popular estimation it overshadows +all others. All the poetry of war celebrates the grandeur of</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Those mortal engines whose rude throats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The thunder of great guns and the dashing of cavalry are the incidents +which spontaneously present themselves to the mind when a battle is +mentioned. Perhaps the accounts of Waterloo are responsible for this. +The steady fighting of masses of infantry, having less particulars to +attract the imagination, is overlooked; the fact, preëminent above all +others in military science, that it is the infantry which contests and +decides battles, that artillery and cavalry are only subordinate +agencies—is forgotten. So splendid have been the inventions and +achievements of the last few years in respect to artillery, as +illustrated particularly at Charleston, that some excuse may easily be +found for the popular misconception. A few remarks presenting some +truths relative to the appropriate sphere of artillery and its powers, +and stating succinctly the results which have been accomplished, may be +found interesting.</p> + +<p>Without entering into the history of artillery, it will be sufficient to +state that the peculiar distinguishing excellence of modern improvements +in cannon is the attainment of superior efficiency, accuracy, and +mobility, with a decrease in weight of metal. A gun of any given size is +now many times superior to one of the same size in use fifty or a +hundred years ago. It is not so much in <i>big guns</i> that we excel our +predecessors—for there are many specimens of old cannon of great +dimensions; but by our advance in science we are able so to shape our +guns and our projectiles that with less weight of material we can throw +larger shot to a greater distance and with more accuracy. A long course +of mathematical experiment and calculation has determined the exact +pressure of a charge of powder at all points in the bore of a cannon +during its combustion and evolution into gas. These experiments have +proved that strength is principally required near the breech, and that a +cannon need not be of so great length as was formerly supposed to be +necessary. We are thus able to construct guns which can be handled, +throwing balls of several hundred pounds' weight. Another splendid +result of scientific investigation is the method adopted for casting +such monster guns. In order that the mass of metal may be of uniform +tenacity and character, it should cool equably. This has been secured by +a plan for introducing a stream of water through the core of the +casting, so that the metal cools both within and without simultaneously.</p> + +<p>About the time that the Italian war commenced, the subject of rifled +cannon excited much popular interest. Exaggerated expectations were +formed of the changes to be produced by them in the art of warfare. Many +saw in them the means of abolishing war entirely. Of what use is it, +they said, to array armies against each other, if they can be destroyed +at two or three miles' distance? At the commencement of our own contest +there was an undue partiality for rifled ordnance. Almost every +commander of a battery desired to have rifled guns. The more correct +views of the thoroughly accomplished artillery officers to whom was +confided<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> the arrangement of this branch of the service, and actual +experience, have dissipated the unfounded estimate of their utility for +field service, and established the proper proportions in an artillery +force which they should compose. It has been ascertained that fighting +will never be confined to long ranges—that guns which can throw large +volumes of spherical case and canister into lines only a few hundred +yards distant are as necessary as ever.</p> + +<p>The necessity for rifled cannon arose from the perfection of rifled +muskets. When these arms reached such a degree of excellence that horses +and gunners could be shot down at a distance of one thousand yards, the +old-fashioned smooth-bore artillery was deprived of its prestige. To +retrieve this disadvantage and restore the superiority of artillery over +musketry in length of range, methods of rifling cannon for field service +became an important study. For assailing distant lines of troops, for +opening a battle, for dispersing bodies of cavalry, for shelling +intrenchments, for firing over troops from hills in their rear, rifled +guns are of invaluable service. But, notwithstanding troops are now +universally armed with muskets of long range, no battle of importance is +fought without close engagements of the lines. The alternate advances +and retreats of the infantry, firing at distances of less than one +hundred yards, charging with fixed bayonets and frantic shouts, will +always characterize any battle fought with vigor and enthusiasm. In such +conflicts, wide-mouthed smooth bores, belching their torrents of iron, +must play a conspicuous part.</p> + +<p>Another fact, which will perhaps surprise the general reader, is that +the form and character of <i>projectiles</i> have been matters of as much +difficulty, have received as much investigation, and are of as much +importance, as the shape and character of the guns. In fact, rifled +pieces would be comparatively ineffective except projectiles adapted to +them had been invented. It was necessary that projectiles of greater +weight, of less resistance to the atmosphere, and of more accuracy of +flight, than the old round shot, should be introduced. To accomplish +these ends several things were necessary: 1st, the projectiles should be +elongated; 2d, they should have conical points; 3d, the centre of +gravity should be at a proper distance in front of the centre; 4th, +there should be methods of <i>steering</i> them so that they should always go +point foremost through the whole curve of their flight; 5th, they should +fit the gun so as to take the rifles, yet not so closely as to strain +it. To attain these and other requisites, innumerable plans have been +devised. The projectile offering the best normal conditions is the +<i>arrow</i>; it has length, a sharp point, centre of gravity near the head, +and feathers for guiding it (sometimes so arranged that it shall rotate +like a rifled ball). Improved projectiles, therefore, both for muskets +and cannon, correspond in these essentials to the first products of man +in the savage state.</p> + +<p>We cannot, in this article, further discuss either such general +principles or those of a more abstruse character, in their application +to artillery, but will briefly state a few facts relative to its +employment—confining ourselves exclusively to the <i>field service</i>.</p> + +<p>The guns now principally used for battles, in the Northern armies, are +10 and 12-pounder Parrotts, three-inch United States rifles, and light +12-pounder smooth bores. The distinguishing characteristic of the +Parrott guns is lightness of construction, secured by strengthening the +breech (in accordance with the principles mentioned a few paragraphs +back) with a band of wrought iron. This has been applied to guns of all +sizes, and its excellence has been tested by General Gillmore in the +reduction of Forts Pulaski and Sumter. The three-inch guns are made of +wrought iron, are of light weight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> but exceedingly tenacious and +accurate. The 12-pounders, sometimes called Napoleons, are of bronze, +with large caliber, and used chiefly for throwing shell and canister at +comparatively short distances.</p> + +<p>The greatest artillery conflict of the war (in the field) occurred at +Gettysburg. For two hours in the afternoon of the memorable third day's +battle, about four hundred cannon were filling the heavens with their +thunder, and sending their volleys of death crashing in all directions.</p> + +<p>It was estimated that the discharges numbered five or six a second; in +fact, the ear could hardly detect any cessations in the roar. The air +was constantly howling as the shells swept through it, while the falling +of branches, cut from the trees by the furious missiles, seemed as if a +tornado was in the height of its fury: every few minutes, a thunder +heard above all other sounds, denoted the explosion of a caisson, +sweeping into destruction, with a cataract of fire and iron, men and +animals for hundreds of feet around it. The effect of such a fire of +artillery is, however, much less deadly than any except those who have +been subject to it can believe. The prevalent impression concerning the +relative destructiveness of cannon and musketry is another instance of +popular error. In the first place, all firing at over a mile distance +contains a large proportion of the elements of chance, for it is +impossible to get the range and to time the fuses so accurately as to +make any considerable percentage of the shots effective; and in the next +place, except when marching to a close conflict, the men are generally +protected by lying down behind inequalities of the ground, or other +accidental or designed defences. The proportion killed in any battle by +artillery fire is very small. Lines of men frequently lie exposed to +constant shelling for hours, with small loss; in fact, in such cases, +old soldiers will eat their rations, or smoke their pipes, or perhaps +have a game of poker, with great equanimity.</p> + +<p>No portion of the military service has been more misrepresented than the +<i>medical department</i>. An opinion seems to prevail quite extensively that +the army surgeon is generally a young graduate, vain of his official +position, who cares little for the health of the soldier, and glories in +the opportunities afforded by a battle for reckless operations. Such an +opinion is altogether fallacious. In the regiments there are undoubtedly +many physicians who have adopted the service as a resource for a living +which they were unable to find at home, but the majority are exactly the +same class of professional men as those who pursue useful and honorable +careers in all our cities and villages. When a physician is called upon +at home, it happens in a majority of cases—as every honest member of +the profession will admit—that there is little or no necessity for his +services. Too sagacious to avow this, he gravely makes some simple +prescription, and as gravely pockets his fee. In camp, however, the +potent argument of the fee does not prevail, and men who run to the +doctor with trifling ailments, by which they hope to be relieved from +duty, receive a rebuff instead of a pill. They instantly write letters +complaining of his inhumanity. In regard to operations, it is a frequent +remark by the most experienced surgeons that lives are lost from the +hesitancy to amputate, more frequently than limbs are removed +unnecessarily.</p> + +<p>The medical department of an army, like every other, is controlled by a +<i>system</i>, and it is this which regulates its connections with the +soldier more than the qualifications of individual surgeons. In the army +the <i>system</i> takes care of everything, even to the minutest details. +Hygienic regulations for preserving the salubrity of camps and the +cleanliness of the troops and their tents, are prescribed and enforced. +Every day there is a 'sick call' at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> which men who find themselves ill +present themselves to the surgeons for treatment. If slightly affected, +they are taken care of in their own quarters; if more seriously, in the +regimental hospitals; if still more so, in the large hospitals +established by the chief medical officer of the corps; and if necessary, +sent to the Government hospitals established at various places in the +country. To the latter almost all the sick are transferred previous to a +march. To be ill in the army, amid the constant noises of a camp, and +with the non-luxurious appliances of a field hospital, is no very +pleasant matter; but the sick soldier receives all the attention and +accommodation possible under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>To every corps is attached a train of ambulances, in the proportion of +two or three to a regiment. They are spring wagons with seats along the +sides, like an omnibus, which can, when necessary, be made to form a bed +for two or three persons. With each train is a number of wagons, +carrying tents, beds, medicine chests, etc., required for the +establishment of hospitals. On the march, the ambulances collect the +sick and exhausted who fall out from the columns and have a surgeon's +certificate as to their condition. When a battle is impending, and the +field of conflict fixed, the chief medical officers of the corps take +possession of houses and barns in the rear, collect hay and straw for +bedding, or, if more convenient, pitch the tents at proper localities. A +detail of surgeons is made to give the necessary attendance. While the +battle proceeds, the lightly wounded fall to the rear, and are there +temporarily treated by the surgeons who have accompanied the troops to +the field, and then find their way to the hospitals. If the fighting has +passed beyond the places where lie the more dangerously wounded, they +are brought to the rear by the 'stretcher bearers' attached to the +ambulance trains, and carried to the hospitals in the ambulances. +Sometimes it happens that the strife will rage for hours on nearly the +same spot, and it may be night before the 'stretcher bearers' can go out +and collect the wounded. But the surgeons make indefatigable exertions, +often exposed to great danger, to give their attention to those who +require it. At the best, war is terrible—all its 'pomp, pride, and +circumstance' disappear in the view of the wounded and dead on the +field, and of the mangled remnants of humanity in the hospitals. But +everything that can be devised and applied to mitigate its horrors is +provided under the systematized organization of the medical department. +In the Army of the Potomac, at least, and undoubtedly in all the other +armies of the North, that department combines skill, vigor, humanity, +and efficiency to an astonishing degree. Its results are exhibited not +only in the small mortality of the camps, but in the celerity of its +operation on the field of battle, and the great proportion of lives +preserved after the terrible wounds inflicted by deadly fragments of +shell and the still more deadly rifle bullet. Military surgery has +attained a degree of proficiency during the experiences of the past +three years which a layman cannot adequately describe; its results are, +however, palpable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Since that article was written, some changes of detail have +been made, but the principles remain the same.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AENONE" id="AENONE"></a>ÆNONE:</h2> + +<h3>A TALE OF SLAVE LIFE IN ROME.</h3> + + +<h4><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> + +<p>Raising himself with an assumed air of careless indifference, in the +hope of thereby concealing the momentary weakness into which his better +feelings had so nearly betrayed him, Sergius strolled off, humming a +Gallic wine song. Ænone also rose; and, struggling to stifle her +emotion, confronted the new comer.</p> + +<p>She, upon her part, stood silent and impassive, appearing to have heard +or seen nothing of what had transpired, and to have no thought in her +mind except the desire of fulfilling the duty which had brought her +thither. But Ænone knew that the most unobservant person, upon entering, +could not have failed at a glance to comprehend the whole import of the +scene—and that therefore any such studied pretence of ignorance was +superfluous. The attitude of the parties, the ill-disguised confusion of +Sergius, her own tears, which could not be at once entirely +repressed—all combined to tell a tale of recrimination, pleading, and +baffled confidence, as plainly as words could have spoken it. Apart, +therefore, from her disappointment at being interrupted at the very +moment when her hopes had whispered that the happiness of reconciliation +might be at hand, Ænone could not but feel indignant that Leta should +thus calmly stand before her with that pretence of innocent +unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>'Why do you come hither? Who has demanded your presence?' Ænone cried, +now, in her indignation, caring but little what or how she spoke, or +what further revelations her actions might occasion, as long as so much +had already been exposed.</p> + +<p>'My lady,' rejoined the Greek, raising her eyes with a well-executed air +of surprise, 'do I intrude? I came but to say that in the antechamber +there is—'</p> + +<p>'Listen!' exclaimed Ænone, interrupting her, and taking her by the hand. +'Not an hour ago you told me about your quiet home in Samos—its green +vines—the blue mountains which encircled it—the little chamber where +your mother died, and in which you were born—and the lover whom you +left weeping at your cruel absence. You spoke of your affection for +every leaf and blade of grass about the place—and how you would give +your life itself to go back thither—yes, even your life, for you would +be content to lie down and die, if you could first return. Do you +remember?'</p> + +<p>'Well, my lady?'</p> + +<p>'Well, you shall return, as you desired. You have been given to me for +my own; and whether or not the gift be a full and free one, I will claim +my rights under it and set you free. In the first ship which sails from +Ostia for any port of Greece, in that ship you may depart. Are you +content, Leta?'</p> + +<p>Still holding her by the hand, Ænone gazed inquiringly into the burning +black eyes which fastened themselves upon her own, as though reading the +bottom of her soul. She could not as yet believe that even if the Greek +had actually begun to cherish any love for Sergius, it could be more +than a passing fancy, engendered by foolish compliments or ill-judged +signs of admiration, and therefore she did not doubt that the offer of +freedom and restoration would be gratefully received. Her only +uncertainty was with regard to the manner in which it would be listened +to—whether with tears of joy or with loud protestations of gratitude<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +upon bended knees; or whether the prospect of once again visiting that +cottage home and all that had so long been held dear, would come with +such unpremeditated intensity as to stifle all outward manifestations of +delight, except, perhaps, that trembling of the lip or ebb and flow of +color which is so often the surest sign of a full and glowing heart.</p> + +<p>For a moment Leta stood gazing up into the face of her mistress, +uttering no word of thanks, and with no tear of joy glistening in her +eye, but with the deepened flush of uncontrollable emotion overspreading +her features. And yet that flush seemed scarcely the token of a heart +overpowered with sudden joy, but rather of a mind conscious of being +involved in an unexpected dilemma, and puzzled with its inability to +extricate itself.</p> + +<p>'My mistress,' she responded at length, with lowered gaze, 'it is true +that I said I would return, if possible, to that other home of mine. But +now that you offer me the gift, I would not desire to accept it. Let me +stay here with you.'</p> + +<p>Ænone dropped the hand which till now she had held; and an agony of +mingled surprise, suspicion, disappointment, and presentiment of evil +swept across her features.</p> + +<p>'Are you then become like all others?' she said with bitterness. 'Has +the canker of this Roman life already commenced to eat into your soul, +so that in future no memory of anything that is pure or good can attract +you from its hollow splendors? Are thoughts of home, of freedom, of +friends, even of the trusted lover of whom you spoke—are all these now +of no account, when weighed against a few gilded pleasures?'</p> + +<p>'Why, indeed, should I care to return to that home?' responded the girl. +'Have not the Roman soldiers trodden down those vines and uprooted that +hearth? Is it a desolated and stricken home that I would care to see?'</p> + +<p>'False—false!' cried Ænone, no longer regardful of her words, but only +anxious to give utterance—no matter how rashly—to the suspicions which +she had so long and painfully repressed. 'It is even more than the mere +charms of this imperial city which entice you. It is that you are my +enemy, and would stay here to sting the hand that was so truly anxious +to protect you—that for your own purposes you would watch about my +path, and ever, as now, play the spy upon my actions, and—'</p> + +<p>'Nay, nay!' cried the Greek, her flashing eye and erect attitude in +strong contrast with the softened tone in which, more from habit than +from prudence, she had spoken. 'When have I played the spy upon you? Not +now, indeed, for I have come in, not believing that I was doing harm, +but simply because my duty has led me hither. I came to tell you that +there is a stranger—an old man—standing in the court below, and that +he craves audience with you. Is this a wrong thing for me to do? Were I +to forbear performance of this duty, would not my neglect insure me +punishment?'</p> + +<p>Ænone answered not, but, by a strong effort, kept back the words that +she would have uttered. Still angry and crushed with the sense of being +deceived, and yet conscious that it was not a noble or dignified thing +to be in disputation with her own slave, and that there was, moreover, +the remote possibility that the girl was not her enemy, and might really +dread returning to a desolated and devastated home, what could she say +or do? And while she pondered the matter, the door again opened.</p> + +<p>'And this is he of whom I spoke. Do you doubt me now?' exclaimed the +Greek, in a tone in which a shade of malicious triumph mingled with soft +reproach. And she moved away, and left the room, while Ænone, lifting +her eyes, saw her father standing before her.</p> + +<p>'A plague take the wench who has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> just left you!' he muttered. 'Did she +not tell you that I was below? I sent word by her, and here she has left +me for half an hour kicking my heels together in the courtyard. And I +might have stayed there forever, if I had not of myself found my way up. +Even then, there were some who would have stopped me, deeming me, +perhaps, too rough in appearance to be allowed to ascend. But I told +them that there was a time when members of the house of Porthenus did +not wait in antechambers, but stood beside the consuls of the old +republic, and I touched the hilt of my dagger; and whether it was the +one argument or the other which prevailed, here I am.'</p> + +<p>With a grim smile the centurion then threw himself down upon a settee +near the door, arranged as properly as possible the folds of his coarse +tunic, drew his belt round so as to show more in front his dagger with +richly embossed sheath—the sole article of courtly and ceremonious +attire in which he indulged—and endeavored to assume an easy and +imposing attitude. For an instant he gazed around the room, observantly +taking in its wealth of mosaic pavement, paintings, statuary, and vases. +Then, as he began to fear lest he might be yielding too much of his +pride before the overbearing influence of so much luxury, he +straightened himself up, gathered upon his features a hard and somewhat +contemptuous expression, and roughly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>'Yes, by the gods, the Portheni lived with consuls and proconsuls long +before the house of Vanno began to rise from the dregs and become a +house at all. And the imperator knows it, and is jealous of the fact, +too, or else he would the better acknowledge it. What, now, is that?' he +added, pointing to the central fresco of the ceiling.</p> + +<p>'It is—I know not for certain, my father—but I think—'</p> + +<p>'Nay, but I know what it is. It is the old story of the three Vanni +overcoming the five Cimbri at the bridge of Athesis. No great matter, +nor so very long ago, even if it were true. But why did he not paint up, +instead, how the founder of the Portheni, with his single arm, slew the +ten Carthaginians under the aqueduct of Megara? Is not now your family +history a portion of his own? His jealousy prevented him, I suppose; +though I doubt not that, when in his cups with his high associates, he +often boasts of his connection with the house of Porthenus. And yet he +would let the only relic of the family starve before assisting him.'</p> + +<p>Ænone stood as in a maze of confusion and uncertainty. Were the trials +of the day never to end? First her unsatisfactory strife and pleading +with her husband; then the undignified contest with her own slave into +which she had been betrayed; and now came this old man—her father, to +be sure—but so much the more mortifying to her, as his vulgarity, +querulous complaining, and insulting strictures were forced upon her +ears.</p> + +<p>'Are you not comfortable? What more can he or I do for you?' she said, +with some impatience.</p> + +<p>'Ay, ay; there it is,' growled the centurion. 'One person must have all +luxuries—paintings, silver, and the like; but if the other has only +mere comforts, an extra tunic, perhaps, or a spare bit of meat for a +dog, what more can he want? But I will tell you what you can do? And it +is not as a gift, I ask it. Poor and despised as he may be, no one can +say that the centurion Porthenus is a beggar. It is as a fair matter of +business that I offer it.'</p> + +<p>'Well, my father?'</p> + +<p>'It is this: I have two slaves, and can afford to keep only one of them, +particularly as but one can be of use to me. Will the imperator purchase +the other? I will give it for a fair price, and therefore no one can say +that I have asked for anything beyond a proper trade, with which either +side should be well satisfied.'</p> + +<p>Ænone listened with a blush of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> shame for her father overspreading her +face. It did not occur to her that the slave rejected as useless could +be any other than the hunchback, whom her husband had bestowed upon the +centurion a few days before; and for the receiver to try to sell back a +gift to the giver was a depth of meanness for which no filial partiality +or affection could find an excuse.</p> + +<p>'I will show him to you,' cried the centurion, losing a little of his +gruffness in his eagerness to effect a transaction, whereby, under the +thin guise of a simple trade, he could extort a benefit. 'I have brought +him with me, and left him below. You will see that he is of good +appearance, and that the imperator will be pleased and grateful to me +for the opportunity of possessing him.'</p> + +<p>So saying, Porthenus strode to the head of the stairway, and issued his +commands in a stern voice, which made the vaulted ceilings of the palace +ring. A faint, weak response came up in answer, and in a moment the +slave entered the room.</p> + +<p>'Is this the one of whom you spoke?' faltered Ænone, unable for the +moment to retain her self-possession as she beheld, not the angular, +wiry form of the hunchback, but the careworn and slim figure of Cleotos. +'I thought—indeed I thought that you spoke of the inferior of the two.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, and so I do,' responded her father. 'Of what use to me can this man +be? The other one, indeed, is of tenfold value. There is no slave in +Rome like unto him for cleaning armor or sharpening a weapon, while to +run of an errand or manage any piece of business in which brains must +bear their part, I will trust him against the world. But as for this man +here, with his weak limbs and his simple face—do you know that I did +but set him to polish the rim of a shield, and in his awkwardness he let +it fall, and spoiled the surface as though a Jewish spear had stricken +it.'</p> + +<p>Ænone remained silent, scarcely listening to the words of her father, +while, in a troubled manner, she again mentally ran over, as she had +done hundreds of times before, the chances of recognition by the man who +stood before her.</p> + +<p>'But listen to me still further,' continued the centurion, fearful lest +his disparaging comments might defeat the projected sale. 'I only speak +of him as he is useful or not to me. To another person he would be most +valuable; for, though he cannot polish armor, he can polish verses, and +he can write as well as though he were educated for a scribe. For one +favored of fortune like the imperator Sergius Vanno,' and here again the +centurion began to roll the high-sounding name upon his tongue with +obvious relish, 'who wishes an attendant to carry his wine cup, or to +bear his cloak after him, or to trim his lamps, and read aloud his +favorite books, where could a better youth than this be found?'</p> + +<p>Ænone, still overpowered by her troubled thoughts, made no response.</p> + +<p>'Or to yourself,' eagerly continued the centurion, 'he would be most +suitable, with his pale, handsome face, and his slender limbs. Have you +a page?'</p> + +<p>'I have my maidens,' was the answer.</p> + +<p>'And that amounts to nothing at all,' asserted her father. 'A plebeian +can have her maidens in plenty, but it is not right that the wife of a +high and mighty imperator,' and here again the words rolled majestically +off his tongue, 'should not also have her male attendants. And the more +so when that wife has been taken from an ancient house like that of +Porthenus,' he added, with a frown in derogation of any tendency to give +undue importance to her present position. 'But with this Cleotos—come +forward, slave, and let yourself be seen.'</p> + +<p>Cleotos, who, partly from natural diffidence, and partly from being +abashed at the unaccustomed splendor about him, had, little by little, +from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> his first entrance, shrunk into a corner, now advanced; and Ænone, +once more resolutely assuring herself that, with the changes which time, +position, difference of place and costume had thrown about her, she +could defy recognition, summoned all her courage, and looked him in the +face. It may have been with an unacknowledged fear lest, now that she +saw him so freely in the broad daylight, some latent spark of the old +attachment might burst into a flame, and withdraw her heart from its +proper duty; but at the first glance she felt that in this respect she +had nothing to dread. In almost every particular, Cleotos had but little +changed. His costume was but slightly different from that which he had +always been accustomed to wear; for the centurion, in view of the chance +of effecting a profitable sale, had, for that occasion, made him put on +suitable and becoming attire. The face was still youthful—the eye, as +of old, soft, expressive, and unhardened by the ferocities of the world +about him. As Ænone looked, it seemed as though the years which had +passed rolled back again, and that she was once more a girl. But it also +seemed as though something else had passed away—as though she looked +not upon a lover, but rather upon a quiet, kindhearted, innocent +friend—one who could ever be dear to her as a brother, but as nothing +else. What was it which had so flitted away that the same face could now +stir up no fire of passion, but only a friendly interest? Something, she +could not tell what; but she thanked the gods that it was so, and drew a +long breath of relief.</p> + +<p>But it was none the less incumbent upon her, for the sake of that +present friendship and for the memory of that old regard, to cast her +protection over him. For an instant the thought flashed across her that +it would be well to purchase him, not simply for a page, but so that she +could have him in the way of kind treatment and attention until some +opportunity of restoring him to his native land might occur. But then +again was the danger that, if any great length of time should meanwhile +elapse, unconsidered trifles might lead to a recognition. No, that plan +could not be thought of. She must keep a protecting eye upon him from a +distance, and trust to the future for a safe working out of the problem.</p> + +<p>'It cannot be,' she murmured, in answer, half to her father, half to her +own suggestion.</p> + +<p>''Tis well,' muttered the centurion, rising with an air of displeasure +which indicated that he thought it very ill. 'I supposed that it would +be a kindness to the imperator or to yourself to give the first offer of +the man. But it matters little. The captain Polidorus will take him any +moment at a fair price.'</p> + +<p>'You will not send him to the captain Polidorus?' exclaimed Ænone in +affright. For at once the many atrocities of that man toward his slaves +rose in her mind—how that he had slain one in a moment of passion—how +that he had deliberately beaten another to death for attempting to +escape to the catacombs—how that stripes and torture were the daily +portion of the unfortunates in his power—and that, not by reason of any +gross neglect of their duty, but for the merest and most trifling +inadvertencies. Better death than such a fate.</p> + +<p>'Pah! What can I do?' retorted Porthenus, skilfully touching the chord +of her sympathies, as he saw how sensitive she was to its vibrations. +'It is true that Polidorus is no fawning woman, and that he greets his +slaves with the rod and the brand, and what not. It is true that he +thinks but little of sending one of them to Hades through the avenue of +his fishponds. But that, after all, is his affair, and if he chooses to +destroy his property, what should it matter to me? Am I so rich that I +can afford to lose a fair purchaser because he may incline to hang or +drown his bargain? Such self-denial may suit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> the governor of a +province, but should not be expected of a poor centurion.'</p> + +<p>Ænone trembled, and again the impulse to make the purchase came upon +her. Better to risk anything for herself—recognition, discovery, +suspicion, or misconstruction, than that her friendship should so far +fail as to allow this poor captive to fall into the hands of a brutish +tyrant. There was a purse of gold in the half-opened drawer of a table +which stood near her; and, in sore perplexity, she raised it, then let +it fall, and again lifted it. As the centurion listened to the ring of +the metal, his eyes sparkled, and he prepared to apply new arguments, +when Cleotos himself sprang forward.</p> + +<p>'I know nothing about this Polidorus of whom they speak,' said he, +dropping upon one knee at her feet. 'And it is not to save myself from +his hands that I ask your pity, most noble lady. There is much that I +have already suffered, and perhaps a little more might make no +difference, or, better yet, might close the scene with me forever. It is +for other reasons that I would wish to be in this house—even as the +lowest, meanest slave of all, rather than to live in the halls of the +emperor Titus himself. There is one in this house, most noble lady, from +whom I have long been cruelly separated, and who—what can I say but +that if, when I was a free man, she gave me her love, now, in my +abasement, she will not fail with that love to brighten my lot?'</p> + +<p>Ænone started. At hearing such words, there could be but one thought in +her mind—that he had actually recognized her, and that, without waiting +to see whether or not she had forgotten him, and certainly knowing that +in any event her position toward him had become changed, he was daring +to covertly suggest a renewal of their old relationship. But the next +words reassured her.</p> + +<p>'We lived near each other in Samos, my lady. I was happy, and I blessed +the fates for smiling upon us. How was I then to know that she would be +torn away from me upon the very day when I was to have led her to my own +home?'</p> + +<p>'You say that she is here? Is it—do you speak of Leta?' cried Ænone.</p> + +<p>'Leta was her name,' he responded, in some surprise that his secret had +been so promptly penetrated before he had more than half unfolded it. +'And she is here.'</p> + +<p>There was to Ænone perhaps one instant of almost unconscious regret at +learning that she had been forgotten for another. But it passed away +like a fleeting cloud—banished from her mind by the full blaze of +happiness which poured in upon her at the thought that here at last was +what would counteract the cruel schemes which were warring against her +peace, and would thereby bring sure relief to her sorrow.</p> + +<p>'And she is here,' repeated Cleotos. 'When at the first she was torn +from my side, most noble lady, I would have died, if I could, for I did +not believe that life had any further blessing in store for me. But, +though the Roman armies were cruel, the fates have been kind, and have +again brought us near. It was but a week ago that, as I looked up by the +moonlight at these palace walls, I saw her. Can it be, that after so +long a time, the gods meant I should be brought near, to have but this +one glimpse of happiness, and then again be sundered from it?'</p> + +<p>'It cannot be—it was not meant to be,' exclaimed Ænone, with energy; +and again lifting the purse of gold, she placed it in the centurion's +hand. 'There, I will purchase your slave,' she said. 'Take from this his +proper price, and leave him with me.'</p> + + +<h4><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h4> + +<p>The centurion received the purse with ill-dissembled joy. Had he been +fully able to control himself, he would doubtless have maintained a +quiet air of dignified self-possession, befitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> one giving full value +for what he had received, and therefore not expected to exhibit any +peculiarly marked or lively satisfaction. But the affair had been +concluded so suddenly, and with such a liberal confidence in his +discretion, that, for the moment, his hands trembled with excitement, +and his face shone with avaricious pleasure.</p> + +<p>Then he began to count out the gold pieces, gleefully dropping some into +his pouch, and reluctantly putting others back into the purse. From the +first he had established in his own mind the valuation which he would +place upon the slave; and he had taken care to make his calculation upon +such a liberal scale that he could well afford to consent to a large +deduction, if it were required of him. Now he reasoned that, as his +child had merely told him to take out what was proper, there could be no +impropriety in paying himself at the highest possible price. She would +never mind, and there were many comforts which he needed, and which an +extra gold piece or two would enable him to procure for himself.</p> + +<p>Then, as he weighed the purse and pondered over it, numerous wants and +requirements, which he had hardly known until that time, came into his +mind. He might supply them all, if he were not too timid or scrupulous +in availing himself of an opportunity such as might never come to him +again. Had even his first valuation of the slave been a sufficient one? +He ought certainly to consider that the man could read and write, and +was of such beauty and grace that he could be trained to a most courtly +air; and it was hardly proper to sell him for no more than the price of +a couple of gladiators, mere creatures of bone and brawn. And, in any +event, it was hardly probable that Ænone knew the true value of slaves, +or even remembered how much her purse had contained.</p> + +<p>Thus meanly reflecting, the centurion dropped more of the gold pieces +into his pocket, all the while eying the slave with keen scrutiny, as +though calculating the market value of every hair upon his head. Then, +with a sigh, he handed back the purse, most wofully lightened of its +contents, and turned from the room, endeavoring to compose his features +into a decent appearance of sober indifference, and muttering that he +would not have allowed himself to be betrayed into giving up such a +prize so cheaply had it not been that he had an especial regard for the +imperator Sergius Vanno, and that the house of Porthenus had never +nourished mere traders to wrangle and chaffer over their property.</p> + +<p>In one of his conjectures he had been correct. It was little that Ænone +knew or cared about the price she was paying. Had the purse been +returned to her entirely empty, she would have thrown it unheedingly +into the drawer, and have never dreamed but that all had been rightly +done. There was now but one idea filling her heart. She thought not +about money nor any imprudence which she was committing, nor yet upon +the chance of recognition. She only reflected that the day of her +triumph had come—that at the sight of the long-absent lover, Leta would +abandon the wrong path in which she had been straying, would throw +herself into his arms, would tell him how, through the loss of him, she +had become reckless, and had allowed her suffering mind to become +perverted from the right—but that now all was again well; and thus +confessing and being forgiven, would, in the ever-present joy of that +forgiveness, lead for the future a different life, and, instead of a +rival, become to her mistress a friend and ally.</p> + +<p>Glowing with this bright hope, Ænone scarcely noticed the shuffling +departure of the centurion, but, fixing her eyes upon the captive, +keenly scrutinized his appearance. Not that it was likely that Leta, in +the first flush of her joy at meeting him, would notice or care in what +guise he was presented,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> so long as the soul which had so often +responded to her own was there. But it was well that there should be +nothing neglected which, without being directly essential to the +production of a proper impression, might be tributary to it.</p> + +<p>The inspection was satisfactory. Not only was the dress of the captive +clean, neat, becoming, and suitable to his station, but his appearance +had undergone visible improvement since Ænone had last seen him. The +rest and partial composure of even the few intervening days had sufficed +to restore tone to his complexion, roundness to his cheeks, and +something of the old merry smile to his eyes. And though complete +restoration was not yet effected, enough had been accomplished to show +that there was much latent beauty which would not fail to develop itself +under the stimulant of additional rest and kindly treatment.</p> + +<p>'Go in, thither,' said Ænone, pointing to the adjoining room, in which +Leta was occupied. 'When you are there, you will—it will be told you +what you are to do.'</p> + +<p>Cleotos bowed low, and passed through into the other room; and Ænone +followed him with a glance which betrayed the longing she felt to enter +with him and witness the meeting of the two lovers. But a sense of +propriety outweighed her curiosity and restrained her. It was not right, +indeed, that she should intrude. Such recognitions should be sacred to +the persons directly interested in them. She would therefore remain +outside, and there await Cleotos's return. And as she took into her +hands a little parchment ode which lay upon her table, and nervously +endeavored to interest herself in it, she delightedly pictured the +sudden transport of those within the next room, and the beaming joy with +which, hand in hand, they would finally emerge to thank her for their +newly gained happiness.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, Leta, having delivered her message, and received her +rebuke for the interruption, had retired to the other room, and there, +as usual, resumed her daily task of embroidery. Bending low over the +intricate stitches and counting their spaces, her features, at a casual +glance, still bore their impress of meek and unconscious humility, so +far did her accustomed self-control seem to accompany her even when +alone. But a more attentive scrutiny would have detected, half hidden +beneath the fringed eyelids, a sparkle of gratified triumph, and, in the +slightly bent corners of the mouth, a shade of haughty disdain; and +little by little, as the moments progressed, these indications of an +inner, irrepressible nature gained in intensity, and, as though her +fingers were stayed by a tumult of thought, her work slowly began to +slip from her grasp.</p> + +<p>At length, lifting her head, and, perhaps, for the first time realizing +that she was alone and might indulge her impulses without restraint, she +abruptly threw from her the folds of the embroidery, and stood erect. +Why should she longer trifle with that weak affair of velvet and dyes? +Who was the poor, inanimate, and tearful statue in the next room, to +order her to complete those tasks? What to herself were the past deeds +of the Vanni, that they should be perpetuated in ill-fashioned tapestry, +to be hung around a gilded banquet hall? By the gods! she would from +that day make a new history in the family life; and it should be +recorded, not with silken threads upon embroidered velvet, but should be +engraved deeply and ineffaceably upon human hearts!</p> + +<p>Standing motionless in the centre of the room, with one foot upon the +half-completed tapestry, she now for the first time, and in a flash of +inspiration, gave shape and comeliness to her previously confusedly +arranged ideas. Until the present moment she had had but little thought +of accomplishing anything beyond skilfully availing herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> of her +natural attractions so as to climb from her menial position into +something a little better and higher. If, in the struggle to raise +herself from the degradation of slavery, she were obliged to engage in a +rivalry with her mistress, and, by robbing her of the affection +naturally belonging to her, were to crush her to the earth, it was a +thing to be deplored, but it must none the less be done. She might, +perhaps, pity the victim, but the sacrifice must be accomplished all the +same.</p> + +<p>But now these vague dreams of a somewhat better lot, to be determined by +future chance circumstances, rolled away like a shapeless cloud, and +left in their place one bright image as the settled object of her +ambition. So lofty, so dazzling seemed the prize, that another person +would have shrunk in dismay from even the thought of striving for it, +and even she, for the moment, recoiled. But she was of too determined a +nature to falter long. The higher the object to be attained the fewer +would be the competitors, and the greater the chance of success to +unwearying determination. And if there were but one chance of success in +a thousand, it were still worth the struggle.</p> + +<p>This great thought which stimulated her ambition was nothing less than +the resolution to become the wife of the imperator Sergius. At first it +startled her with its apparent wild extravagance; but little by little, +as she weighed the chances, it seemed to become more practicable. There +was, indeed, nothing grossly impossible in the idea. Men of high rank +had ere now married their slaves, and the corrupted society of Rome had +winked at mesalliances which, in the days of the republic, would not +have been tolerated. And she was merely a slave from accidental +circumstances—being free born, and having, but a month before, been the +pride and ornament of a respectable though lowly family. Once let her +liberty be restored, and the scarcely perceptible taint of a few weeks' +serfdom be removed from her, and she would be, in all social respects, +fully the equal of the poor, trembling maid of Ostia, to whom, a few +years before, the patrician had not been ashamed to stoop.</p> + +<p>This bar of social inequality thus removed, the rest might be in her own +hands. Sergius no longer felt for his wife the old affection, under the +impulse of which he had wedded her; and the few poor remains of the love +which he still cherished, more from habit than otherwise, were fast +disappearing. This was already so evident as to have become the common +gossip of even the lowliest slaves in the household. And he loved +herself instead, for not only his actions, but his words had told her +so. A little more craft and plotting, therefore—a little further +display of innocent and lowly meekness and timid obedience—a few more +well-considered efforts to widen the conjugal breach—a week or two more +persistent exercise of those fascinations which men were so feeble to +resist—jealousy, recrimination, quarrels, and a divorce—and the whole +thing might be accomplished. In those days of laxity, divorce was an +easy matter. In this case there was no family influence upon the part of +the wife to be set up in opposition—but merely an old centurion, +ignorant and powerless. A few writings, for form's sake—and the day +that sent the weeping wife from the door might install the manumitted +and triumphant slave in her place.</p> + +<p>All aglow with the ravishing prospect—her eager hopes converting the +possible into the probable, and again, by a rapid change, the probable +into the certain, the Greek stood spurning the needle work at her feet. +Then glancing around, the whim seized upon her to assume, for a moment +in advance, her coming stately dignity. At the side of the room, upon a +slightly elevated platform, was a crimson lounge—Ænone's especial and +proper seat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> Over one arm of this lounge hung, in loose folds, a robe +of purple velvet, with an embroidered fringe of pearls—a kind of cloak +of state, usually worn by her upon the reception of ceremonious visits. +To this lounge Leta strode, threw herself upon it, drew the velvet +garment over her shoulders, so that the long folds fell down gracefully +and swept the marble pavement at her feet, and there, half sitting, half +reclining, assumed an attitude of courtly dignity, as though mistress of +the palace.</p> + +<p>And it must be confessed that she well suited the place. With her lithe, +graceful figure thrown into a position in which the gentle languor of +unembarrassed leisure was mingled with the dignity of queenly +state—with her burning eyes so tempered in their brilliancy that they +seemed ready at the same instant to bid defiance to impertinent +intrusion, and to bestow gracious condescension upon suppliant +timidity—with every feature glowing with that proper pride which is not +arrogance, and that proper kindliness which is not humility—there was +probably in all Rome no noble matron who could as well adorn her chair +of ceremony. Beside her, the true mistress of the place would have +appeared as a timid child dismayed with unaccustomed honors; and in +comparison, the empress herself might not fill her throne in the palace +of the Cæsars with half the grace and dignity.</p> + +<p>Then, as she there sat, momentarily altering her attitude to correspond +the better with her ideas of proper bearing, and gathering into newer +and more pleasing folds the sweeping breadths of the velvet mantle, the +door was slowly swung open, and there glided noiselessly in, clad in its +neat and coarse tunic, the timid figure of her old lover Cleotos.</p> + +<p>For an instant they remained gazing at each other as though paralyzed. +Cleotos—who had looked to see her in her simple white vestment as of +old, and had expected at her first glance to rush to her arms, and there +be allowed to pour forth his joy at again meeting her, never more to +part—beheld with dismay this gorgeously arrayed and queenly figure. +This could not be the Leta whom he had known, or, if so, how changed! +Was this the customary attire of slaves in high-placed families? Or +could it be the token of a guilty favoritism? His heart sank within him; +and he stood nervously clinging against the door behind him, fearing to +advance, lest, at the first step, some terrible truth, of which he had +already seemed to feel the premonitions, might burst upon him.</p> + +<p>And she, for the moment, sat aghast, not knowing but that the gods, to +punish her pride and ambition, had sent a spectre to confront her. But +being of strong mind and but little given to superstitious terrors, she +instantly reasoned out the facts of his simultaneous captivity with +herself and coincidence of ownership; and her sole remaining doubt was +in what manner she should treat him. They had parted in sorrow and +tears, and she knew that he now expected her to fall into his arms and +there repeat her former vows of constancy and love. But that could not +be. Had he come to her but an hour before, while her dreams of the +future were of a vague and unsatisfactory character, she might have +acted upon such an impulse. But now, a glorious vision of what might +possibly happen had kindled her ambition with brighter fires than ever +before; and could she surrender all that, and think again only upon +starving freedom in a cottage home?</p> + +<p>'Is it thou, Cleotos? Welcome to Rome!' she said at length, throwing +from her shoulder the purple cloak, and approaching him. As she spoke, +she held out her hand. He took it in his own, in a lifeless and +mechanical sort of way, and gazed into her face with a strange look of +inquiring doubt, which momentarily settled into an expression<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> of deeper +apprehension. The blackness of despair began to enter into his soul. Now +that she was divested of her borrowed richness, she looked more like +herself, and that was surely her voice uttering tones of greeting; but +somehow her heart did not seem to be in them, and, for a certainty, this +had not been her wonted style of welcome.</p> + +<p>'I thought,' she continued, 'that thou wert slain. Certainly when I +parted from you ere you fled into the mountains—'</p> + +<p>'You know that I fled not at all,' he interrupted, the color mounting +into his temples. 'Why do you speak so, Leta? I retired to the mountains +to meet my friends there and with them carry on the defence; and, +previous thereto, I conducted you to what I believed to be a place of +safety. And I fought my best against the foe, and was brought nigh unto +death. This I did, though I can boast of but a weak and slender frame. +And it is hard that the first greeting of one so well loved as you +should be a taunt.'</p> + +<p>'Nay, forgive me,' she said. 'I doubt not your valor. It was but in +forgetfulness that I spoke. I meant it not for a taunt.' And in truth +she had not so meant it. It was but the inadvertent expression of a +feeling which the sight of his feeble and boyish figure unwittingly made +upon her—an incapacity to connect deeds of valor with apparent physical +weakness. But this very inability to judge of his true nature by the +soul that strove to look into her own rather than by material +impressions was perhaps no slight proof of the little unison between her +nature and his.</p> + +<p>'Sit down here,' she continued, 'and tell me all that has happened to +you.' And they sat together, and he briefly told her of his warlike +adventures, his wound, his captivity, his recognition of herself, and +his successful attempt to be once more under the same roof with her. And +somehow it still seemed to him that their talk was not as of old, and +that her sympathy with his misfortunes was but weak and cheerless; and +though he tried to interweave the customary words of endearment with his +story, there was a kind of inner check upon him, so that they came not +readily to his lips as of old. And she sat, trying to listen, and indeed +keeping the thread of his adventures in her mind; but all the while +finding her attention fail as she speculated how she could best give +that explanation of her feelings which she knew would soon be demanded +of her.</p> + +<p>'And here I am at last, Leta—as yourself, a slave!' he concluded.</p> + +<p>'Courage, my friend!' was her answer. 'There are very many degrees and +fates reserved for all in this old Rome, and much for every man to +learn. And many a one who has begun as a slave has, in the end, attained +not only to freedom, but to high honor and station.'</p> + +<p>'If the gods were to give me honor and station, far be it from me to +refuse the gift,' he said. 'But that, of itself alone, would not content +me, unless you were there to share the good with me. And with yourself I +would crave no other blessing. We are slaves here, Leta, but even that +fate may have its mitigations and happiness for us.'</p> + +<p>She was silent. How could she tell it to him? But his suspicions, at +first vague, were now aroused by her very silence into more certainty.</p> + +<p>'Tell me,' he cried, again taking her hand, 'tell me my fate; and if +sorrow is to come upon me, let it come now. It seems as though there +were indeed evil tidings in store for me. The blight of anticipated evil +even weighed upon me ere I passed yonder hall, and when I knew no reason +why I should not find you loving of heart and humble of desire as in +other days. Is it all gone? Are you no longer the same? This tawdry +velvet in which I found you arrayed—is it the type of a something +equally foreign to your nature, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> which imperial Rome has thrown +about you to aid in crushing out the better feelings of your heart?'</p> + +<p>'My friend, my brother,' she said at length, with some real pity and +some false sorrow, 'why have we again met? Why is it now forced upon me +to tell you that the past must always be the past with us?'</p> + +<p>He dropped her hand, and the tears started into his eyes. Much as the +words and gestures of the last few minutes had prepared him for the +announcement, yet when it came, it smote him as though there had been no +premonition of it; so lovingly had his heart persisted in clinging to +the faint hope that he might have been mistaken. A low wail of anguish +burst from his lips.</p> + +<p>'And this is the end of all?' he sobbed.</p> + +<p>'Think only,' she said, 'think only that I am not worthy of you.'</p> + +<p>'The old story—the old story which has been repeated from the beginning +of the world,' he cried, stung into life by something of heartlessness +which he detected in her affected sympathy. 'The woman weaves her toils +about the man—gilds his life until there is no brightness which can +compare with it—fills his heart with high hopes of a blissful +future—so changes his soul that he can cherish no thought but of +her—so alters the whole tenor and purpose of his existence that he even +welcomes slavery as a precious boon because it brings him under the same +roof with her. And then—some other fancy having crossed her mind—or an +absence of a week or two having produced forgetfulness—she insults him +with a cruel mockery of self-unworthiness as her sole apology for +perfidy.'</p> + +<p>'Nay,' she exclaimed, half glad of an excuse to quarrel with him. 'If +you would rather have it otherwise, think, then, that I have never loved +you as I should, even though I may have imagined that I did.'</p> + +<p>'Go on,' he said, seeing that she hesitated.</p> + +<p>'I know,' she continued, 'that in other days you have had my words for +it, uttered, indeed, in sympathy and truth, as I then felt them. But I +was a simple girl, then, Cleotos. The sea before me and the mountains +behind bounded all my knowledge of the world. The people whom I saw were +but few. The tastes I had were simple. Is it wonderful that I should +have listened to the first one who spoke to me of love, and should have +imagined that my heart made response to him? But now, now, Cleotos—'</p> + +<p>'Now, what?' he exclaimed. 'Would you say that now you have seen the +world better and think differently? What is there in all that you have +since known that should change you? Is it that the sight of war and +tumult—of burning towns and bleeding captives—of insolent soldiers and +cruel taskmasters can have made you less in favor with our own native, +vine-covered retreat, with its neighborhood of simple peasantry? Or +would you say that since then you have met others whom you can love +better than me? Whom, indeed, have you seen but weary prisoners like +myself, or else unpitying conquerors whose love would be your shame? You +blush, Leta! Pray the gods that it be not the latter! Struggle sternly +with yourself to realize that you are merely for the moment fascinated +by the unaccustomed splendors of this swarming city; and that after its +first brightness has worn off from your dazzled eyes, your soul may +return to its native, pure simplicity and innocence, and—and to me.'</p> + +<p>'Speak not so, Cleotos,' she responded. 'My eyes are not dazzled with +any splendors; but for all that, our ways now and forever lie in +different directions. We are slaves, and can give little heed to our +affections. Our only course must be for each to strive to rise above +this serfdom; and if, in doing so, either can help the other, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> must +be done—but in friendship, not in love. To you, through good conduct, +there may open, even in slavery, many posts of influence and profit; +and, in so much, of better worth than our own boasted liberty with +poverty. And as for me—I see my destiny already beckoning me to a +position such as many a free Roman woman might envy.'</p> + +<p>Speaking thus obscurely of her anticipated grandeur—to be gained, +perhaps, by abasement, but none the less in her mind certain to end in +such legitimate position as might sanctify the previous steps +thereto—her face again lit up with a glow of pride, as though she were +already the powerful patrician's wife. And revelling in such dreams, she +saw not the agony which overspread her listener's face as he read her +thoughts partly awrong, and believed her content to throw herself away +forever, in order to gain some temporary exaltation as a wealthy Roman's +plaything.</p> + +<p>'And when that day does come,' she continued, 'if, for the memory of our +old friendship, I can help to elevate you to some better sphere—'</p> + +<p>'Enough! No more!' he cried bitterly; and starting from her, he fled out +of the room. It were hard enough that he should lose her, harder yet +that he should hear her marking out for herself a life of ruin for some +temporary gain, but harder than all, that she should dare to mistake his +nature so far as to insult him with the promise of aiding his prosperity +through such an influence.</p> + +<p>'Let me go hence!' he cried, in his agony, to Ænone, who, still radiant +with her newly discovered hope, met him at the door. 'Send me to the +captain Polidorus—anywhere—only let me leave this house!'</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AMERICAN_SLAVERY_AND_FINANCES" id="AMERICAN_SLAVERY_AND_FINANCES"></a>AMERICAN SLAVERY AND FINANCES.</h2> + +<h3>By Hon. Robert J. Walker.</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[The following article, from the pen of Hon. R. J. Walker, forms +the <span class="smcap">Appendix</span> to the volume just published in England, and +now exciting great attention there, containing the various +pamphlets issued by him during the last six months. The subjects +discussed embrace Jefferson Davis and Repudiation, Recognition, +Slavery, Finances and Resources of the United States. It would be +difficult to overestimate the effect of these Letters abroad. As +our readers already possess them in the pages of <span class="smcap">The +Continental</span>, we enable them to complete the series by +furnishing the ensuing Appendix. It closes with an extract from an +'Introductory Address' delivered by Mr. Walker before the National +Institute, at Washington, D. C., giving a short account of the +various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen in the +Inductive Sciences. As showing to England what a high rank we had +even then taken in the world of science, and pointing out to her +the number and fame of our savants, it will be read with just pride +and interest. As the Address was delivered in 1844, it of course +contains no details of our marvellous progress since that date in +science and discovery.—<span class="smcap">Ed. Continental.</span>]</p></div> + +<p>We have seen by the Census Tables, if the product <i>per capita</i> of the +Slave States in 1859 had been equal to that of the Free States for that +year, that the <span class="smcap">ADDITIONAL</span> value produced in 1859 in the Slave +States would have been $1,531,631,000. Now as our population augmented +during that decade 35.59 per cent., this <i>increased</i> value, at that +ratio, in 1869 would have been $2,052,332,272. If multiplying the amount +<i>each year</i> by three only, instead of 3-559/1000 the result, during that +decade, would have been as follows:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="50%" cellspacing="0" summary="Census Tables"> +<tr><td align='left'>Product of</td><td align='right'>1860,</td><td align='right'>$1,559,039,962</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1861,</td><td align='right'>1,605,811,060</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1862,</td><td align='right'>1,654,085,391</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1863,</td><td align='right'>1,703,707,952</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1864,</td><td align='right'>1,754,819,198</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1865,</td><td align='right'>1,807,464,773</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1866,</td><td align='right'>1,861,688,716</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1867,</td><td align='right'>1,917,539,377</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1868,</td><td align='right'>1,975,065,558</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"</span></td><td align='right'>1869,</td><td align='right'>2,034,317,524</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>——————</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align='left'>Total augmented product of the decade</td><td align='right'>$17,873,539,511</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>That is, the total <i>increased</i> product of the Slave States, during the +decade from 1859 to 1869, would have been $17,873,539,511, if the +production in the Slave States had been equal, <i>per capita</i>, to that of +the Free States. This, it will be remembered, is gross product. This, it +will be perceived, is far below the actual result, as we can see by +comparing the real product of 1869, $2,052,332,272, as before given, +with the $2,034,317,524, as the result of a multiplication by three each +year.</p> + +<p>The ratio of the increase of our <i>wealth</i>, from 1850 to 1860, as shown +by the census, was much greater than that of our population—namely, +126.45 per cent. Multiplying by this ratio (126.45), the result would be +an <i>additional</i> product in 1860, in the Slave States, of $3,427,619,475. +But our wealth increases in an augmented ratio during each decade.</p> + +<p>Thus, the ratio of the increase of our wealth, as shown by the census, +was as follows:</p> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="50%" cellspacing="0" summary="Ratio of the increase of our wealth"> +<tr><td align='left'>From</td><td align='left'>1820 to 1830,</td><td align='right'>41</td><td align='left'>per cent.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>From</td><td align='left'>1830 to 1840,</td><td align='right'>42</td><td align='left'>per cent.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>From</td><td align='left'>1840 to 1850,</td><td align='right'>64</td><td align='left'>per cent.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>From</td><td align='left'>1850 to 1860,</td><td align='right'>126.45</td><td align='left'>per cent.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Thus, the increase of our wealth from 1840 to 1850, was more than 50 per +cent. greater than from 1830 to 1840; and from 1850 to 1860, nearly +double that from 1840 to 1850. At the same duplicate ratio, from 1850 to +1870, the result would be over 250 per cent. That such would have been a +close approximation to the true result, is rendered still more probable +by the fact, that the product of 1859, as shown by the census, was 250 +per cent. greater than that of 1849.</p> + +<p>If, then, instead of 126.45 per cent., we were to assume 250 per cent. +as the ratio, the result would be in 1869, $5,297,708,612, as the +<i>increased</i> product of the Slave States that year, if the ratio <i>per +capita</i> were equal to that of the Free States. If we carry out these +ratios from 1859 to 1869, either of 126.45, or of 250, into the +aggregate of the decade, the results are startling. Assuming, however, +that of the population only, we have seen that the aggregate result in +the decade from 1859 to 1869 was over seventeen billions of dollars, or +largely more than ten times our debt incurred by this rebellion.</p> + +<p>When, then, I reassert the opinion, heretofore expressed by me, that as +the result of the superiority of free over slave labor, our wealth in +1870, and especially in each succeeding decade, as a consequence of the +entire abolition of Slavery in the United States, will be far greater, +notwithstanding the debt, than if the rebellion had never occurred, +there is here presented conclusive official proof of the truth of this +statement. We have seen that our wealth increased from 1850 to 1860, +126.45 per cent., whilst that of England, from 1851 to 1861, augmented +only at the rate of 37 per cent.</p> + +<p>Applying these several ratios to the progress of the wealth of the +United Kingdom and the United States, respectively, in 1870, 1880, 1890, +and 1900, the result is given below.</p> + +<p>We have seen by the census, that our national wealth was, in</p> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="35%" cellspacing="0" summary="National wealth"> +<tr><td align='left'>1850,</td><td align='right'>$7,135,780,228</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>1860,</td><td align='right'>16,159,616,068</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Increase from 1850 to 1860, 126.45 per cent.</p> + +<p>England, from 1851 to 1861, 37 per cent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>Assuming these ratios, the result would be as follows:</p> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="50%" cellspacing="0" summary="Assuming these ratios, the result would be as follows"> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3" align='center'>UNITED KINGDOM.</th></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1861,</td><td align='center'>wealth,</td><td align='right'>$31,500,000,000</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1871,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>48,155,000,000</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1881,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>59,122,350,000</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1891,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>80,997,619,500</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1901,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>110,966,837,715</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><th colspan="3" align='center'>UNITED STATES.</th></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1860,</td><td align='center'>wealth,</td><td align='right'>$16,159,616,068</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1870,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>36,593,450,585</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1880,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>82,865,868,849</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1890,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>187,314,353,225</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>1900,</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'>423,330,438,288</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Thus, it appears by the census of each nation, that, each increasing in +the same ratio respectively as for the last decade, the wealth of the +United States in 1880 would exceed that of the United Kingdom +$23,743,518,849; that in 1890 it would be much more than double, and in +1900, approaching quadruple that of the United Kingdom.</p> + +<p>When we reflect that England increases in wealth much more rapidly than +any other country of Europe, the value of these statistics may be +estimated, as proving how readily our national debt can be extinguished +without oppressive taxation.</p> + +<p>These are the results, founded on the actual statistics, without +estimating the enormous increase of our national wealth, arising from +the abolition of Slavery. We have seen that, by the official tables of +the census of 1860, the value of the <i>products</i> of the United States, so +far as given, for the year 1859, was $5,290,000,000. But this is very +short of the actual result. The official report (pages 59, 190, 198 to +210) shows that this included <i>only</i> the products of 'agriculture, +manufactures, mines, and fisheries.' In referring to the result as to +'<i>manufactures</i>,' at page 59 of his official report before given, the +Superintendent says: 'If to this amount were added the very large +aggregate of mechanical productions below the annual value of $500, of +which no official cognizance is taken, the result would be one of +<i>startling magnitude</i>.'</p> + +<p>1. This omission alone, for gross product, is estimated at $500,000,000.</p> + +<p>2. Milk and eggs, fodder, wood, poultry, and feathers, omitted, gross +products, estimated at $350,000,000.</p> + +<p>3. Gross earnings of trade and commerce, including freights, &c., by +land and water, $1,000,000,000.</p> + +<p>4. Gross earnings of all other pursuits and business, including all +other omissions, $1,000,000,000.</p> + +<p>Total gross products of 1860, as thus estimated, $8,140,000,000, of +which the amount for the Free States, as estimated, is $6,558,334,000, +and for the Slave States, $1,581,666,000.</p> + +<p>I have heretofore referred to the vast influence of <i>education</i> as one +of the principal causes of the greater product <i>per capita</i> in the Free +than in the Slave States, of the much larger number of patents, of +inventions, and discoveries, in the former than in the latter.</p> + +<p>At the April meeting of 1844, upon the request of the Society, I +delivered at Washington (D. C.) the Introductory Address for the +National Institute, in which, up to that date, an account was given by +me of 'the various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen +in the inductive sciences.' On reference to that address, which was +published at its date (April, 1844), with their <i>bulletin</i>, it will be +seen that, from the great Franklin down to Kinnersley, Fitch, Rumsey, +Fulton, Evans, Rush, the Stevenses of New Jersey, Whitney, Godfrey, +Rittenhouse, Silliman, J. Q. Adams, Cleveland, Adrain, Bowditch, Hare, +Bache, Henry, Pierce, Espy, Patterson, Nulty, Morse, Walker, Loomis, +Rogers, Saxton, and many others; these men, with scarcely an exception, +were from the Free States.</p> + + +<h4>EXTRACT.</h4> + +<p>And, first, of electricity. This has been cultivated with the greatest +success in our country, from the time when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> Franklin with his kite drew +down electricity from the thunder cloud, to that when Henry showed the +electrical currents produced by the distant lightning discharge. In +Franklin's day the idea prevailed that there were two kinds of +electricity, one produced by rubbing vitreous substances, the other by +the friction of resinous bodies. Franklin's theory of one electric fluid +in all bodies, disturbed in its equilibrium by friction, and thus +accumulating in one and deserting the other, maintains its ground, still +capable of explaining the facts elicited in the progress of modern +discovery. Franklin believed that electricity and lightning were the +same, and proceeded to the proof. He made the perilous experiment, by +exploring the air with a kite, and drawing down from the thunder cloud +the lightning's discharge upon his own person. The bold philosopher +received unharmed the shock of the electric fluid, more fortunate than +others who have fallen victims to less daring experiments. The world was +delighted with the discoveries of the great American, and for a time +electricity was called Franklinism on the continent of Europe; but +Franklin was born here, and the name was not adopted in England. While +Franklin made experiments, Kinnersley exhibited and illustrated them, +and also rediscovered the seemingly opposite electricities of glass and +resin. Franklin's lightning rod is gradually surmounting the many +difficulties with which it contended, as experience attests the greater +safety of houses protected by the rod, properly mounted, whilst the +British attempt to substitute balls for points has failed. This +question, as to powder magazines, has lately excited much controversy. +Should a rod be attached to the magazine, or should it be placed upon a +post at some distance? This question has been solved by Henry. When an +electrical discharge passes from one body to another, the electricity in +all the bodies in the neighborhood is affected. Henry magnetized a +needle in a long conductor, by the discharge from a cloud, more than a +mile from the conductor. If a discharge passes down a rod, attached to a +powder house, may it not cause a spark to pass from one receptacle for +powder to another, and thus inflame the whole? The electrical plenum, +which Henry supposed, is no doubt disturbed, and to great distances; but +the effect diminishes with the distance. If all the principal conductors +about a building can be connected with a lightning rod, there is no +danger of a discharge; for it is only in leaving or entering a conductor +that electricity produces heating effects; but if not, the rod is safer +at a moderate distance from the building. The rate at which electricity +moved was another of the experiments of Franklin. A wire was led over a +great extent of ground, and a discharge passed through it. No interval +could be perceived between the time of the spark passing to and from the +wire at the two ends. Not long since, Wheatston of England, aided by our +own great mechanic, Saxton, solved the problem. This has induced Arago, +of France, to propose to test the rival theories of light, by similar +means—to measure thus a velocity, to detect which has heretofore +required a motion over the line of the diameter of the earth's orbit.</p> + +<p>In galvanism, our countrymen have made many important discoveries. Dr. +Hare invented instruments of such great power as well to deserve the +names of calorimeter and deflagrator. The most refractory substances +yielded to the action of the deflagrator, melting like wax before a +common fire. Even charcoal was supposed to be fused in the experiments +of Hare and Silliman, and the visionary speculated on the possibility of +black as well as white diamonds. Draper, by his most ingenious galvanic +battery, of two metals and two liquids, with one set of elements, in a +glass tube not the size of the little finger, was able to decompose +water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> Faraday, of England, discovered the principle, that when a +current of electricity is set in motion, or stopped in a conductor, a +neighboring conductor has a current produced in the opposite direction. +Henry proved that this principle might be made available to produce an +action of a current upon itself, by forming a conductor in the whirls of +a spiral, so that sparks and shocks might be obtained by the use of such +spirals, when connected with a pair of galvanic plates, a current from +which could give no sparks and no shocks. Henry's discoveries of the +effects of a current in producing several alternations in currents in +neighboring conductors—the change of the quality of electricity which +gives shocks to the muscles into that producing heat, and <i>vice +versa</i>—his mode of graduating these shocks—his theoretical +investigations into the causes of these alternations—are abstruse, but +admirable; and his papers have been republished throughout Europe. The +heating effects of a galvanic current have been applied by Dr. Hare to +blasting. The accidents which so often happen in quarries may be avoided +by firing the charge from a distance, as the current which heats the +wire, passing through the charge, may be conveyed, without perceptible +diminution, through long distances. A feeble attempt to attribute this +important invention of Dr. Hare to Colonel Pasley, an English engineer, +has been abandoned. This is the marvellous agent by which our eminent +countryman, Morse, encouraged by an appropriation made by Congress, +will, by means of his electric telegraph, soon communicate information +forty miles, from Washington to Baltimore, more rapidly than by +whispering in the ear of a friend sitting near us. A telegraph on a new +plan at that time, invented by Mr. Grout, of Massachusetts, in 1799, +asked a question and received an answer in less than ten minutes through +a distance of ninety miles. The telegraph of Mr. Morse will prove, I +think, superior to all others; and the day is not distant when, by its +aid, we may perhaps ask questions and receive replies across our +continent, from <i>ocean to ocean</i>, thus uniting with steam in enlarging +the limits over which our Republic may be safely extended.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>Many of our countrymen have contributed to the branch which regards the +action of electrified and magnetic bodies. Lukens's application of +magnetism to steel (called <i>touching</i>), the compass of Bissel for +detecting local attraction, of Burt for determining the variation of the +compass, and the observations on the variations of the needle made by +Winthrop and Dewitt, deserve notice and commendation. Not long since, +Gauss, of Germany, invented instruments by which the changes of magnetic +variation and force could be accurately determined. Magnetic action is +ever varying. The needle does not point in the same direction for even a +few minutes together. The force of magnetism, also, perpetually varies. +'True as the needle to the pole' is not a correct simile for the same +place, and, if we pass from one spot to another, is falsified at each +change of our position; for the needle changes its direction, and the +force varies. Enlarged and united observations, embracing the various +portions of the world, must produce important results. The observations +at Philadelphia, conducted by Dr. A. D. Bache, and now continued by him +under the direction of the Topographical Bureau, are of great value, and +will, it is hoped, be published by Congress. Part of them have already +first seen the light in Europe—a result much to be regretted, for we +are not strong enough in science to spare from the national records the +contributions of our countrymen.</p> + +<p>These combined observations, progressing throughout the world, are of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +the highest importance. The University of Cambridge, the American +Philosophical Society, and Girard College have erected observatories; +and one connected with the Depot of Charts and Instruments has been +built in this city last year by the Government, and thoroughly furnished +with instruments for complete observations. The names of Bache, Gillis, +Pierce, Lovering, and Bond are well known in connection with these +establishments.</p> + +<p>A magnetic survey of Pennsylvania has been made by private enterprise, +and the beginning of a survey in New York. Loomis has observed in Ohio, +Locke in Ohio and Iowa, and to him belongs the discovery of the position +of the point of greatest magnetic intensity in the Western World. Most +interesting magnetic observations (now in progress of publication by +Congress) are the result of the toilsome, perilous, and successful +expedition, under Commander Wilkes, of our navy, by whom was discovered +the Antarctic continent, and a portion of its soil and rock brought home +to our country.</p> + +<p>The analogy of the auroral displays with those of electricity in motion, +was first pointed out by Dr. A. D. Bache, whose researches, in +conjunction with Lloyd of Dublin, to determine whether differences of +longitude could be measured by the observations of small simultaneous +changes in the position of the magnetic needle, led to the knowledge of +the curious fact, that these changes, which had been traced as +simultaneous, or nearly so, in the continent of Europe, did not so +extend across the Atlantic.</p> + +<p>Kindred to these two branches are electro-magnetism and +magneto-electricity, connected with which, as discoverers, are our +countrymen Dana, Green, Hare, Henry, Page, Rogers, and Saxton. The +reciprocal machine for producing shocks, invented by Page, and the +powerful galvanic magnet of Henry, are entitled to respectful notice. +This force, it was thought, might be substituted for steam; but no +experiments have as yet established its use, on any important scale, as +a motive power. The fact that an electrical spark could be produced by a +peculiar arrangement of a coil of wire, connected with a magnet, is a +recent discovery; and the first magneto-electric machine capable of +keeping up a continuous current was invented by Saxton.</p> + +<p>Electricity and magnetism touch in some points upon heat. Heat produces +electrical currents; electrical currents produce heat. Heat destroys +magnetism. Melted iron is incapable of magnetic influence. Reduction of +temperature in iron so far decreases the force, that a celebrated +philosopher made an elaborate series of experiments to ascertain whether +a great reduction of temperature might not develop magnetic properties +in metals other than iron. This branch of thermo-electricity has +received from us but little attention. Franklin's experiments, by +placing differently colored cloths in the snow, and showing the depth to +which they sank, are still quoted, and great praise has been bestowed +abroad on a more elaborate series of experiments, by a descendant of +his, Dr. A. D. Bache, proving that this law does not hold good as to +heat, unaccompanied by light. The experiments of Saxon and Goddard +demonstrate that solid bodies do slowly evaporate. It is proper here to +mention our countryman, Count Rumford, whose discoveries as to the +nature and properties of heat, improvement in stoves and gunnery, and in +the structure of chimneys and economy of fuel, have been so great and +useful.</p> + +<p>Light accompanies heat of a certain temperature. That it acts directly +to increase or decrease magnetic force, is not yet proved; and the +interesting experiments made by Dr. Draper, in Virginia, go to show that +it is without magnetic influence. The discussion of this subject forms, +the branch of optics, touching physical science on the one side, the +most refined, and the highest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> range of mathematics on the other. +Rittenhouse first suggested the true explanation of the experiment, of +the apparent conversion of a cameo into an intaglio, when viewed through +a compound microscope, and anticipated many years Brewster's theory. +Hopkinson wrote well on the experiment made by looking at a street lamp +through a slight texture of silk. Joscelyn, of New York, investigated +the causes of the irradiation manifested by luminous bodies, as for +instance the stars. Of late, photographic experiments have occupied much +attention, and Draper has advanced the bold idea, supported by +experiment, that the agent in the so-called photography, is not light, +nor heat, but an agent differing from any other known principle. Henry +has investigated the luminous emanation from lime, calcined with +sulphur, and certain other substances, and finds that it differs much +from light in some of its qualities.</p> + +<p>Astronomy is the most ancient and highest branch of physics. One of our +earliest and greatest efforts in this branch was the invention of the +mariner's quadrant, by Godfrey, a glazier of Philadelphia. The transit +of Venus, in the last century, called forth the researches of +Rittenhouse, Owen, Biddle, and President Smith, near Philadelphia, and +of Winthrop, at Boston. Two orreries were made by Rittenhouse, as also a +machine for predicting eclipses. Most useful observations, connected +with the solar eclipses, from 1832 to 1840, have been made by Paine, of +Boston. We have now well-supplied observatories at West Point, +Washington, Cambridge, Philadelphia, Hudson, Ohio, and Tuskaloosa, +Alabama; and the valuable labors of Loomis, Bartlett, Gillis, Bond, +Pierce, Walker, and Kendall are well known. Mr. Adams, so distinguished +in this branch and that of weights and measures, laid last year the +corner stone of an observatory at Cincinnati, where will soon be one of +the largest and most powerful telescopes in the world. Most interesting +observations as to the great comet of 1843 were made by Alexander, +Anderson, Bartlett, Kendall, Pierce, Walker, Downes, and Loomis, and +valuable astronomical instruments have been constructed by Amasa +Holcomb, of Massachusetts, and Wm. J. Young, of Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to class the brilliant meteors of November the 13th, +1833. If such meteors are periodic, the discovery was made by Professor +Olmsted; and Mr. Herrick, of New Haven, has added valuable suggestions. +The idea that observers, differently placed at the time of appearance +and disappearance of the same meteor, would give the means of +determining differences of longitude, was first applied in our own +country, where the difference of longitude of Princeton and Philadelphia +was determined by observations of Henry and Alexander, Espy and Bache. +In meteorology our countrymen have succeeded well. Dr. Wells, of South +Carolina, elaborated his beautiful and original theory of the formation +of dew, and supported it by many well-devised and conclusive +experiments. The series of hourly observations, by Professor Snell and +Captain Mordecai, are well known; and the efforts of New York and +Pennsylvania, of the medical department of the army, and its present +enlightened head, Dr. Lawson, have much advanced this branch of science. +The interesting question, Does our climate change? seems to be answered +thus far in the negative, by registers kept in Massachusetts and New +York. There are two rival theories of storms. That of Redfield, of a +rotary motion of a wide column of air, combined with a progressive +motion in a curved line. Espy builds on the law of physics, examines the +action of an upmoving column of air, shows the causes of its motion and +the results, and then deduces his most beautiful theory of rain and of +land and water spouts. This he puts to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> test of observation; and in +the inward motion of wind toward the centre of storms, finds a striking +verification of his theory. This theory is also sustained by the +overthrow or injury, in the recent tornado at Natchez, of the houses +whose doors and windows were closed, while those which were open mostly +escaped unhurt. Mr. Espy must be considered, not only here, but +throughout the world, as at the head of this branch of science. This +subject has been greatly advanced by Professor Loomis, whose paper has +been pronounced, by the highest authority, to be the best specimen of +inductive reasoning which meteorology has produced. The most recent and +highly valuable meteorological works of Dr. Samuel Forry are much +esteemed. Many important discoveries in pneumatics were made by Dr. +Franklin and Count Rumford, and the air pump was also greatly improved +by Dr. Prince, of Salem.</p> + +<p>Chemistry, in all its departments, has been successfully pursued among +us. Dana, Draper, Ellet, Emmet, Hare, the Mitchells, Silliman, and +Torrey, are well known as chemical philosophers; and Booth, Boyé, +Chilton, Keating, Mather, R. Rogers, Seybert, Shepherd, and Vanuxen, as +<i>analysts</i>; and F. Bache, Webster, Greene, Mitchell, Silliman, and Hare, +as authors. In my native town of Northumberland, Pennsylvania, resided +two adopted citizens, most eminent as chemists and philosophers, +Priestley and Cooper. The latter, who was one of my own preceptors, was +greatly distinguished as a writer, scholar, jurist, and physician, as +well as a chemist. Priestley, although I do not concur in his peculiar +views of theology, was certainly one of the most able and learned of +ecclesiastical writers, and possessed also a mind most vigorous and +original. His discoveries in pneumatic chemistry have exceeded those of +any other philosopher. He discovered vital air, many new acids, chemical +substances, paints, and dyes. He separated nitrous and oxygenous airs, +and first exhibited acids and alkalies in a gaseous form. He ascertained +that air could be purified by the process of vegetation, and that light +evolved pure air from vegetables. He detected the powerful action of +oxygenous air upon the blood, and first pointed out the true theory of +respiration. The eudiometer, a most curious instrument for fixing the +purity of air, by measuring the proportion of oxygen, was discovered by +Dr. Priestley. He lived and died in my native town, universally beloved +as a man, and greatly admired as a philosopher. Chemistry has actively +advanced among us during the present century. Hare's compound blowpipe +came from his hand so perfect, in 1802, that all succeeding attempts of +Dr. Clark, of England, and of all others, in Europe and America, to +improve upon it or go beyond the effects produced, have wholly failed. +His mode of mixing oxygen and hydrogen gases, the instant before burning +them, was at once simple, effective, and safe. The most refractory +metallic and mineral substances yielded to the intense heat produced by +the flame of the blowpipe. In chemical analysis, the useful labors of +Keating, Vanuxen, Seybert, Booth, Clemson, Litton, and Moss, would fill +many volumes. In organic chemistry, the researches of Clark, Hare, and +Boyé were rewarded by the discovery of a new ether, the most explosive +compound known to man. Mitchell's experiments on the penetration of +membranes by gases, and the ingenious extension of them by Dr. Rogers, +are worthy of all praise. The softening of indiarubber, by Dr. Mitchell, +renders it a most useful article. Dyer's discovery of soda ash yielded +him a competence. Our countrymen have also made most valuable +improvements in refining sugar, in the manufacture of lard oil and +stearin candles, and the preservation of timber by Earle's process. +Sugar and molasses have been extracted in our country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> from the +cornstalk, but with what, if any profit, as to either, is not yet +determined. No part of mechanics has produced such surprising results as +the steam engine, and our countrymen have been among the foremost and +most distinguished in this great and progressive branch. When Rumsey, of +Pennsylvania, made a steamboat, which moved against the current of the +James River four miles an hour, his achievement was so much in advance +of the age, as to acquire no public confidence. When John Fitch's boat +stemmed the current of the Delaware, contending successfully with sail +boats, it was called, in derision, the <i>scheme boat</i>. So the New +Yorkers, when the steamboat of their own truly great mechanic, Stevens, +after making a trip from Hoboken, burnt accidentally one of its boiler +tubes, it was proclaimed a failure. Fulton also encountered unbounded +ridicule and opposition, as he advanced to confer the greatest benefits +on mankind by the application of steam to navigation. So Oliver Evans, +of Pennsylvania (who has made such useful improvements in the flour +mill), was pronounced insane, when he applied to the Legislatures of +Pennsylvania and Maryland for special privileges in regard to the +application of steam to locomotion on common roads. In 1810 he was +escorted by a mob of boys, when his amphibolas was moved on wheels by +steam more than a mile through the streets of Philadelphia to the river +Schuylkill, and there, taking to the water, was paddled by steam to the +wharves of the Delaware, where it was to work as a dredging machine. +Fulton's was the first successful steamboat, Stevens's the first that +navigated the ocean, Oliver Evans's the first high-pressure engine +applied to steam navigation. Stevens's boat, by an accident, did not +precede Fulton's, and Stevens's engine was wholly American, and +constructed entirely by himself, and his propeller resembled much that +now introduced by Ericsson. Stevens united the highest mechanical skill +with a bold, original, inventive genius. His sons (especially Mr. Robert +L. Stevens, of New York) have inherited much of the extraordinary skill +and talent of their distinguished father. The first steamboat that ever +crossed the ocean was built by one of our countrymen, and their skill in +naval architecture has been put in requisition by the Emperor of Russia +and the Sultan of Turkey. The steam machines invented by our countrymen +to drive piles, load vessels, and excavate roads, are most ingenious and +useful. The use of steam, as a locomotive power, upon the water and the +land, is admirably adapted to our mighty rivers and extended territory. +From Washington to the mouth of the Oregon is but one half,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and to +the mouth of the Del Norte but one fourth, of the distance of the +railroads already constructed here; and to the latter point, at the rate +of motion (thirty miles an hour) now in daily use abroad, the trip would +be performed in two days, and to the former in four days. Thus, steam, +if we measure distance by the time in which it is traversed, renders our +whole Union, with its most extended limits, smaller than was the State +of New York ten years since. Steam cars have been moved, as an +experiment, both here and abroad, many hundred miles, at the rate of +sixty miles an hour; but what will be the highest velocity ultimately +attained in common use, either upon the water or the land, is a most +important problem, as yet entirely unsolved. Our respected citizens, +Morey and Drake, have endeavored to substitute the force of explosion of +gaseous compounds for steam. The first was the pioneer, and the second +has shown that the problem is still worth pursuing to solution. An +energetic Western mechanic made a bold but unsuccessful effort to put in +operation an engine acting by the expansion of air by heat; and a +similar most ingenious attempt was made by Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Walter Byrnes, of +Concordia, Louisiana; as also to substitute compressed air, and air +compressed and expanded, as a locomotive power. All attempts to use air +as a motive power, except the balloon, the sail vessel, the air gun, and +the windmill, have thus far failed; but what inventive genius may yet +accomplish in this respect, remains yet undetermined. There is, it is +true, a mile or more of pneumatic railway used between Dublin and +Kingstown. An air pump, driven by steam, exhausts the air from a +cylinder in which a piston moves; this cylinder is laid the whole length +of the road, and the piston is connected to a car above, so that, as the +piston moves forward on the exhaustion of the air in front of it, the +car is also carried forward. The original idea of this pneumatic railway +was derived from the contrivance of an American, quite unknown to fame, +who, as his sign expressed it, showed to visitors a new mode of carrying +the mail,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> more simple, and quite as valuable, practically, as this +atmospheric railway. The submerged propeller of Ericsson, and the +submerged paddle wheel, the rival experiments of our two distinguished +naval officers, Stockton and Hunter, are now candidates for public +favor; and the Princeton on the ocean, as she moves in noiseless +majesty, at a speed never before attained at sea, seems to attest the +value of one of these experiments, while the other is yet to be +determined. The impenetrable iron steam vessel of Mr. Stevens is not yet +completed, nor have those terrific engines of war, his explosive shells, +yet been brought to the test of actual conflict.</p> + +<p>In curious and useful mechanical inventions, our countrymen are +unsurpassed, and a visit to our new and beautiful Patent Office will +convince the close observer that the inventive genius of America never +was more active than at the present moment. The machines for working up +cotton, hemp, and wool, from their most crude state to the finest and +most useful fabrics, have all been improved among us. The cotton gin of +Eli Whitney has altered the destinies of one third of our country, and +doubled the exports of the Union. The ingenious improvements for +imitating medals, by parallel lines upon a plain surface, which, by the +distances between them, give all the effects of light and shade that +belong to a raised or depressed surface, invented by Gobrecht and +perfected by Spencer, has been rendered entirely automatic by Saxton, so +that it not only rules its lines at proper distances and of suitable +lengths, but when its work is done it stops. In hydraulics, we have +succeeded well; and the great aqueduct over the Potomac at Georgetown, +constructed by Major Turnbull, of the Topographical Corps, exhibits new +contrivances, in overcoming obstacles never heretofore encountered in +similar projects, and has been pronounced in Europe one of the most +skilful works of the age.</p> + +<p>The abstract mathematics does not seem so well suited to the genius of +our countrymen as its application to other sciences. Those among us who +have most successfully pursued the pure mathematics, are chiefly our +much-esteemed adopted citizens, such as Nulty, Adrain, Bonnycastle, +Gill, and Hassler. Bowditch was an American, and is highly distinguished +at home and abroad. Such men as Plana and Babbage rank him among the +first class, and his commentary on the 'Mécanique Céleste' of Laplace, +has secured for him a niche in the temple of fame, near to that of its +illustrious author. Anderson and Strong are known to all who love +mathematics, and Fischer was cut off by death in the commencement of a +bright career. And may I here be indulged in grateful remembrance of two +of my own preceptors, Dr. R. M. Patterson and Eugene Nulty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> The first +was the professor at my Alma Mater (the University of Pennsylvania) in +natural philosophy and the application of mathematics to many branches +of science. He was beloved and respected by all the class, as the +courteous gentleman and the profound scholar; and the Mint of the United +States, now under his direction, at Philadelphia, has reached the +highest point of system, skill, and efficiency. In the pure mathematics +Nulty is unsurpassed at home or abroad. In an earlier day, the elder +Patterson, Ellicot, and Mansfield cultivated this branch successfully in +connection with astronomy.</p> + +<p>A new and extensive country is the great field for descriptive natural +history. The beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, insects, shells, plants, +stones, and rocks are to be examined individually and classed; many new +varieties and species are found, and even new genera may occur. The +learned Mitchell, of New York, delighted in these branches. The eminent +Harlan, of Philadelphia, and McMultrie were of a later and more +philosophic school. Nuttall, of Cambridge, has distinguished himself in +natural history, and Haldeman is rising to eminence.</p> + +<p>Ornithology is one of the most attractive branches of natural history. +Wilson was the pioneer; Ord, his biographer, followed, and his friend +Titian Peale; Audubon is universally known, and stands preëminent; and +the learned Nuttall and excellent and enthusiastic Townsend are much +respected. Most of these men have compassed sea and land, and +encountered many perils and hardships to find their specimens. They have +explored the mountains of the North, the swamps of Florida, the prairies +of the West, and accompanied the Exploring Expedition to the Antarctic, +and round the world. As botanists, the Bartrams, Barton, and Collins, of +Philadelphia, Torrey, of New York, Gray and Nuttall of Cambridge, +Darlington, of Westchester, are much esteemed. The first botanical +garden in our country was that of the Bartons, near Philadelphia; and +the first work on botany was from Barton, of the same city. Logan, +Woodward, Brailsford, Shelby, Cooper, Horsfield, Colden, Clayton, +Muhlenburg, Marshall, Cutler, and Hosack, were also distinguished in +this delightful branch.</p> + +<p>A study of the shells of our country has raised to eminence the names of +Barnes, Conrad, Lea, and Raffinesque. The magnificent fresh-water shells +of our Western rivers are unrivalled in the Old World in size and +beauty. How interesting would be a collection of all the specimens which +the organic kingdom of America presents, properly classified and +arranged according to the regions and States whence they were brought! +Paris has the museum of the natural history of France, and London of +Great Britain; but Washington has no museum<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> of the United States, +though so much richer in all these specimens.</p> + +<p>In mineralogy, the work of Cleveland is most distinguished. Shepherd, +Mather, Troost, Torrey, and a few others, still pursue mineralogy for +its own sake; but, generally, our mineralogists have turned geologists, +studying rocks on a large scale, instead of their individual +constituents, and vieing with their brethren in Europe in bold and +successful generalization, and in the application of physical science to +their subject. Maclure was one of the pioneers, and Eaton and Silliman +contributed much to the stock of knowledge. This school has given rise +to the great geological surveys made or progressing in several of the +States. Jackson, in Maine, Hitchcock, in Massachusetts; Vanuxen, Conrad, +and Mather, in New York; the Rogerses, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and +Virginia; Ducatel, in Maryland; Owen and Locke, in the West; Troost, in +Tennessee; Horton, in Ohio; the courageous, scientific, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> lamented +Nicolet, in Missouri, Iowa, and Wisconsin, have made contributions, not +only to the geology of our country, but to the science of geology +itself, which are conceded to be among the most valuable of the present +day. The able reports of Owen and Nicolet were made to Congress, and +deserve the highest commendation.</p> + +<p>In geographical science, the explorations of Lewis and Clark; of Long, +Nicolet, and the able and intrepid Fremont; the effective State survey +of Massachusetts; the surveys of our public lands; the determination of +the boundaries of our States, and especially those of Pennsylvania, by +Rittenhouse and Elliott; of part of Louisiana, by Graham and Kearny; of +Michigan, by Talcott; and of Maine, by Graham; have gained us great +credit. The national work of the coast survey, begun by the late Mr. +Hassler, and prosecuted through all discouragements and difficulties by +that indomitable man, has reflected honor upon his adopted country, +through the Government which liberally supported the work, and through +whose aid it is now progressing, under new auspices, with great +energy.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> The lake survey is also now advancing under the direction of +Captain Williams, of the Topographical Corps. Among the important recent +explorations, is that of the enlightened, untiring, and intrepid +Fremont, to Oregon, which fixes the pass of the Rocky Mountains within +twenty miles of the northern boundary of Texas. Lieutenant Fremont is a +member of the Topographical Corps, which, together with that of +Engineers, contains so many distinguished officers, whose labors, +together with those of their most able and distinguished chiefs, Colonel +Totten and Colonel Abert, fill so large a portion of the public +documents, and are so well known and highly appreciated by both Houses +of Congress and by the country. The Emperor of Russia has entered the +ranks of our Topographical Corps, and employed one of their +distinguished members, Captain Whistler, to construct his great railroad +from St. Petersburg to Moscow. The travels of our countrymen, Stephens, +to Yucatan and Guatemala, to Egypt, Arabia, and Jerusalem, and of Dr. +Grant to Nestoria, have increased our knowledge of geography and of +antiquities, and have added new and striking proofs of the truths of +Christianity.</p> + +<p>Fossil geology occupied much of the time and attention of the great +philosopher and statesman, Jefferson, and he was rewarded by the +discovery of the megatherium. The mastodon, exhumed in 1801, from the +marl pits of New York, by Charles Wilson Peale, has proved but one of an +order of animal giants. Even the tetracaulodon, or tusked mastodon, of +Godman, upon which rested his claims to fame, is not the most curious of +this order, as the investigations of Hayes and Horner have proved. This +order has excited the attention, not only of such minds as Cooper, +Harlan, and Hayes, but has also occupied the best naturalists of France, +Britain, Germany, and Italy.</p> + +<p>Fossil conchology has attracted the attention of Conrad, the Lees, and +the Rogerses, not only calling forth much ingenuity in description and +classification, but also throwing great light upon the relative ages of +some of the most interesting geological formations. The earthquake +theory of the Rogerses is one of the boldest generalizations, founded +upon physical reasoning, which our geologists have produced. In the +parallel ridges into which the Apalachian chain is thrown, they see the +crests of great earthquake waves, propagated from long lines of focal +earthquake action, more violent than any which the world now witnesses. +The geologist deals in such sublime conceptions as a world of molten +matter, tossed into waves by violent efforts of escaping vapors, +cooling, cracking, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> rending, in dire convulsion. He then ceases to +discuss the changes and formation of worlds, and condescends to inform +us how to fertilize our soil, where to look for coal and iron, copper, +tin, cobalt, lead, and where we need not look for either. He is the +Milton of poetry, and the Watt of philosophy. And here let me add, that +the recent application of chemistry to agriculture is producing the most +surprising results, in increasing and improving the products of the +earth, and setting at defiance Malthus's theory of population.</p> + +<p>In medicine, that great and most useful branch of physics, our +countrymen have been most distinguished. From the days of the great +philosopher, physician, patriot, and statesman, Benjamin Rush, down to +the present period, our country has been unsurpassed in this branch; but +I have not time even to give an outline of the eminent Americans, whose +improvements and discoveries in medicine have contributed so much to +elevate the character of our country, and advance the comfort and +happiness of man. Rush, one of the founders of this branch in America, +was one of the signers of our Declaration of Independence, and his +school of medicine was as independent and national as his course in our +Revolutionary struggle. Statistics are chiefly concerned, as furnishing +the facts connected with government and political economy, but they are +also ancillary to physics. The statistical work of Mr. Archibald +Russell, of New York, which immediately preceded the last census, +contained many valuable suggestions, some of which were adopted by +Congress; and had more been incorporated into the law, the census would +have been much more complete and satisfactory. The recent statistical +work of Mr. George Tucker, of Virginia, on the census of 1840, is +distinguished by great talent and research, and is invaluable to the +scholar, the philosopher, the statesman, and philanthropist.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This address was made and published several months before +any electric telegraph line was in operation, and is believed to be the +first prediction of the success of this principle, as +<span class="smcap">Continental</span> or <span class="smcap">Oceanic</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Now only one tenth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> This Idea unquestionably originated in the United States, +but was improved last year, and has been introduced by Mr. Rammel, of +England.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> We now have several such museums in Washington.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Our Coast Survey, as commenced by Hassler, and being +completed by Bache, is admitted in Europe to be the best in the world.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CROSS" id="THE_CROSS"></a>THE CROSS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Holy Father, Thou this day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost a cross upon me lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I tremble as I lift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First, and feel Thine awful gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me tremble not for pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lest I may lose the gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thereby my soul should bless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through mine own unworthiness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let me, drawing deeper breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand more firmly, lest beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy load I sink, and slavishly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dust it crusheth me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bearing this, so may I strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gather to receive at length<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In turn eternal glory's great<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And far more exceeding weight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, I am not crushed. I stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But again Thy helping hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reach to me, my pitying Sire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would bear my burden higher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear it up so near to Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Thou shouldst bear it still with me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He, upon whose careless head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never any load is laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an earthward eye doth oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stoop and lounge too slothfully:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burdened heads are held aloft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a nobler dignity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Thine own strong arm still led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me never backward tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Panic-driven in base retreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The path the Master's steadfast feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unswervingly, if bleeding, trod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto victory and God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The standard-bearer doth not wince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who bears the ensigns of his prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through triumphs, in his galled palm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or turn aside to look for balm?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, for the glory thrice outweighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The petty price of pains he pays!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till the appointed time is past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me clasp Thy token fast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere I lay it down to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Late or early, be impressed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So its stamp upon my soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, while all the ages roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Questionless, it may be known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Shepherd marked me for His own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because I wear the crimson brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the flock washed by His hand—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my passing pain or loss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Signed with the eternal cross.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ENGLISH_PRESS" id="THE_ENGLISH_PRESS"></a>THE ENGLISH PRESS.</h2> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<p>It was in January, 1785, that there appeared, for the first time, a +journal with the title of <i>The Daily Universal Register</i>, the proprietor +and printer of which was John Walter, of Printing House Square, a quiet, +little, out-of-the-way nook, nestling under the shadow of St. Paul's, +not known to one man in a thousand of the daily wayfarers at the base of +Wren's mighty monument, but destined to become as famous and as well +known as any spot of ground in historic London. This newspaper boasted +but four pages, and was composed by a new process, with types consisting +of words and syllables instead of single letters. On New Year's day, +1788, its denomination was changed to <i>The Times</i>, a name which is +potent all the world over, whithersoever Englishmen convey themselves +and their belongings, and wherever the mighty utterances of the sturdy +Anglo-Saxon tongue are heard. It was long before the infant 'Jupiter' +began to exhibit any foreshadowing of his future greatness, and he had a +very difficult and up-hill struggle to wage. <i>The Morning Post</i>, <i>The +Morning Herald</i>, <i>The Morning Chronicle</i>, and <i>The General Advertiser</i> +amply supplied or seemed to supply the wants of the reading public, and +the new competitor for public favor did not exhibit such superior +ability as to attract any great attention or to diminish the +subscription lists of its rivals. <i>The Morning Herald</i> had been started +in 1780 by Parson Bate, who quarrelled with his colleagues of <i>The +Post</i>. This journal, which is now the organ of mild and antiquated +conservatism, was originally started upon liberal principles. Bate +immediately ranged himself upon the side of the Prince of Wales and his +party, and thus his fortunes were secured. In 1781 his paper sustained a +prosecution, and the printer was sentenced to pay a fine of £100, and to +undergo one year's imprisonment, for a libel upon the Russian +ambassador. For this same libel the printers and publishers of <i>The +London Courant</i>, <i>The Noon Gazette</i>, <i>The Gazetteer</i>, <i>The Whitehall +Evening Journal</i>, <i>The St. James's Chronicle</i>, and <i>The Middlesex +Journal</i> received various sentences of fine and imprisonment, together +with, in some cases, the indignity of the pillory. Prosecutions for +libel abounded in those days. Horace Walpole says that, dating from +Wilkes's famous No. 45, no less than two hundred informations had been +laid, a much larger number than during the whole thirty-three years of +the previous reign. But the great majority of these must have fallen to +the ground, for, in 1791, the then attorney-general stated that, in the +last thirty-one years, there had been seventy prosecutions for libel, +and about fifty convictions, in twelve of which the sentences had been +severe—including even, in five instances, the pillory. The law of libel +was extremely harsh, to say the least of it. One of its dogmas was that +a publisher could be held criminally liable for the acts of his +servants, unless proved to be neither privy nor assenting to such acts. +The monstrous part of this was that, after a time, the judges refused to +receive any exculpatory evidence, and ruled that the publication of a +libel by a publisher's servant was proof sufficient of that publisher's +criminality. This rule actually obtained until 1843, when it was swept +away by an act of Parliament, under the auspices of Lord Campbell. The +second was even worse; for it placed the judge above the jury, and +superseded the action of that dearly prized safeguard of an +Englishman's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> liberties, it asserting that it was for the judge alone, +and not for the jury, to decide as to the criminality of a libel. Such +startling and outrageous doctrines as these roused the whole country, +and the matter was taken up in Parliament. Fierce debates followed from +time to time, and the assailants of this monstrous overriding of the +Constitution—for it was nothing less—were unremitting in their +efforts. Among the most distinguished of these were Burke, Sheridan, and +Erskine, the last of whom was constantly engaged as counsel for the +defence in the most celebrated libel trials of the day. In 1791, Fox +brought in a bill for amending the law of libel, and so great had the +change become in public opinion, through the agitation that had been +carried on, that it passed unanimously in the House of Commons. Erskine +took a very prominent part in this measure, and, after demonstrating +that the judges had arrogated to themselves the rights and functions of +the jury, said that if, upon a motion in arrest of judgment, the +innocence of the defendant's intention was argued before the court, the +answer would be, and was, given uniformly, that the verdict of guilty +had concluded the criminality of the intention, though the consideration +of that question had been by the judge's authority wholly withdrawn from +the jury at the trial. The bill met with opposition in the House of +Lords, especially from Lord Thurlow, who procured the postponement of +the second reading until the opinion of the judges should have been +ascertained. They, on being appealed to, declared that the criminality +or innocence of any act was the result of the judgment which the law +pronounces upon that act, and must therefore be in all cases and under +all circumstances matter of law, and not matter of fact, and that the +criminality or innocence of letters or papers set forth as overt acts of +treason, was matter of law, and not of fact. These startling assertions +had not much weight with the House of Lords, thanks to the able +arguments of Lord Camden, and the bill passed, with a protest attached +from Lord Thurlow and five others, in which they predicted 'the +confusion and destruction of the law of England.' Of this bill, Macaulay +says: 'Fox and Pitt are fairly entitled to divide the high honor of +having added to our statute book the inestimable law which places the +liberty of the press under the protection of juries.' Intimately +connected with this struggle for the liberty of public opinion was +another mighty engine, which was brought to bear, and that was the +Public Association, with its legitimate offspring, the Public Meeting. +The power and influence which this organization exerted were enormous, +and, though it was often employed in a bad or unworthy cause—such, for +instance, as the Protestant agitation, culminating in Lord George +Gordon's riots in 1780—yet it has been of incalculable advantage to the +progress of the state, the enlightenment of the nation, and the +advancement of civilization, freedom, and truth. Take, for instance, the +Slave-Trade Association, the object and scope of which are thus +admirably described by Erskine May, in his 'Constitutional History of +England':</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'It was almost beyond the range of politics. It had no +constitutional change to seek, no interest to promote, no prejudice +to gratify, not even the national welfare to advance. Its clients +were a despised race in a distant clime—an inferior type of the +human family—for whom natures of a higher mould felt repugnance +rather than sympathy. Benevolence and Christian charity were its +only incentives. On the other hand, the slave-trade was supported +by some of the most powerful classes in the country—merchants, +shipowners, planters. Before it could be proscribed, vested +interests must be overborne—ignorance enlightened—prejudices and +indifference overcome—public opinion converted. And to this great +work did Granville Sharpe, Wilberforce, Clarkson, and other noble +spirits de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>vote their lives. Never was cause supported by greater +earnestness and activity. The organization of the society +comprehended all classes and religious denominations. Evidence was +collected from every source to lay bare the cruelties and +iniquities of the traffic. Illustration and argument were +inexhaustible. Men of feeling and sensibility appealed with deep +emotion to the religious feelings and benevolence of the people. If +extravagance and bad taste sometimes courted ridicule, the high +purpose, just sentiments, and eloquence of the leaders of the +movement won respect and admiration. Tracts found their way into +every house, pulpits and platforms resounded with the wrongs of the +negro; petitions were multiplied, ministers and Parliament moved to +inquiry and action.... Parliament was soon prevailed upon to +attempt the mitigation of the worst evils which had been brought to +light, and in little more than twenty years the slave trade was +utterly condemned and prohibited.'</p></div> + +<p>And this magnificent result sprang from a Public Association. In this, +the most noble crusade that has ever been undertaken by man, the +newspapers bore a conspicuous part, and though, as might be expected, +they did not all take the same views, yet they rendered good service to +the glorious cause. But this tempting subject has carried us away into a +rather lengthy digression from our immediate topic. To return, +therefore:</p> + +<p>In 1786 there was a memorable action for libel brought by Pitt against +<i>The Morning Herald</i> and <i>The Morning Advertiser</i>, for accusing him of +having gambled in the public funds. He laid his damages at £10,000, but +only obtained a verdict for £250 in the first case, and £150 in the +second. In 1789 John Walter was sentenced to pay a fine of £50, to be +exposed in the pillory for an hour, and to be imprisoned for one year, +at the expiration of which he was ordered to find substantial bail for +his good behavior for seven years, for a libel upon the Duke of York. In +the following year he was again prosecuted and convicted for libels upon +the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Clarence, but, +after undergoing four months of his second term of one year's +imprisonment, he was set free, at the instance of the Prince of Wales. +The last trial for libel, previous to the passing of Fox's libel bill, +was that of one Stockdale, for publishing a defence of Warren Hastings, +a pamphlet that was considered as libellously reflecting upon the House +of Commons. However, through the great exertions of Erskine, his +counsel, he was acquitted.</p> + +<p>In 1788 appeared the first daily evening paper, <i>The Star</i>, which +continued until 1831, when it was amalgamated with <i>The Albion</i>. The +year 1789 is memorable for the assumption of the editorship of <i>The +Morning Chronicle</i> by James Perry, under whose management it reached a +greater pitch of prosperity and success than it ever enjoyed either +before or since—greater, in fact, than any journal had hitherto +attained. One of the chief reasons of this success was that he printed +the night's debates in his next morning's issue, a thing which had never +before been accomplished or even attempted. Another secret of Perry's +success was the wonderful tact with which, while continuing to be +thoroughly outspoken and independent, he yet contrived—with one +exception, hereafter to be noticed—to steer clear of giving offence to +the Government. He is thus spoken of by a writer in <i>The Edinburgh +Review</i>: 'He held the office of editor for nearly forty years, and he +held firm to his party and his principles all that time—a long time for +political honesty and consistency to last! He was a man of strong +natural sense, some acquired knowledge, a quick tact, prudent, +plausible, and with great heartiness and warmth of feeling.' His want of +education, however, now and then betrayed him into errors, and a curious +instance of this is, that on one occasion, when he meant to say +'epithalamia,' he wrote and printed 'epicedia,' a mistake which he +corrected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> with the greatest coolness on the following day thus: 'For +'epicedia' read 'epithalamia.'</p> + +<p>The next event of importance is the appearance of Bell's <i>Weekly +Messenger</i>, in 1796, a newspaper that met with immediate success, and is +the only one of the weeklies of that period which have survived to the +present time. The year '96 is also remarkable for an action brought by +<i>The Telegraph</i> against <i>The Morning Post</i>, for damages suffered by +publishing an extract from a French paper, which purported to give the +intelligence of peace between the Emperor of Germany and France, but +which was forged and surreptitiously sent to <i>The Telegraph</i> by the +proprietors of <i>The Morning Post</i>. The result was that <i>The Telegraph</i> +obtained a verdict for £100 damages. In 1794, <i>The Morning Advertiser</i> +had been established by the Licensed Victuallers of London, with the +intention of benefiting by its sale the funds of the asylum which that +body had recently established. It at once obtained a large circulation, +inasmuch as every publican became a subscriber. It exists to the present +day, and is known by the slang <i>sobriquet</i> of the 'Tub,' an appellation +suggested by its <i>clientèle</i>. Its opinions are radical, and it is +conducted not without a fair share of ability, but, occasionally +venturing out of its depth, it has more than once been most successfully +and amusingly hoaxed. One of these cases was when a correspondent +contributed an extraordinary Greek inscription, which he asserted had +been recently discovered. This so-called inscription was in reality +nothing but some English doggerel of anything but a refined character +turned into Greek.</p> + +<p>In 1797, Canning brought out <i>The Anti-Jacobin</i> as a Government organ, +and Gifford—who began life as a cobbler's apprentice at an +out-of-the-way little town in Devonshire, and afterward became editor of +<i>The Quarterly Review</i> in its palmiest days—was intrusted with its +management. <i>The Anti-Jacobin</i> lasted barely eight months, but was +probably the most potent satirical production that has ever emanated +from the English press. The first talent of the day was engaged upon it; +and among its contributors we find Pitt, Lord Mornington, afterward +Marquis of Wellesley, Lord Morpeth, afterward Earl of Carlisle, +Jenkinson, afterward Earl of Liverpool, Canning, George Ellis, Southey, +Lord Bathurst, Addington, John Hookham Frere, and a host of other +prominent names at the time. The poetry of <i>The Anti-Jacobin</i>—its +strongest feature—has been collected into a volume, which has passed +through several editions. This journal was the first to inaugurate +'sensation' headings; for the three columns which were respectively +entitled 'Mistakes,' 'Misrepresentations,' 'Lies,' and which most +truculently slashed away at the opponents of the political opinions of +<i>The Anti-Jacobin</i>, decidedly come under that category.</p> + +<p>We have now arrived at another era of persecution. Those were ticklish +times, and Pitt, fearing lest revolutionary theories might be +promulgated through the instrumentality of the press, determined to +tighten the reins, and curb that freedom of expression which, after an +interval of rest from prosecution, was manifestly degenerating. Poor +Perry was arraigned on a charge of exhibiting a leaning toward France, +and he and his printer were fined and sent to prison. Pitt really +appears to have had good ground for action, in one instance, at least, +for <i>The Courier</i> had made certain statements which might fairly be +construed as hostile to the Government, and favorable to France. +Moreover, it was stated in the House of Commons by the attorney-general, +that a parcel of unstamped newspapers had been seized in a neutral +vessel bound to France, containing information 'which, if any one had +written and sent in another form to the enemy, he would have committed +the highest crime of which a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> can be guilty.' Among other things, +the departure of the West India fleet under the convoy of two frigates +only was noticed, and the greatest fears were expressed for its safety +in consequence. Another thing mentioned was, that as there was to be a +levy <i>en masse</i> in this country, the French would not be so ill advised +as to come here, but would make a swoop upon Ireland. A bill was brought +forward, the chief provisions of which were that the proprietors and +printers of all newspapers should inscribe their names in a book, kept +for that purpose at the stamp office, in order that the book might be +produced in court on occasion of any trial, as evidence of the +proprietorship and responsibility, and that a copy of each issue of +every newspaper should be filed at the stamp office, to be produced as +good and sufficient evidence of publication. A vehement debate followed, +in the course of which Lord William Russell declared the bill to be an +insidious blow at the liberty of the press; and Sir W. Pulteney said +that 'the liberty of the press was of such a sacred nature that we ought +to suffer many inconveniences rather than check its influence in such a +manner as to endanger our liberties; for he had no hesitation in saying +that without the liberty of the press the freedom of this country would +be a mere shadow.' But the great speech of the debate was that of Sir +Francis Burdett, who did not then foresee that the time would come when +he himself should make an attack upon the press.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The liberty of the press,' he said, 'is of so delicate a nature, +and so important for the preservation of that small portion of +liberty which still remains to the country, that I cannot allow the +bill to pass without giving it my opposition. A good Government, a +free Government, has nothing to apprehend, and everything to hope +from the liberty of the press; it reflects a lustre upon all its +actions, and fosters every virtue. But despotism courts shade and +obscurity, and dreads the scrutinizing eye of liberty, the freedom +of the press, which pries into its secret recesses, discovering it +in its lurking holes, and drags it forth to public detestation. If +a tyrannically disposed prince, supported by an unprincipled, +profligate minister, backed by a notoriously corrupt Parliament, +were to cast about for means to secure such a triple tyranny, I +know of no means he could devise so effectual for that purpose as +the bill now upon the table.'</p></div> + +<p>Spite, however, of this vigorous opposition, the bill passed, and among +other coercive measures it decreed heavy penalties against any +infringement of the stamp act, such as: 'Every person who shall +knowingly and wilfully retain or keep in custody any newspaper not duly +stamped, shall forfeit twenty pounds for each, such unstamped newspaper +he shall so have in custody'—'every person who shall knowingly or +wilfully, directly or indirectly, send or carry or cause to be sent or +carried out of Great Britain any unstamped newspaper, shall forfeit one +hundred pounds,' and 'every person during the present war who shall send +any newspaper out of Great Britain into any country not in amity with +his Majesty, shall forfeit five hundred pounds.' Stringent measures +these, with a vengeance! The onslaught initiated by Parliament was well +seconded by the judges, and Lord Kenyon especially distinguished himself +as an unscrupulous (the word is not one whit too strong) foe to the +press. To such an extent was this persecution carried, that the printer, +publisher, and proprietor of <i>The Courier</i> were fined and imprisoned for +the following 'libel' upon the Emperor Paul: 'The Emperor of Russia is +rendering himself obnoxious to his subjects by various acts of tyranny, +and ridiculous in the eyes of Europe by his inconsistency. He has now +passed an edict prohibiting the exportation of timber deal,' etc. To +fine a man £100 and imprison him for six months for this was a little +overstepping the mark, and a reaction soon followed, as a proof of which +may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> be noticed the act 39th and 40th George III., cap. 72, which allows +the newspaper to be increased from the old regulation size of +twenty-eight inches by twenty to that of thirty inches and a half by +twenty.</p> + +<p>William Cobbett now makes his bow as an English journalist. He was +already notorious in America, as the author of the 'Letters of Peter +Porcupine,' published at Philadelphia; and, upon his return to England, +he projected an anti-democratic newspaper, under the title of <i>The +Porcupine</i>, the first number of which appeared in November, 1800. It was +a very vigorous production, and at once commanded public attention and a +large sale. Nevertheless it was but short lived, for the passions and +fears to which it ministered soon calmed down; and, its occupation being +gone, it naturally gave up the ghost and died. Among other celebrities +who now wrote for the newspapers are Porson, the accomplished but +bibulous Greek scholar and critic; Tom Campbell, several of whose most +beautiful poems first appeared in the columns of <i>The Morning +Chronicle</i>, Charles Lamb, Southey, Wordsworth, and Mackintosh. These +last five wrote for <i>The Morning Post</i>, and raised it, by their +brilliant contributions, from the last place among the dailies—its +circulation had actually sunk to three hundred and fifty before they +joined its ranks—to the second place, and caused it to tread very +closely upon the heels of <i>The Chronicle</i>. Tom Campbell, besides his +poetry, wrote prose articles, and was also regularly engaged as a writer +in <i>The Star</i>. Porson married James Perry's sister, and many scholarly +articles which graced the columns of <i>The Morning Chronicle</i> toward the +close of the eighteenth century are generally believed to have emanated +from his pen. Mackintosh had written foreign political articles in <i>The +Oracle</i> and <i>Morning Chronicle</i>, but, marrying the sister of Daniel +Stuart, the proprietor of <i>The Morning Post</i> and <i>The Courier</i>, he +transferred his services to those journals, as well as occasionally to +<i>The Star</i>, which belonged to a brother of Stuart. Southey and +Wordsworth's contributions to Stuart's papers were principally poetry. +Charles Lamb's contributions were principally short, witty paragraphs, +which he contributed to any of the papers that would receive them, and +for which he received the magnificent remuneration of sixpence each! +Coleridge had first appeared in the newspaper world as a contributor of +poetry to <i>The Morning Chronicle</i>, but was soon after regularly engaged +upon <i>The Morning Post</i> and <i>The Courier</i>. Some of his prose articles +have been collected together into a volume, and republished with the +title of 'Essays on His Own Times.' He was especially hostile to France, +and the best proof of the ability and vigor of his anti-Gallican +articles is that Napoleon actually sent a frigate in pursuit of him, +when he was returning from Leghorn to England, with the avowed intention +of getting him into his power if possible. The First Consul had +endeavored to get him arrested at Rome, but Coleridge got a friendly +hint—according to some from Jerome Bonaparte, and according to others +from the Pope, who assisted him in making his escape. Bonaparte had +probably gained intelligence of the whereabout of Coleridge from a +debate in the House of Commons, in the course of which Fox said that the +rupture of the Peace of Amiens was owing to Coleridge's articles in <i>The +Morning Post</i>, and added that the writer was then at Rome, and therefore +might possibly fall into the hands of his enemy. Napoleon was very much +irritated by the attacks upon him in <i>The Morning Chronicle</i> as well as +by those in Cobbett's <i>Political Register</i>—<i>The Porcupine</i> under a new +name—the <i>Courrier François de Londres</i>—the French <i>emigrés'</i> +paper—and <i>L'Ambigu</i>, which was rather a political pamphlet, published +at periodical intervals, than a regular newspaper. He therefore thought +proper peremptorily to call<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> upon the English Government to put these +papers down with a high hand. But the British cabinet sent this noble +reply:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'His Majesty neither can nor will in consequence of any +representation or menace from a foreign power make any concession +which may be in the smallest degree dangerous to the liberty of the +press as secured by the Constitution of this country. This liberty +is justly dear to every British subject; the Constitution admits of +no previous restraints upon publications of any description; but +there exist judicatures wholly independent of the executive, +capable of taking cognizance of such publications as the law deems +to be criminal; and which are bound to inflict the punishment the +delinquents may deserve. These judicatures may investigate and +punish not only libels against the Government and magistracy of +this kingdom, but, as has been repeatedly experienced, of +publications defamatory of those in whose hands the administration +of foreign Governments is placed. Our Government neither has, nor +wants, any other protection than what the laws of the country +afford; and though they are willing and ready to give to every +foreign Government all the protection against offences of this +nature which the principles of their laws and Constitution will +admit, they can never consent to new-model those laws or to change +their Constitution to gratify the wishes of any foreign power.'</p></div> + +<p>But Napoleon indignantly declined to avail himself of the means of +redress suggested to him, and continued to urge the English Government; +who at length made a sort of compromise, by undertaking a prosecution of +Peltier, the proprietor of <i>L'Ambigu</i>. Mackintosh was his counsel; and +in spite of his speech for the defence, which Spencer Perceval +characterized as 'one of the most splendid displays of eloquence he ever +had occasion to hear,' and Lord Ellenborough as 'eloquence almost +unparalleled,' Peltier was found guilty—but, as hostilities soon after +broke out again with France, was never sentenced. The best part of the +story, however, is, that all the time ministers were paying Peltier in +private for writing the very articles for which they prosecuted him in +public! This did not come out until some years afterward, when Lord +Castlereagh explained the sums thus expended as 'grants for public and +not private service, and for conveying instructions to the Continent +when no other mode could be found.' The trial of Peltier aroused a +strong feeling of indignation in the country; the English nation has +always been very jealous of any interference with its laws at the +dictation of any foreign potentate, as Lord Palmerston on a recent +occasion found to his cost.</p> + +<p>Cobbett was soon after tried for a libel—not, however, upon Napoleon, +but upon the English Government. There must have been an innate tendency +in Cobbett's mind to set himself in opposition to everything around him, +for whereas he had made America too hot to hold him by his +anti-republican views, he now contrived to set the authorities at home +against him by his advanced radicalism. He had to stand two trials in +1804, in connection with Robert Emmet's rebellion. On the second of +these he was fined £500, and Judge Johnson, one of the Irish judges, who +was the author of the libels complained of, retired from his judicial +position with a pension. These reflections in question upon the Irish +authorities would hardly be called libels now-a-days, consisting as they +did chiefly of ridicule and satire, which was, after all, mild and +harmless enough. In 1810, Cobbett got into trouble again. Some militia +soldiers had been flogged, while a detachment of the German Legion stood +by to maintain order. Cobbett immediately published a diatribe against +flogging in the army and the employment of foreign mercenaries. He was +indicted for a 'libel' upon the German Legion, convicted, and sentenced +to two years' imprisonment, to pay a fine of £1,000, and to find +security in £3,000 for his good behavior during seven years—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> sentence +which created universal disgust among all classes, and which was not too +strongly designated by Sydney Smith as 'atrocious.'</p> + +<p><i>The Oracle</i>—which, by the way, boasted Canning among its +contributors—was rash enough to publish an article in defence of Lord +Melville. The House of Commons fired up at this, and, led on by +Sheridan—<i>quantum mutatus ab illo!</i>—Fox, Wyndham, and others, who had +formerly professed themselves friends to the liberty of the press, but +who were now carried away by the virulence of party spirit, caused the +publisher to be brought before them, and made him apologize and make his +submission upon his knees.</p> + +<p>In 1805 appeared <i>The News</i>, a paper started by John Hunt and his +brother Leigh, then but a mere boy, but who had, nevertheless, had some +experience in newspaper writing from having been an occasional +contributor to <i>The Traveller</i>, an evening paper, that was afterward +amalgamated with <i>The Globe</i>, which still retains the double title. The +year 1808 was fruitful in prosecutions for libels, but is chiefly +remarkable for the appearance of Hunt's new paper, <i>The Examiner</i>. This +was conducted upon what was styled by their opponents revolutionary +principles, an accusation which Leigh Hunt afterward vehemently +repudiated. This same year also gave birth to the first religious paper +which had as yet appeared, under the name of <i>The Instructor</i>, as well +as to <i>The Anti-Gallican</i>, which seems to have quickly perished of +spontaneous combustion, and <i>The Political Register</i>, an impudent piracy +of the title of Cobbett's paper, and directed against him. In 1809, +Government passed a bill in favor of newspapers, to amend some of the +restrictions under which they labored. This was done on account of the +high price of paper: and yet in the following year another attempt was +made to exclude the reporters from the House of Commons. These men had +always done their work well and honestly, although in their private +lives some of them had not borne the very best character. A capital +story is told of Mark Supple, an Irish reporter of the old school, who +was employed on <i>The Chronicle</i>. One evening, when there was a sudden +silence in the midst of a debate, Supple bawled out: 'A song from Mr. +Speaker.' The members could not have been more astonished had a +bombshell been suddenly discharged into the midst of them; but, after a +slight pause, every one—Pitt among the first—went off into such shouts +of laughter, that the halls of the House shook again. The +sergeant-at-arms was, however, sent to the gallery to ascertain who had +had the audacity to propose such a thing; whereupon Supple winked at him +and pointed out a meek, sober Quaker as the culprit. Broadbrim was +immediately taken into custody; but Supple, being found out, was locked +up in a solitary chamber to cool his heels for a while, and then having +made a humble apology, to the effect that 'it was the dhrink that did +it,' or something of the kind, was set at liberty. But the reporters at +the period of this unjust and foolish exclusion—for it was successful +for a time—were a very different class of men; and Sheridan told the +House that 'of about twenty-three gentlemen who were now employed +reporting parliamentary debates for the newspapers, no less than +eighteen were men regularly educated at the universities of Oxford or +Cambridge, Edinburgh or Dublin, most of them graduates at those +universities, and several of them had gained prizes and other +distinctions there by their literary attainments.' It was during this +debate that Sheridan uttered that memorable and glowing eulogium upon +the press which has been quoted in the first of the present series of +articles.</p> + +<p>It has been shown that at one time the church was the profession which +most liberally supplied the press with writers; but now the bar appears +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> have furnished a very large share, and many young barristers had +been and were reporters. The benchers of Lincoln's Inn endeavored to put +a stop to this, and passed a by-law that no man who had ever been paid +for writing in the newspapers should be eligible for a call to the bar. +This by-law was appealed against in the House of Commons, and, after a +debate, in which Sheridan spoke very warmly against the benchers, the +petition was withdrawn upon the understanding that the by-law should be +recalled. From that time to the present, writing in the newspapers and +reporting the debates have been the means whereby many of the most +distinguished of our lawyers have been enabled to struggle through the +days of their studentship and the earlier years of their difficult +career.</p> + +<p>The last attempt of the House of Commons against the press culminated in +Sir Francis Burdett's coming forward in its behalf, and, in an article +in Cobbett's paper, among other things he asserted that the House of +Commons had no legal right to imprison the People of England. In acting +thus, Sir Francis amply atoned for the ridiculous attempt which, +prompted by wounded vanity, he had made a few years before to engage the +interference of the House of Commons in his behalf in what he called a +breach of privilege—the said breach of privilege consisting merely in +an advertisement in <i>The True Briton</i> of the resolutions passed at a +public meeting to petition against his return to Parliament. The results +of his bold attack upon the power of the House of Commons, his +imprisonment, the riots, and lamentable loss of life which followed, are +so well known as to render any particularizing of them here unnecessary. +Originating with this affair was a Government prosecution of <i>The Day</i>, +the upshot of which was that Eugenius Roche, the editor—who was also +proprietor of another flourishing journal, <i>The National Register</i>—one +of the most able, honorable, and gentlemanly men ever connected with the +press, of whom it has been truly said that 'during the lapse of more +than twenty years that he was connected with the journals of London, he +never gained an enemy or lost a friend,' was most unjustly condemned to +a year's imprisonment.</p> + +<p>The next important event is the trial of the Hunts for a libel in <i>The +Examiner</i> in 1811. Brougham was their counsel, and made a masterly +defence; and, though Lord Ellenborough, the presiding judge, summed up +dead against the defendants—the judges always appear to have done +so—the jury acquitted them. Yet Brougham in the course of his address +drew the following unfavorable picture of the then state of the press:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The licentiousness of the press has reached to a height which it +certainly never attained in any other country, nor even in this at +any former period. That licentiousness has indeed of late years +appeared to despise all the bounds which had once been prescribed +to the attacks on private character, insomuch that there is not +only no personage so important or exalted—for of that I do not +complain—but no person so humble, harmless, and retired as to +escape the defamation which is daily and hourly poured forth by the +venal crew to gratify the idle curiosity or still less excusable +malignity of the public. To mark out for the indulgence of that +propensity individuals retiring into the privacy of domestic +life—to hunt them down and drag them forth as a laughing stock to +the vulgar, has become in our days with some men the road even to +popularity, but with multitudes the means of earning a base +subsistence.'</p></div> + +<p>Soon after this trial and another provincial one connected with the same +'libel'—one gets quite sick of the word—in which the defendants were +found guilty in spite of Brougham's exertions in their behalf and the +previous verdict of the London jury in the case of the Hunts, a debate +arose in the House of Commons on the subject of <i>ex-officio</i> +informations generally, and especially with regard to their +applicability to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> case of newspapers. In the course of this debate +Lord Folkestone charged the Government with partiality in their +prosecutions, and said: 'It appears that the real rule which guides +these prosecutions is this: that <i>The Courier</i> and the other papers +which support the ministry of the day, may say whatever they please +without the fear of prosecution, whereas <i>The Examiner</i>, <i>The +Independent Whig</i>, <i>The Statesman</i>, and papers that take the contrary +line, are sure to be prosecuted for any expression that may be offensive +to the minister'—an accusation which was decidedly true.</p> + +<p>In 1812 the Hunts were again prosecuted for a libel upon the Prince +Regent, and sentenced to be imprisoned two years, and to pay a fine of +£500. Bat the imprisonment was alleviated in every possible way, as we +gather from Leigh Hunt's charming description of his prison in his +Autobiography.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I papered the walls with a trellis of roses; I had the ceiling +colored with clouds and sky; the barred windows were screened with +venetian blinds; and when my book cases were set up with their +busts and flowers, and a pianoforte made its appearance, perhaps +there was not a handsomer room on that side of the water.... There +was a little yard outside, railed off from another belonging to a +neighboring ward. This yard I shut in with green palings, adorned +it with a trellis, bordered it with a thick bed of earth from a +nursery, and even contrived to have a grass plot. The earth I +filled with flowers and young trees. There was an apple tree from +which we managed to get a pudding the second year. As to my +flowers, they were allowed to be perfect.'</p></div> + +<p>We have now arrived at a period which may almost be called that of the +present, inasmuch as many well-known names which still continue to adorn +our current literature first begin to appear, together with many others, +the bearers of which have but recently departed from among us. Cyrus +Redding, John Payne Collier, and Samuel Carter Hall still survive, and, +it is to be hoped, are far off yet from the end of their honorable +career; and William Hazlitt, Theodore Hook, Lord Campbell, Dr. Maginn, +Dr. Croly, Thomas Barnes, William Jordan, and many others, belong as +much to the present generation as to the past. Among other distinguished +writers must be mentioned Jeremy Bentham and David Ricardo, who +contributed articles of sterling merit upon political economy and +finance to the newspapers, and especially to <i>The Morning Chronicle</i>, in +which journal William Hazlitt succeeded Lord Campbell, then 'plain John +Campbell,' as theatrical critic. Cyrus Redding was at one time editor of +<i>Galignani's Messenger</i>, and was afterward connected with <i>The Pilot</i>, +which was considered the best authority on Indian matters, and in some +way or another, at different times, with most of the newspapers of the +day. John P. Collier wrote in <i>The Times</i> and <i>Morning Chronicle</i>, +Thomas Barnes in <i>The Morning Chronicle</i> and <i>Champion</i>, Croly and S. C. +Hall in <i>The New Times</i>—a newspaper started by Stoddart, the editor of +<i>The Times</i>, after his quarrel with Walter—Maginn in <i>The New Times</i>, +<i>Standard</i>, <i>John Bull</i>, and many others, William Hazlitt in <i>The +Morning Chronicle</i>, <i>Examiner</i>, and <i>Atlas</i>, and Theodore Hook in <i>John +Bull</i>, of which he was the editor.</p> + +<p>In 1815, the advertisement duty, which had hitherto stood at three +shillings, was raised to three shillings and sixpence, and an additional +halfpenny was clapped on to the stamp duty. There were then fifty-five +newspapers published in London, of which fifteen were daily, one hundred +and twenty-two in the provinces of England and Wales, twenty-six in +Scotland, and forty-nine in Ireland.</p> + +<p>And here let us pause to consider the position which the press had +reached. It had survived all the attempts made to crush it; nay, more, +it had triumphed over all its foes. Grateful to Parliament, whenever +that august as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>semblage befriended it, and standing manfully at bay +whenever its liberties had been threatened in either House, it had +overcome all resistance, and Lords and Commons recognized in it a safe +and honorable tribunal, before which their acts would be impartially +judged, as well as the truest and most legitimate medium between the +rulers and the ruled. The greatest names of the day in politics and in +literature were proud to range themselves under its banners and to aid +in the glorious work of extending its influence, developing its +usefulness, and elevating its tone and character; and the people at +large had learned to look upon it as the firm friend of national +enlightenment, and the most trustworthy guardian of their constitutional +liberties.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LIFE_ON_A_BLOCKADER" id="LIFE_ON_A_BLOCKADER"></a>LIFE ON A BLOCKADER.</h2> + + +<p>Life in the camp and in the field has formed the staple of much writing +since the commencement of the war, and all have now at least a tolerable +idea of the soldier's ordinary life. Our sailors are a different matter, +and while we study the daily papers for Army news, we are apt to ignore +the Navy, and forget that, though brave men are in the field, a smaller +proportion of equally brave serve on a more uncertain field, where not +one alone but many forms of death are before them. Shot and shell it is +the soldier's duty to face, and the sailor's as well, but one ball at +sea may do the work of a thousand on shore: it may pass through a +vessel, touching not a soul on board, and yet from the flying splinters +left in its path cause the death of a score; its way may lie through the +boilers, still touching no one, and yet the most horrible of all deaths, +that by scalding steam, result. It may chance to hit the powder +magazine, and sudden annihilation be the fate of both ship and crew; or, +passing below the water line, bring a no less certain, though slower +fate—that which met the brave little Keokuk at Charleston, not many +months since.</p> + +<p>Life at sea is a compound of dangers, and though the old tar may +congratulate himself in a stormy night on being safe in the maintop, and +sing after Dibdin—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Lord help us! how I pitys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All unhappy folks on shore'—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>to the majority of our present Navy, made up as it is, in part at least, +of volunteer officers and men, it is essentially distasteful, and +endured only as the soldier endures trench duty or forced marches—as a +means of sooner ending the Rebellion, and bringing white-winged Peace in +the stead of grim War.</p> + +<p>The history of our ironclads, from their first placing on the stocks, to +the present time, when Charleston engrosses them all, is read with +avidity, but few know anything of life on our blockaders, or, thinking +there is not the dignity of danger associated with them, take little or +no interest in what they may chance to see concerning them. Those who +have friends on blockade duty may be interested to know more of their +daily life than can be crowded into the compass of home letters, and the +writer, one of the squadron off Wilmington, would constitute himself +historian of the doings of at least one ship of the fleet.</p> + +<p>Wilmington, Charleston, and Mobile, alone remain of all the rebel ports, +but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> it is with the first we have to do—where it is, how it looks, &c.</p> + +<p>Right down the coast, some 450 miles from New York, and a hundred or +more from the stormy cape of Hatteras, you will see the river which +floats the merchandise to and from the docks at Wilmington, emptying +into the ocean at Cape Fear, from which it takes its name. The river has +two mouths, or rather a mouth proper, which opens to the south of the +cape, and an opening into the side of the river, north of the cape +called New Inlet. Perhaps more seek entrance by this inlet than the +mouth, which is guarded by Fort Caswell, a strong, regularly built fort, +once in Union hands, mounting some long-range English Whitworth guns. +One other fort has been built here since the commencement of the war. +This inlet is guarded by a long line of earthworks, mounted by Whitworth +and other guns of heavy caliber. Wilmington lies some twenty miles from +the mouth, and fifteen north of New Inlet.</p> + +<p>One great characteristic of this coast is the columns of smoke, which +every few miles shoot up from its forests and lowlands. All along the +coasts may be seen mounds where pitch, tar, and turpentine are being +made. These primitive manufactories for the staple of North Carolina are +in many places close down to the water's edge, whence their products may +easily be shipped on schooners or light-draft vessels, with little +danger of being caught by the blockaders, who draw too much water to +make a very near approach to shore. So much for the coast we guard; now +for ourselves.</p> + +<p>Our vessel, of some thirteen hundred tons, and manned by a crew of about +200 all told, reached blockade ground the early part of March. Our +voyage down the coast had been unmarked by any special incident, and +when at dusk, one spring afternoon, we descried a faint blue line of +land in the distance, and knew it as the enemy's territory, speculation +was rife as to the prospect of prizes. About 11 <span class="smcap">P. M.</span> a vessel +hove in sight, which, as it neared, proved to be a steamer of about half +our tonnage. Our guns were trained upon the craft, but, instead of +running, she steamed up toward us. We struck a light, but it was as loth +to show its brightness as the ancient bushel-hidden candle. A rope was +turpentined, and touched with burning match, but the flame spread up and +down the whole spiral length of the rope torch, to the infinite vexation +of the lighter. Fierce stampings and fiercer execrations swiftly +terrorized the trembling quartermaster, who, good fellow, did his best, +and then, frightened into doing something desperate, made this blaze. We +hailed them while waiting for fire to throw signals, letting them know +who we were; but the wind carried away our shoutings, and the vessel +actually seemed inclined to run us down. Worse yet—what could the +little vixen mean?—a bright light, flashed across her decks, showed +gathering round her guns a swift-moving band of men. Her crew were +training their guns upon us for our swift capture or destruction: she +could not see our heavy weight of metal, for our ports were closed. She +might be a friend, for so her signal lights seemed to indicate; but if +of our fleet, how should we let her know in time to save the loss of +life and irreparable harm a single ball from her might do? She had +waited long enough for friendly signals from us, and the wind, which +swept our shouts from hearing, brought to us from them, first, questions +as to who we were, then threats to fire if we did not quickly tell, and +then orders passed to the men at the foremost gun: 'One point to the +starboard train her!'—words which made their aim on us more sure and +fatal. 'Bear a hand with that fire and torch! Be quick, for God's sake, +or we'll have a shot through us, and that from a friend, unless we blaze +away like lightning with our rockets.' The crew were stepping from the +gun to get out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> way as it was fired; the captain of the gun held +the lock string in his hand; but the instant had not been lost, and our +rockets, springing high in air, told our story. Danger is past: we learn +they are not only friends, but to be neighbors, and steam in together to +our post rather nearer the shore than other vessels here.</p> + +<p>Days pass on in watching, and as yet no foreign sail. We study the line +of our western horizon, and find it well filled in with forts, +embrazures, earthworks, black-nosed dogs of war, and busy traitors. As +time goes on, a new thing opens to the view: a short week ago it seemed +but a molehill: now it has risen to the height of a man, and hourly +increases in size. Two weeks, and now its summit is far above the reach +of spade or shovel throw, and crowned by a platform firmly knit and held +together by well-spliced timbers. As to its object we are somewhat +dubious, but think it the beginning of an earthwork fortress, built high +in order that guns may be depressed and brought to bear on the turrets +of any Monitors which might possibly come down upon this place or +Wilmington.</p> + +<p>At night we draw nearer to the shore, watching narrowly for blockade +runners, which evade us occasionally, but oftener scud away +disappointed. One night or early morning, 3 <span class="smcap">A. M.</span> by the clock, +we tried to heave up anchor; the pin slipped from the shackles, and the +anchor, with forty fathoms of chain attached, slipped and sank to the +bottom in some eight fathoms of water.</p> + +<p>The next day we steamed into our moorings of the previous night and +sought to drag for it. While arranging to do so, we saw a puff of smoke +from the shore. Bang! and a massive cannon ball tore whizzing over our +heads. The shore batteries had us in their range, and the firing from +the far-reaching Whitworth guns grows more rapid. Puff after puff rolls +up from the long line of battery-covered hillocks, under the bastard +flag, and the rolling thunder peals on our ears with the whizzing of +death-threatening balls. Oh! the excitement of watching and wondering +where the next ball will strike, and whether it will crush a hole right +through us, wasting rich human life, and scattering our decks with +torn-off limbs and running pools of blood. Quickly as possible we up +anchor and away, and soon are out of reach of balls, which splash the +water not a ship's length from us. Even then we involuntarily dodge +behind some pine board or other equally serviceable screen; and a +newspaper, if that were nearest, would be used for the same purpose—so +say those who have tasted many a naval fight. In fact, the dodge is as +often after the ball has hit as before, as this story of one of our +brave quartermasters will prove: Under fire from rebel batteries, he +noted the cloud of smoke which burst from one of the fort's +embrazures—watched sharply for the ball—heard the distant roar and its +cutting whiz overhead—watched still further, saw it fall into the sea +beyond, and then sang out to the captain, 'There it fell, sir!' and like +lightning dodged behind a mast, as though the necessity had but just +occurred to him.</p> + +<p>As our rebel friends see their shot falling short of us, the firing +ceases, and thus harmlessly ends the action which for a few moments +threatened so much, teaching us the folly of too near approaches to +land, or attempts to batter down, to which we have often been tempted, +the earthworks daily erecting. It is folly to attempt it, because the +disabling of these few blockade steamers would open the port to all who +choose to barter with our Southern foes; and, <i>en passant</i>, this will +explain why here and elsewhere the rebels build their works under the +very noses of our men-of-war. Thus a vessel runs the blockade, and takes +into them English Whitworth guns, which send balls flying through the +air a good five miles, and whose range is longer than our far-famed +Parrott rifled cannon. These<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> Whitworths they place concealed in +hillsides, or in forests back of the places where they build the regular +fort to protect them. If our vessels approach to batter down these germs +of forts, fire is opened on us from these long rangers, and nine chances +out of ten we are disabled before we can so much as touch them with our +guns; so that for ourselves we accomplish nothing, thereby benefiting +them.</p> + +<p>Week days and Sundays pass on alike as far as outside incident is +concerned, but new features in each other open to view as time goes on. +Naval discipline develops the bump of reverence, or at any rate fosters +it for a time, and to the volunteer in his first days or weeks passed on +board a man-of-war, the dignified captain in the retirement of his cabin +is an object of veneration, and the slight peculiarities of some other +officers, merely ornamental additions to shining characters. On a +Sunday, for instance, in the early part of the cruise, the said bump +receives as it were a strengthening plaster, at the sight of officers +and men in full dress—the first resplendent in gold-banded +caps—multiplied buttons—shining sword hilts, et cetera, et cetera, and +the men in white ducks, blue shirts, et cetera, scattered about the +decks in picturesque groups. The captain, from the fact of his occupying +a private cabin, and seeing the officers merely to give orders or +receive reports in the line of their duty, comes but little in contact +with them, and, as there is a certain idea of grandeur in isolation, +obliges a degree of reverence not accorded to those with whom one is in +constant intercourse. A slight feeling of superiority always exists in +the minds of those of the regular navy over the volunteer officers, and +though at first the ward-room mess all seemed 'hail fellow, well met,' +familiarity develops various traits and tendencies, which, in a mess of +eight or nine, will not be persuaded to form a harmonious whole. Our +lieutenant, for instance, who, in the first days of the cruise, appeared +a compound of all the Christian graces, and a 'pattern of a gentleman,' +develops a pleasant little tendency to swear viciously on slight +provocation, and, though, rather afraid to indulge his propensities to +the full, lest the rules of naval service be violated, and disgrace +follow, still recreates himself privately, by pinching the little +messenger boys till they dance, and gritting his teeth, as if he longed +to do more, but didn't dare. It is wonderful how salt water develops +character. Our (on land) <i>debonnaire</i>, chivalrous executive, is merged +in the swearing blackguard as far as he can be; and yet strange as it +may seem, no man can be braver in time of danger, or apparently more +forgetful of self. Our paymaster, too, has suffered a sea change: the +gentleman is put away with his Sunday uniform, and taken out to air only +when it is politic to do so: wine and cigars, owned by somebody else, +occasion its instant appearance. No man on ship can show more deference +for another's feelings where the captain is concerned; no man more +thorough disregard where the sailors come into question. Yet this man +has also his redeeming points or point, made perceptible by a solitary +remark, remembered in his favor at times when the inclination has been +to call him a hypocritical scoundrel. One of the mess, rather given to +profanity, said to him one day: 'Paymaster, what's the reason you never +swear?' 'Because,' was the answer, 'I never set an example at home which +I would not wish my children to follow, and so I've got out of the way +of it.'</p> + +<p>Various criticisms might be made on officers and men: there are +characters enough among them to furnish material for a volume. Some are +moderately patriotic, but would have been as much so on the other side, +had as strong inducements been held out in the way of 'loaves and +fishes.' Others love the cause for itself, and hold life cheap if its +sacrifice may in any way advance it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> Blockade duty is perhaps a harder +test of this love than actual field service; and as months pass on, it +becomes almost unendurable. The first few days can be taken up in sight +seeing on board, and the most novel of these said sights is the drill +which follows the daily call to quarters. The rapid roll of the drum is +the signal: here, there, everywhere, on berth deck, spar deck, quarter +deck, men spring to their feet, jump from their hammocks, and every door +and passage way is blocked up by the crowd, who rush to their respective +quarters, and about the armory, each seeking to be the first, who, fully +equipped with cutlass, gun, and sabre-bayonet affixed, shall be in his +place. Another instant, and all stand about their several guns in rows, +awaiting orders from their officers, who sing out in clear commanding +tones, as though a real fight were impending: 'Pass 9-inch shell and +load!' They drive it home. 'Now run out! train her two points off port +quarter; elevate for five hundred yards! Fire! Run her in! Run out +starboard gun! Run her home! Train her three points off starboard +quarter! Fire!'</p> + +<p>High up on the bridge of the hurricane deck, stands the first +lieutenant, overlooking the men as they work the guns, train, load, run +out, and mimic fire. Suddenly he shouts through the trumpet: 'Boarders +and pikemen at port quarter! First boarders advance! Second boarders +advance! Repel boarders! Retreat boarders! Pikemen cover cutlass +division! Fire! Repel boarders!' The second hand scarcely sweeps over a +quarter of its dial before the men have crowded around the port +bulwarks, and are slashing the air with a most Quixotic fury—then +crouch on bent knee, to make ready their pistols, while in their rear, +marines and pikemen, musket and rifle armed, snap their pieces, and pour +into an imaginary foe a vast volley of imaginary balls; then pierce the +air with savage bayonet thrusts. The farce, and yet a most useful farce, +is gone through with. The retreat is ordered to be beat, and all retire; +refill the armory with their deadly rifles and side arms, and then +return to their respective watches, work, or recreation—some gathering +round a canvas checker board; some polishing up bright work; others +making pants, shirts, or coats, or braiding light straw hats. Some are +aloft, and watching with eager eyes to catch the first glimpse of a sail +on the distant horizon; and this he must do from his loftly outlook +before the officer of the deck or quartermaster espies one, as they +sweep the sky with their long-reaching glasses—else he may suffer +reprimand and prison fare.</p> + +<p>These and our meals are epochs which measure out the time, between which +the minutes and hours pass most wearily, and are filled with longings +for home or some welcome words from there, the next meal, or the drum +beat to quarters. Said one to me whose time is not used up as is that of +the watch officers, by four-hour watches twice in the twenty-four hours: +'When breakfast's done, the next thing I look forward to is dinner, and +when that's done, I look for supper time, and then wait in patience till +the clock strikes ten, and the 'master at arms' knocks at our several +doors, saying: 'Four bells, gentlemen; lights out, sirs.'' So time drags +often for weeks together. No new excitement fills the head with thought, +and more or less of <i>ennui</i> takes hold on all. In fact, some consider +life on shipboard not many removes from prison life; and a man +overflowing with the sap of life, whose muscles from head to foot tingle +for a good mile run across some open field, a tramp through a grand +forest, or climb of some mountain crag, and who loves the freedom of +good solid <i>terra firma</i>—he, I say, feels like a close-caged lion.</p> + +<p>After every calm comes a storm, and so, after weeks of listless waiting, +doing nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, a very gale of bustle +comes on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> 'Sail ho!' comes from the lookout aloft. 'One point off our +starboard bow!' 'Man the windlass and up anchor!' shouts the officer of +the deck, as the strange sail bears down steadily toward us, finally +showing signals which tell us she's a friend and brings a mail. The +Iroquois steams out to meet her; their anchors drop, and they hold +friendly confab. We, too, soon come up, and hear that letters, papers, +fresh meat, and ice await us, on the good old Bay State steamer +Massachusetts. We prepare to lower boats and get our goodies, when we +are told from the Iroquois that a sail lies far off to the N. N. E., and +are ordered off on chase. 'It never rains but it pours,' think we. +Letters, goodies, and now a chance at a prize! 'Begone dull care!' 'Ay, +ay, sir!' responds swift-vanishing <i>ennui</i>, as our eyes are strained in +the direction we were told the vessel was seen. No sign of one yet; but +as we enter on our second mile, our lookout cries for the first time: 'A +sail! dead ahead, sir!' After a five miles' run, we near the vessel +sufficiently to make out that she is the brig Perry, one of Uncle Sam's +swiftest sailing vessels, and so we quit chasing, and return to get our +letters and provisions ere the Massachusetts starts again. An hour from +our first meeting we are back, and find her heaving anchor to be off, +for she runs on time, and may not delay here; so haste away with the +boats, or we lose mails, provisions, and all. The boat returns well +laden with barrels of potatoes, quarter of beef, and chunks of ice, but +no mail. 'Letters and papers all sent on board the Iroquois,' says the +Massachusetts; so if we have any, there they are, but no word of any for +us is sent; so with hearts disappointed, but stomachs rejoicing in the +prospect of ice water and fresh meat, we settle down.</p> + +<p>Our tongues, under red-tape discipline, keep mum, but inwardly we +protest against this deprivation, brought about by the wild-goose chase +on which we were ordered. Well, to-morrow the State of Georgia is +expected down from Beaufort, and she will bring us a mail, we hope. The +morrow comes, and at daydawn she heaves in sight, just halting as she +nears the flagship, to report herself returned all right, and then down +toward us—with a mail, we trust. She is hardly ten ship's lengths away, +when she spies a sail to southward, notifies us, and we both make chase. +She is deeply laden, we but lightly, so we soon outstrip her, and +overtake the sail, which is a schooner, and looks suspicious, very. We +order her to 'heave to,' which order is wilfully or unwittingly +misunderstood. At any rate she does not slacken her speed, till she +finds our guns brought to bear, and we nearly running her down. Then she +stops: we send a boat with officers and men to board her and see if we +have really a prize, and all is excitement. One officer offers his share +for ten dollars—another for twenty—a third for a V, and one for fifty +cents; but would-be salesmen of their shares are far more numerous than +buyers. And soon the boat returns, reporting the vessel as bound for +Port Royal, with coffee, sugar, and sutlers' stores. Her papers are all +right, and she may go on without further hinderance. Now back to the +State of Georgia for our mails. 'Our mails! our mails!' is the hungry +cry of our almost home-sick hearts. As we get within hailing distance, +we sing out for our letters, and are answered: 'While you were chasing +the schooner, we left your mail on board the Iroquois.' 'The devil you +did!' say some in bitter disappointment, but red tape demands that we +wait till the flagship sees fit to signal us to come for letters. The +hours pass wearily. We have waited weeks for home news, and, now that it +is here, we must wait again—a day, two days—a week even, if it suits +the flagship's convenience. At last the signals float and read: 'Letters +for the ——; come and get them.'</p> + +<p>At last! The seals are broken and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> read the news. One tells of a sick +mother, dying, and longing to see her son. Another is from M——'s lady +love: we know by the way he blushes, the fine hand and closely written +pages, and various other symptoms. And our fleet of ironclads are busy +at Charleston. Heaven help the cause they work for! Now we must hasten +with our answers, to have them ready for sending at a moment's notice, +when it is signalled: 'A vessel bound North, and will carry your mails, +if ready.'</p> + +<p>As the sun goes down, the horizon is lit up with bonfires stretching +along the coast for miles. 'These fires mean something,' we say +knowingly; 'depend upon it, the rebs expect some vessel in to-night.' +Nothing came of it, however, though the following afternoon we saw a +steamer with two smoke stacks come down the river and take a look, +perhaps to see as to her chances of getting out that night. The twilight +darkened into night, and night wore on into the small hours, and now we +gazed into the gloom anxiously, for at this time, if any, she would seek +to run out. With straining eyes and the most intense quiet, we listen +for the sound of paddle wheels. A stranger passing along our decks, +seeing in the darkness the shadowy forms of men crouched in listening +attitudes, would have fancied himself among a body of Indians watching +stealthily some savage prey. The night passes on; gray dawn tells of the +sun's approach, and soon his streaming splendor lights up sea and land. +We look to see if our hoped for prize still waits in the river, but +no—she is not there. The day wears on and still no signs of her. If she +has slipped by us, it is through the mouth and not the inlet, we feel +sure, but still are chagrined, and, doubting the possibility of ever +catching one, go to bed with the blues.</p> + +<p>The next day we brighten up a little, to be saddened the more, for the +Massachusetts on her return trip tells us that, so far from there being +good news from Charleston, we have only the worst to hear. The brave +little Keokuk is riddled with balls and sunk, and the fleet of ironclads +have retired from before the city. It is a costly experience, though it +may yet bear precious fruit, for they tell us it has revealed what was +necessary to make our next attack successful. What it is, we cannot +learn, the authorities meaning in the future, doubtless, to wait till +deeds have won them praise, before they make promises of great work.</p> + +<p>Night draws on again, and we move in toward shore. Signal lights are +burning, and huge bonfires, built behind the forests, that their glare +may not light up the water, but their reflection against the background +of the sky shows blockade runners the lay and bearings of the land. +Something will surely be done to-night, and we keep vigilant watch. Two +o'clock <span class="smcap">A. M.</span>, and a sound is heard, whether of paddle wheels, +surf on the beach, or blowing off of steam, we cannot tell. 'It's paddle +wheels,' says our ensign, and reports quickly to the captain. The first +lieutenant springs on deck, a steam whistle is heard, so faint that only +steam-taught ears know the sound, and word is passed to slip our chain +and anchor, and make chase in the direction of the sound. They spring to +the chain and work with a will to unshackle it quickly, but things are +not as they should be; the hammer is not at hand, and the pins not fixed +for speedy slipping out, even when struck a sharp, heavy blow. 'I think +I see a dark object off the direction of the sound we heard, sir,' says +some one. 'Confound the chain! will it never unshackle?' they exclaim, +as they seek to unloose it. At last it slips, we steam up, and are off +in pursuit, but which way shall we turn, and where shall we chase? There +is no guiding sound now, and we paddle cautiously on, spending the +balance of the night in this blind work, feeling for the prize which has +slipped from our fingers, for, as day dawns, we see a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> large steamer, +safe under the walls of the fort. If disappointments make philosophers, +we ought to rank with Diogenes.</p> + +<p>The next day is filled with growl and 'ifs' and 'ands,' and 'if <i>this</i> +had been so and so,' and 'but for that neglect, which we shall know how +to avoid next time,' etc., etc. The afternoon of another day comes on, +and then a sail is descried, and off we go after it. Seven or eight +miles' run brings us close to it; still it pays no attention, but keeps +straight on. The captain orders a ball to be fired across her bows, +which explodes so near as to splash great jets of water over them. Her +crew and captain strike sail, and let go halliards, while they fly +behind masts, down cockpit, or wherever they can get for safety. Finding +no further harm is meant than to bring them to, they answer back our +hail—say they are going to Beaufort, quite a different direction from +the one they are heading—and seem generally confused. As an excuse they +say their compass is out of order, and as they appear to be wreckers, we +allow them to go on without further molestation, and steam back to our +moorings, consoling ourselves by the fact that these bootless chases are +using up coal, and thereby hastening the time of our going to Beaufort +to coal up, where we shall have a chance to step once more on <i>terra +firma</i>.</p> + +<p>Another night passes, and there are no indications of runners having +tried to escape us; but at sunrise we see, far to the south, a schooner, +and soon the flagship signals that a prize has been taken by one of our +fleet. It looks very much like the schooner we let go yesterday, and our +head officers swear, if it <i>is</i> that schooner, never to let another go +so easily. One declares the vessel is loaded with cotton, and worth at +least $100,000, but that, notwithstanding, he will sell his share for +$500 in good gold. No one bids so high. Our ensign offers his for one +dollar, and the paymaster sells his to the surgeon for fifty cents, the +magnificence of which bargain the latter learns from the captain, who +says his share will be about seven and a half cents! We steam alongside, +and learn that our prize is the schooner St. George, bound for +Wilmington, via the Bermudas, with a cargo of salt, saltpetre, etc., and +worth perhaps four thousand dollars. We send our prize list on board the +flagship, and have a nice chat over the capture. It puts us in good +humor, and our vessels <i>chassée</i> around each other till afternoon, when +we separate, to hear shortly that the schooner, on being searched, has +disclosed rich merchandise, gold, Whitworth guns, &c., hidden under her +nominal cargo of salt. So hurra again for our prize list! This <i>almost</i> +makes up for the loss of the steamer.</p> + +<p>As we are on the point of letting go our anchor, the distant boom of +cannon is heard, and the flagship orders us to repair to the seat of +danger with all speed. We haste away, and as we go, hear a third gun +fired. It comes from the direction of the brig Perry, and we cut through +the water toward it, at a twelve-knot rate, for a good half hour, but +hearing no more firing, put in near the shore to watch for the rebel +vessel, as we think those guns were intended to put us on our guard. It +soon grows dark; lights are ordered out, and each man blinds his port. +No talking above a whisper must be heard; we are to be still as an +arctic night. Midnight passes, and lights still flicker along the shore. +It is so dark we cannot see the land, though not more than a mile from +it, and only know what it is by our compass and bearings, and the fires +which lighten up the clouds in spots right over them. One, two, and +three o'clock have passed; no sail or sound yet, and the night so dark +we cannot see a ship's length away. Half past three, and we begin to +heave anchor. The rattle of the chains is just enough to drown the sound +of paddle wheels should a steamer approach, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> sound of her own +wheels would in turn drown our noise; so if one does run in to land, it +may be over us, for any warning we should have of its whereabout.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the acting master jumps, looks for an instant across the bows +into the thick darkness, and bids a boy report to the captain and +lieutenant 'a vessel almost on us.' The man at the windlass is stopped, +unshackles the chain, and lets the anchor go with a buoy attached. +Captain and lieutenant come on deck, and order to blaze away with our +fifty-pound Parrott. Crash! through the still air rings the sharp +report, and the ball goes whizzing through the gloom, in the direction +the vessel was seen. The bright flash of the gun, and the thick cloud of +smoke make the darkness tenfold more impenetrable. For half an hour, we +chase in every direction, then fire again toward the shore. It is just +four; a gray light is working up through the mist, and we catch the +faintest glimpse of the Daylight, one of our fleet. A few minutes later, +and we see a speck near the shore, which the spyglass shows to be the +steamer we chased and fired after in the night. The surf beats about +her; in her frantic efforts to escape, she in the darkness has been run +ashore by our close pursuit. We steam up, to get within range and +destroy, if we cannot take her, when the Daylight, now discovering her, +opens fire. Once, twice, three times she has banged away a broadside at +the rebel sidewheel, and now the batteries on shore in turn open fire on +her. The sea fog hangs like a shroud over and between us and the land, +which looms up mysteriously, stretching its gray length along the +western horizon. Spots of fire bursting from the midst of it, tear +through the fog cloud right at us. It seems, in its vast, vague +undefinedness, rather an old-time dragon, with mouth spouting fire and +thunder, than harmless earth. The smoke of our own guns settles around +us; our ears ring with our own firing: the excitement of the moment is +intense. The jets of flame seem to spout right at one, and the +inclination to dodge becomes very strong. The Daylight has stopped +firing: what is the matter? The fog lifts slightly, and as the flagship +advances to join in the fight, we see that the Daylight is moving back +to reload and let her pass in, which she does, entering the circle of +the rebel fire, between us and them. She finds it out quickly, for their +guns are brought to bear on her, and the balls strike the water +frightfully near. She turns, but, as she leaves the fiery circle, +delivers, one after the other, a whole broadside of guns, followed by +the Penobscot, who too gives them a few iron pills.</p> + +<p>From six to eight <span class="smcap">A. M.</span>, the vessels gather in a cluster at +safe distance from the land, and the commanders of the different vessels +repair on board the flagship to consult what next shall be done. +Meanwhile the spyglass shows crowds of rebels along the shore, and great +efforts seem to be making to get the steamer off. Puffs of steam and +clouds of black smoke from her chimneys show that she is blowing off +steam, firing up, and pushing hard against the shore. Now her paddle +wheels are working; her stern is afloat. Again and again it is reported, +'She's getting herself off the beach; she'll soon be off!' but it does +not appear to hasten the powers that be, who apparently have decided +that, as it will not be high tide till nearly one <span class="smcap">P. M.</span>, she is +safely aground till then.</p> + +<p>Finally, after long delay, it is decided that all hands shall be piped +to breakfast, and we go in for a regular fight afterward. So the +boatswain blows his whistle, and each man goes to his mess. Breakfast is +leisurely gone through with, and then the drum beats all to quarters. +And now it looks like serious work. Men gather round their guns eager +for battle, and the surgeon stands ready, instruments before him, for +whatever may come. But hardly are they ready for the fight, when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +rebel steamer, with its traitor flag floating high in air, has +extricated itself from the beach, and is steaming down the coast as fast +as it can go. The golden opportunity is lost—was lost when the morning +hour was spent in unnecessary discussion, eating, and drinking. Still +they try to make up for lost time by rapid firing now, for she may be +taking in a precious and comforting cargo of arms and other stores of +war. The shots fall close about her, but a little short. Whitworth guns +protect her as she goes, for our steamers dare not venture too near +land, lest some long-range ball smash through their steam chests. The +batteries from which the rebels fired were mostly erected after the +steamer ran ashore, and seemed to consist principally of field pieces +and guns hastily drawn to the spot, with no earthworks to protect them. +This speedy work of theirs was in strong contrast to our slow motions. +With a spyglass we could see telegraph poles stretched along the shore. +The steamer had probably not been ashore one hour, when eight miles +south to the fort, and eight or ten miles north to Wilmington, the news +had spread of its arrival, and busy hands bestirred themselves, dragging +up guns and ammunition to cover their stranded prize. As soon as +sunlight lit up the beach, squads of men were seen pulling at ropes to +work the vessel off the sandy beach. While they were thus engaged, +breakfast was being quietly eaten on board our vessels! We kept up our +fire till the steamer got under the guns of the fort and out of our +reach, and then retired; and so ended our chase in nothing but noise and +smoke.</p> + +<p>We have given the reader a clue to a little of the inefficiency of the +Wilmington blockade. In our next paper, we shall endeavor to picture +some of the effects of naval life on character, and the strange +experiences one can have on shipboard, even in the monotony of life on a +blockader.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BUCKLE_DRAPER_CHURCH_AND_STATE" id="BUCKLE_DRAPER_CHURCH_AND_STATE"></a>BUCKLE, DRAPER; CHURCH AND STATE.</h2> + +<h3><i>FOURTH PAPER.</i></h3> + + +<p>In the first paper of this series, reference was made to the Principles +of <i>Unity</i> and <i>Individuality</i> as dominating over distinctive epochs of +the world's progress; and certain characteristics of each epoch were +pointed out which may be briefly recapitulated. Up to a period of time +which is commonly said to commence with the publication of Lord Bacon's +<i>Novum Organum</i>, the preponderating tendency in all the affairs of +Society—in Government, in Religion, in Thought, in Practical +Activities—was <i>convergent</i> and toward Consolidation, Centralization, +Order, or, in one word, <i>Unity</i>; with a minor reference only to Freedom, +Independence, or Individuality. A change then took place, and the +Tendency to Unity began to yield, as the <i>major</i> or <i>chief</i> tendency in +society, to the opposite or divergent drift toward Disunity or +Individuality, which gradually came to be pre-eminently active. The +Spirit of Disintegration which thus arose, has exhibited and is still +exhibiting itself in Religious affairs, by the destruction of the +integrality of the Church, and its division into numerous sects; and in +the State, by the Democratic principle of popular rule, as opposed to +the Monarchical theory of the supremacy of one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>We have now arrived, in the course of our development as a race, at the +culminating point of the second Stage of Progress—the Era of +<i>Individuality</i>. The predominant tendency of our time in things +Religious, Governmental, Intellectual, and Practical, is toward the +utter rejection of all clogs upon the personal freedom of Man or Woman. +This is seen by the neglect into which institutions of all kinds tend to +fall, and the disrespect in which they are held; in the movements for +the abolition of Slavery and Serfdom; in the recognition of the people's +right of rule, even in Monarchical countries; more radically in the +Woman's Rights Crusade, and in the absolute rejection, by the School of +Reformers known as Individualists, of all governmental authority other +than that voluntarily accepted, as an infringement of the individual's +inherent right of self-sovereignty.</p> + +<p>This Spirit of Individuality, this desire to throw off all trammels, and +to live in the atmosphere of one's own personality, exhibits itself in a +marked degree in the literature of our day. It is the animating spirit +of John Stuart Mill's work 'On Liberty'—a work which, as the writer has +elsewhere shown, was substantially borrowed, although without any openly +avowed acknowledgment of indebtedness, from an American publication. It +is this spirit which has inspired some of the most remarkable of Herbert +Spencer's Essays; and is distinctively apparent in the Fourth one of the +Propositions which Mr. Buckle affirms to be 'the basis of the history of +civilization;' and in the general tenor of Prof. Draper's <i>Intellectual +Development of Europe</i>.</p> + +<p>The gist of this doctrine of Individuality, as it is now largely +prevalent in respect to the institutions of the Church and the State, +and which is squarely affirmed in the proposition above mentioned, is +this: Men and Women do not wish nor do they need a Spiritual Society to +teach them what to believe, nor a Political Society to teach them what +to do. If they are simply left alone, they will thrive well enough. An +Ecclesiastical Organization is not only useless, but positively +injurious; it is a decided hinderance to the progress of humanity; and +the same is true of a Civil Organization, except in so far as it serves +the purpose of protection to person and property.</p> + +<p>It is intended to show in this article the erroneousness of this +doctrine; to point out that Religious and Political Institutions have, +in the past, been great aids to human advancement; that they are still +so; and will be in the future. In this manner we shall meet the +arguments of those who regard such institutions as having always been +unnecessary and a hinderance; and of those who, while considering them +as essential in the past, believe that they are now becoming obsolete, +are detrimental to the cause of human progress, and in the future to be +wholly dispensed with.</p> + +<p>Mankind in its entirety resembles a pyramid. At the base are the +ignorant and superstitious nations of the earth, comprising the great +majority of its inhabitants. A step higher includes the next greatest +number of nations, in which the people are less ignorant and less +degraded, but still very low as respects organization and culture. So, +as we rise in the scale of national development, the lines of inclusion +continually narrow, until we reach the apex, occupied by the most +advanced nation or nations.</p> + +<p>That which is true of nations is so of classes and of individuals +composing classes. Every community has its natural aristocracy, its +superior men and women. These constitute the top of the pyramid of +Society; and comprise those in whom intellectual powers, moral purposes, +and practical capacities are most highly developed and combined. Below +them comes the somewhat larger body of persons who are less endowed in +respect to the qualities just enumer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>ated. Below these comes, in turn, +the still greater congregation who are still less gifted; and so on, the +number increasing as the range of general capacity decreases, until we +reach the layer which embodies the great mass of Society; who, though +measurably affectionate, well-intentioned, and docile, are ignorant, +superstitious, and simple minded, wanting in any large degree of high +moral purpose, and constantly prone to the development of the vicious +and depraved passions incident to this lower stratum of life.</p> + +<p>It is evident that to meet the needs of these widely different grades of +individuals, widely different manners, customs, and institutions are +indispensable. Culture, delicacy, and intelligence have their own +attractions, which are wholly diverse from those of crudeness, +coarseness, and simplicity. The surroundings which would bring happiness +to the lover of art or the man of large mental endowment, would render +miserable the peasant who still lacked the development to appreciate the +elegancies of refinement; while the tidy cottage and plain comforts +which might constitute the paradise of the humble and illiterate rustic, +would be utterly inadequate to the requirements of larger and more +highly organized natures.</p> + +<p>The Constitution and Structure of Society should be of such a nature, +therefore, for the purposes of human growth and happiness, as to allow +the needs and wants of every one of its members to be adequately +supplied. As yet there has been no such arrangement of our social +organization. In nations governed by Monarchical or Aristocratic rule, +the institutions of the country are made to satisfy the demands of the +privileged classes; with scarcely any reference to the wants of the +masses. In Democratic communities, the opposite method is adopted; and +the character of their public organizations and of their public +opinion—the latter always the most despotic of institutions—is +determined by the average notions of the middle class, which ordinarily +furnishes the bulk of the voters; with little consideration to the +desires of the higher or the necessities of the lower orders.</p> + +<p>The institutions of any people, civil or religious, are, therefore, +representative, in the main, of the state of development of the dominant +and controlling class in the community. In a Monarchical or Aristocratic +nation it is the upper portion of the body politic whose condition is +chiefly indicated. In this case, the manners, customs, laws, etc., of +the country are <i>in advance</i> of the great body of the people, who have +yet to grow up to them. In Democratic states, the manners, customs, +laws, etc., conform to the stage of advancement which the majority of +the people have reached. They are thus <i>above</i> the level of the lower +classes, who are not sufficiently developed to participate in their full +benefits; and <i>below</i> the capacity of the superior ranks, who, though +fitted for the right use and enjoyment of more liberal and higher social +adaptations, are nevertheless obliged to cramp their natures and dwarf +their activities to the measure of the capacities of the more numerous +circle of citizens.</p> + +<p>Three classes have thus far been named as the <i>personnel</i> of any +Society. There is, however, a body of individuals which, although made +up of persons from the three classes above indicated, constitute, in a +peculiar sense, a distinct order. This includes the Philosophers, Poets, +Scientists—the Thinkers of all kinds—who are in advance of the best +institutions of either Monarchical or Democratic countries; who see +farther into the future than even the great bulk of men of intelligence +and high development; who especially understand the transient nature and +inadequate provisions of existing societies, and feel the need of better +conditions for intellectual, social, and moral growth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is from this body of men that the incentives to progress chiefly +spring. They behold the errors which encumber old systems—they are, +indeed, too apt to conceive them as <i>wholly</i> composed of errors. To +them, the common and current beliefs appear to be simply superstitious. +It irks them that humanity should wallow in its ignorance and blindness. +They chafe and fret against the organizations which embody and foster +what they are firmly convinced is <i>all</i> false. The Church is, in their +eyes, only a vast agglomeration of priests, some of them self-deceived +through ignorance; most of them not so, but deliberately bolstering up +an obsolete faith for place, profit, and power. The State, both as +existing in the past and now, is likewise, in their understanding, a +tremendous engine of tyranny, keeping the light of knowledge from the +masses; withholding liberty; and hindering the prosperity of mankind.</p> + +<p>That there is much truth in such opinions, too much by far, is not to be +denied. That Society needs regeneration in all departments of its +life—political, religious, industrial, and social—is plainly apparent. +But there is an essential omission in the kind of reform which is +spontaneously taking place at this time, and which is lauded by Mill, +Buckle, Spencer, Draper, and the advanced Thinkers of the day generally, +as the true direction in which change should be made; an omission which +will bring Society to disastrous revolution, even, it may be, to fatal +overthrow, unless supplied.</p> + +<p>The tendency of modern reform in reference to the institutions of Church +and State—and these, in the sense in which they are here used, include +all other institutions—is, as has been said, to do away with the former +altogether, and to restrict the latter to the sole functions of +protection of person and property. Reformatory ideas come, it has also +been said, from that small circle of men and women in Society, who are +in advance of the general development of the age even as represented in +the superior class—meaning by this, the class which, in the average +estimate, occupies the highest position; as, for instance, the +Aristocracy in England, and the Wealthy Families of America.</p> + +<p>Human Society, in all its Institutions, has been, thus far in the +history of the world, a thing of spontaneous, instinctual, or automatic +growth. There has never been and is not to-day, so far as is publicly +known, any <i>Science</i> of Social Organization; any System of Laws or +Principles embodying the true mode of Social Construction. There has not +been, in other words, any discovery of the right Principles upon which +the affairs of mankind should be conducted in reference to their mutual +relationships; and hence, there is no real <i>knowledge</i>, but only +conjecture, of what are the right relations. <i>Might</i> has always been the +accepted Right and the only Standard of Right in the regulation of +Society. The opinions of the Ruling Power give tone to human thought and +action. While Kings and Oligarchies were in the ascendency, the Standard +of Right—the King's or the Oligarchs' will—were based on his or their +ideas of right. Later, when the People secured the conduct of their own +affairs, the voice of the Majority became the voice of God, as expressed +in the popular motto: <i>Vox populi, vox Dei</i>.</p> + +<p>Having then no Standard of true Social Organization, it is natural, +though short sighted, that the reformatory party—perceiving the +insufficiencies and drawbacks of our present Societary Arrangements, +feeling that <i>they</i> have no need of the Governmental and Religious +institutions of the day, that these are, indeed, rather hindrances than +aids to <i>their</i> progress—should think that the people of the whole +world, of the civilized nations, or of one civilized nation, at least, +were in like state of preparation, and that those Institutions could be +safely and advantageously dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>pensed with. There could scarcely be a +greater mistake. There are but comparatively few individuals in the +world who are so highly developed in their intellectual and moral +capacities, and in practical ability also, as to be competent to be a +law unto themselves in the general conduct of life. The great mass of +mankind, even in the most advanced communities, need still the guiding +hand of a wisely constituted and really paternal Government, and the +religious admonitions of a true priesthood. The greatest danger with +which Society is threatened in modern times, arises from the lack of +these essential concomitants of any high civilization. The degradation, +squalor, ignorance, and brutality of the lowest classes; the +irreverence, disrespect, dishonesty, and moral blindness of the middle +orders; and the apathy, heartlessness, unscrupulousness, selfishness, +cupidity, and irreligion of the upper stratum of Society, are alike due +to the absence of a rightly organized State, which should command the +allegiance, and of a rightly constituted Church, which should absorb the +devotion, of the whole community.</p> + +<p>The Constitution of Society must be moulded with reference to the +character of the individuals in it. Of these, some are sagacious, +executive, intelligent, benevolent, sympathetic, philanthropic, +self-reliant; possessed of all the qualities, in fine, which inspire +respect and confidence in their fellow men, and cause them to be +recognized as leaders. Others are timid, ignorant, feeble-minded, +credulous, prone to lean upon others, hero worshippers; people whose +natural bent it is to follow some one in whom they put faith. The +sentiment of loyalty is inherent in the human breast, and will find an +object whereon to fasten. At one time it is an Alexander; then a +Washington, a Napoleon, or a Wellington; at another, a Clay, a Webster, +or a Grant. There are ranks and orders in Society as there are ranks and +orders among individuals. And as the inherent rank of an <i>individual</i> +is, as a general rule, recognized and accorded, no matter what may be +the social constitution of the land in which he lives, so it is with +<i>classes</i>. Theoretically, all individuals and orders are equal in the +United States. But the Law of Nature is stronger than the laws of man; +and the men and women of superior endowment in moral power, intellectual +force, or practical ability, receive the voluntary homage of those who +feel themselves to be inferior.</p> + +<p>In considering the nature of the Institutions which Society needs, we +have simply to consider by what mode we may best provide for the normal +tendencies which ever have been and ever will be active in man. It is +not in our power to change these tendencies, nor to prevent their play. +But we may so order our social polity as to <i>assist</i> their natural +drift, or to <i>obstruct</i> it. In the one case, the affairs of the +community are conducted with harmony, and with the least possible +friction. In the other, they are discordant, and are forced to reach +their proximately proper adjustment through antagonism and struggle. It +is the difference between the ship which flies swiftly to her destined +port with favoring winds, fair skies, and peaceful seas, and one which +struggles wearily to her harbor through adverse gales and stormy waves, +battered, broken, and tempest tossed. The great mass of the people have +always looked to the more highly developed of their race for practical +guidance in the secular concerns of life, and for spiritual guidance in +religious things. That they have done so, and that the Church and the +State have been large factors in the sum of human progress, we shall +presently see. We shall also see brought out more distinctly and clearly +the fact, that the dominant classes in Society, whether the form of +Government be a Monarchy, an Oligarchy, or a Democracy, are, in the +main, and except, perhaps, in transi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>tional epochs, the classes who +possess, in reality, superior capacities of the quality the age most +requires in its leaders.</p> + +<p>In the earliest ages of the world, when brute force was regarded as the +highest attribute of greatness, the men of might, the renowned warriors, +the Nimrods and the Agamemnons, occupied the highest pinnacle of +Society, and received homage from their fellows as supreme men. Of their +age they were the supreme men. To our enlightened epoch, the fighting +heroes of the past are but brutal bullies a little above the level of +the animals whose powers and habits they so sedulously emulated. But if +we plant ourselves in thought back in that savage era, if we reflect +that its habits and instincts were almost wholly physical, that the +chief controlling powers of the time were the arm of might and +superstition, and if we ponder a moment upon the force of will, the +dauntless courage, the inexorable rigor, the terrible energy, the +ceaseless activity, and the gigantic personal strength which must have +combined in a single man to have enabled him to rule so turbulent and so +animal a people; we shall be apt to understand that the only being who +could, in that age, stand first among his fellows, must have been the +superior brute of all.</p> + +<p>If we consider still further the ferocious natures of the men of that +time, we shall perceive the necessity which existed for a strong +Government, regulating all the affairs of Society, and administered by +the most severe and savage chieftain; one who could hold all others in +subjection by the terror of his might, preserve a semblance at least of +order in the community, and protect his subjects from outside wrong.</p> + +<p>But what could hold <i>him</i> in subjection—an irresponsible despot, +without human sympathy, without any awakened sense of moral +responsibility, capricious, self-willed, ambitious, lustful, vindictive, +without self-control, and possessing absolute power over the lives and +property of his subjects? Nothing but the dread of an offended God or +gods. And, as a consolidated despotism, wielded by brute force, was the +best form of Government possible in this age; so a worship based chiefly +upon the incitements and terrors of retributive law—the holding out of +inducements of reward for the good, and of determents of direful +punishment for the wicked, in a future world—was the best religion for +which the time was prepared.</p> + +<p>Tracing the history of the world down to later times, we shall find the +same state of things in society at large, until a period which it is +difficult to fix, but which, we may say, did not fairly begin until the +beginning or the middle of the eighteenth century. Down to that time, +physical force was the dominant element among the nations. The great +warriors were still the prominent men upon the stage of action, though +many of the brutal characteristics of the earlier ages had disappeared. +The people were still ignorant, credulous, childlike, and looked to the +Feudal Aristocracy for direction and support—an Aristocracy founded on +superiority of warlike talent; thus fitly representing the leading +spirit of the age, and the proper guardians of the people in this +warlike time. The Catholic Church, and, at a later period, the +Protestant sects, held the upper classes from oppressing the lower, and +taught the latter to respect and defer to the former. The Feudal Lords +were thus the Social providence and protection of the poor and weak, +thinking and acting for them in things beyond their range of capacity; +while these, in turn, performed the agricultural and other labors to +which they were competent. Each class occupied its appropriate position +and fulfilled its legitimate calling. The superior orders held the +superior situations; and were recognized for what they really were, +leaders and guides. The masses of the community were faithful and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +obedient as followers. The Church inspired each with a feeling of +devotion to duty, protected the subject and controlled the ruler. In its +function of a Governmental arrangement, the Feudal System was admirably +adapted to the necessities of the time. In its religious capacity, the +Catholic Church was the bulwark of Social order during the Middle Ages.</p> + +<p>About the period of time mentioned above, the warlike spirit which had +theretofore pervaded the world and controlled its destinies, began to +yield before the enlightenment of civilization. Commercial, industrial, +and intellectual pursuits commenced to assume the leading position among +the interests of Society. At the same time physical force and hereditary +blood began to give way, as tokens of superior character, to +intellectual greatness and executive commercial ability. The struggle +which then commenced between the Aristocracy of Birth and the +Aristocracy of Genius in all its forms, mental or practical, is still +pending in the Old World. In America it has declared itself in favor of +the latter. The only Noblemen here recognized are those of Nature's +make—those who bear in their organizations and culture the stamp of +superiority. These are, in the main, quickly recognized and +acknowledged; whether they exhibit their genius in the field of +Literature, Science, Invention, Government, Religion, Art—or in the +thousand Commercial and Industrial Enterprises which are characteristic +of this era, and especially of this country.</p> + +<p>With the breaking up of the Feudal System and the advent of modern +commercial activities, a great change took place in the organization of +Society. Under this system a community was, as has been indicated, made +up in such a manner that the whole body formed, so to speak, one family, +having mutual interests; each individual performing those functions—for +the benefit of the whole—for which he was, as a general rule, best +fitted. The most warlike, sagacious, executive—those, in short, who +were best capacitated for leaders and protectors, being at the head, and +looking after the welfare of the whole; while others occupied such +stations and rendered such services as their qualifications made them +adequate to, in subordination to these leaders. Thus the interests of +community were linked immediately together. They formed a grand +Coöperative Association, in which each member recognized his obligations +to the whole body of associates, and to every individual associate, <i>and +measurably fulfilled those obligations as they were understood at that +day</i>. The poor were not left to fall into starvation and misery for the +want of work; there were no paupers; and the rich and powerful classes +did not neglect the affairs of the indigent and weak as those who had no +claim upon them. On the contrary, they felt that mankind were the +children of one Father, and their brethren. They felt that their +superior powers devolved upon them accompanying responsibilities; that +because they were comparatively far seeing and strong, they were bound +by all the nobler sentiments of manhood to watch over and guide the +short sighted and the feeble. Under the inspiration of the Catholic +Church—a Church whose persistent efforts were ever devoted in a marked +degree to the amelioration of the physical no less than the spiritual +conditions of humanity, a Church which strove in the darkest hours of +its history and always to stand between the helpless and suffering and +their oppressors—they accepted this office and fulfilled its functions. +To the beat of their understanding—with the light they then had, +considering the times in which they lived, and the state of the world's +progress—they executed well and faithfully the duties which pertained +to it. Far better, indeed, as we shall presently see, than the opulent +and powerful perform the same duties in our day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the commencement of more peaceful times and the gradual +civilization of Society, the necessity of personal protection which had, +in great measure, given rise to the Feudal System, passed away. Civil +law acquired the protective power which had formerly resided in the arm +of physical force. Travel became safe. The accumulations of industry +were less liable to be wrenched from their legitimate owner by the hand +of the robber. There was a rapid opening up of intelligence among the +masses. Individual energy was stimulated. Commerce received a wonderful +impetus. The bounds of personal freedom were enlarged. Men felt no +longer the necessity of association for the sake of safety. They felt, +moreover, the restless surging of new-born powers within them; and +longed to give them exercise. So the old forms of community life were +slowly broken up. Individuals embarked in various enterprises; now no +longer consociated with others in mutual coöperation, but for their +individual benefit. Thus <i>competitive</i> industry gradually supplanted the +old method of <i>coöperative</i> or <i>associated</i> industry, as seen in its +crude and imperfect form, and the inauguration of the false and selfish +system which still prevails began.</p> + +<p>There could be but one result to a mode of commercial and industrial +traffic and a system of labor and wages which pits the various classes +of Society together in a strife for the wealth of the world, the +fundamental principle of which strife is, <i>that it is perfectly right to +take advantage of the necessities of our neighbors in order to obtain +their means for our own enrichment</i>.</p> + +<p>For this was the principle which instinctively sprang up in the world as +the basis of business, and which has never been changed. Traffic +originated in the necessities of life, and was extended by the desire to +obtain wealth. Each individual perceived some want in his neighbor, and +forthwith proceeded to supply this want, <i>charging just as much for the +thing supplied as the desire for the article or his need of it would +force the person supplied to pay; without reference to the equitable +price, estimated with respect to the labor bestowed in supplying the +want</i>. This principle of trade, originating in the most complete +selfishness, and, viewed from any high moral point, both unjust and +dishonest, has always been and is to-day the fundamental principle of +our Political Economy. That 'a thing is worth what it will bring,' is a +basic axiom of all trade. The only price which is recognized in commerce +is the market price; which is, again, what a commodity will bring. What +a commodity will bring is what the necessities of mankind will make them +pay. Thus is exhibited the curious spectacle of the existence of a +Religion which inculcates good will and love to our neighbor as the +foundation of all true civilization and virtue, coexisting side by side +with a Commercial System, a relic, like slavery, of ancient barbarism, +which forces all men to traffic with each other on the principle that +our neighbor is an object of legitimate prey.</p> + +<p>Of course, in a System of Competitive Industry thus carried on, the +wealth of the world would fall into the hands of those of superior +powers; while the feeble, the stolid, and the ignorant would be left +poor and helpless. And, as the different classes of the community would +be no longer directly associated with each other in their labors and +interests, but would be, on the contrary, competitors—and as the fact +that there had been free competition would be held by all classes to +absolve them from any responsibility as to each other's welfare—it +would inevitably result that the weaker orders should fall into +indigence, degradation, wretchedness, starvation, and premature death.</p> + +<p>Such has been the case. With the advent of Competitive Industry in +Europe and America—to confine ourselves to these countries—with the +disintegration of the Social System in which the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> different classes were +associated in mutually dependent and coöperative efforts; with the +abrogation, on the part of the superior body of citizens, of all +responsibility for, and direct interest in, the affairs and comfort of +the lower orders, has come Pauperism, Social Instability, and a degree +of misery and depravity among the poorest of the masses, never before +known in the history of the world, all things being taken into +consideration. It is a well-known saying of Political Economists, that +the rich are daily growing richer, and the poor poorer. It might be +added with truth: and more degraded and dangerous.</p> + +<p>The effects of this method of Competitive Industry upon the higher +classes have been scarcely less injurious, though in a different +direction. It has bred an intense selfishness and an apathy in respect +to the sufferings of others which no lover of his race can contemplate +without emotions of anguish. Not only is the idea of any effort for the +permanent relief of the poorer classes, for taking them under special +care and making their welfare the business of Society, not entertained +by any large number of persons; but those who do feel keenly the +necessity of such a step, and whose sympathies are aroused by the +sufferings of the masses around them, are too deeply imbued with the +ease-loving spirit of the age, too much wedded to their own comfort, to +take any active measures for the realization of their desires, or to +forego their momentary interests to secure them.</p> + +<p>The rich heap up riches by the iniquitous trade-system which drifts the +earnings of the laborers into their net, and are dead to the call of +those whom they are, unconsciously in most cases, defrauding. Nay! they +even struggle to wring from them the largest possible amount of work for +the smallest possible pay! Day by day they grow more exacting as they +grow wealthier; day by day the laboring orders sink into more harassing +and hopeless conditions. Had the functions of Government in our own +country and in England been those only of protection to persons and +property; had not the general and local authorities in some degree +assisted the oppressed toilers; had not the Church by her admonitions +and pleadings kept some sparks of feeling alive in the breast of the +people of this money-getting age, and stimulated somewhat their +benevolence, the laboring classes of England and America would long +since have sunk to utter destitution. Nor would this have been all. For +when the mass of the people reach such a point; when they are driven to +despair, as they are now fast being driven, and would long ago have been +driven but for the circumstances stated, then comes the terrible +reaction, the frightful revolution, the upheaval of all order, anarchy, +and—who shall tell what else? The Riot of July is still ringing its +solemn warning—all unheeded—in the ears of this people. Society has +yet and speedily to lift the masses out of their ignorance, poverty, +squalor, and accompanying brutality, or to sink awfully beneath their +maddened retaliation.</p> + +<p>In thus criticizing the Industrial Polity of modern times as, in the +respects indicated, inferior to that of the Feudal System, the writer +does not wish to be understood as affirming any more than is really +said. The idea which it is desired to express is this: that the plan +upon which this system was founded—the mutual interdependence of +classes and their reciprocally coöperative labor—was far superior to +the method of Competitive Industry now in vogue; and the true type—when +rightly carried out, without the drawbacks and the evils of the Feudal +System—of Social organization. That there are compensations in our +modern mode, and that, on the whole, Society advances in adopting it, is +true. But it will take a further step in advance when it reverts to that +plan on the footing above indicated; when it adopts the <i>plan</i> without +the evils which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> in an ignorant and undeveloped age necessarily +accompanied it.</p> + +<p>It has not been forgotten that the Church has arrayed itself, to no +small extent, against the advent of new knowledge; that the State has +suppressed the enlarging tendencies of individual liberty; and that both +have been, in this way and in other ways, as Mr. Buckle and Professor +Draper have clearly shown, clogs upon the hurrying wheels of the +nations. It is precisely because they <i>have</i> been and <i>are</i> still so, +that they served and do serve the cause of progress.</p> + +<p>It has been previously stated that new truths come from the body of +advanced Thinkers, who constitute a fourth and comparatively small class +in the community. The discoverer of a new truth sees the immense +advantages which would accrue to Society from a knowledge of it, and is +eager for its immediate promulgation and acceptance; and, if it be of a +practical nature, for its incorporation into the working principles of +the Social polity. This may be true. But there is another verity of +equal importance, which ordinarily he does not take into consideration, +namely: that the great mass of the people who form Society are not +prepared for the change which he contemplates. They comprehend and act +more slowly than the Thinkers. The novelty must be brought home to their +understandings gradually, and assimilated. Old forms of thought, old +associations, encrusted prejudices, the deep-seated opinions of years +must be modified before the new will find a lodgment in their +convictions.</p> + +<p>It is well that the Thinker should urge with impetuous and ardent zeal +his side of the case; that he should insist upon the immediate +adjustment of thought or activity in accordance with advanced right. It +is true that he will not instantly succeed. It is equally true that, +with human nature and Society as they now are, he would destroy all +order if he did. Men can live only in that portion of truth which they +are competent to appreciate. Place the Indian in the heated city, and +make him conform to the usages of city life, he pines and dies. If it +were possible to take away from the ignorant and child-minded races of +the earth or portions of community their superstitious faith, and +substitute the higher truths of a more spiritual interpretation, yet +would they not subserve their religious purposes. So, when the new +verity is held up to view, to the great mass who cannot understand it, +it is no truth, but a lie. They oppose it. Thus the discovery becomes +known. Discussion excites new thought. The Thinkers array themselves +upon one side, urging forward; the State and the Church, representing +the body of Society, take the other, standing sturdily still, or +hesitating, doubting either the validity of the alleged truth or its +uses. Between the clash of contending opinions the new ideas take shape +in the awakened minds which are prepared for them. These come shortly to +be the majority. The State and the Church gradually and imperceptibly +modify their methods or their creeds; and so, safely and without +disaster, humanity takes a step in advance.</p> + +<p>It would be better, indeed, if this slow process were not necessary. +When the whole scope of Fundamental Truths is apprehended; when a +Science of the Universe is known; when truth is no longer fragmentary; +and when there is mutual confidence and coöperation among the different +classes of community, it will not be necessary. But until then, any +attempt to force an instantaneous acceptance of new truths or an +immediate inauguration of new methods upon the mass of the people will +only serve, if successful, to overthrow order in Society, and introduce +Social anarchy in its stead. From such an attempt came the chaos of the +French Revolution;—from an endeavor to inaugurate ideas essentially +correct among a people noway ready to com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>prehend them rightly. The +Conservative Element is as essential to the well-being of society as the +Progressive. To eliminate either is to destroy its balanced action; and +to give it over to stagnation on the one hand, or to frenzy on the +other. The Thinkers of the past have done, and those of the present are +doing, good work for humanity, on the Progressive side. The Church and +the State of the past have done, the Church and the State of the present +are doing, good work for humanity, on the Conservative side. Through the +instrumentality of the Thinkers, the Church, and the State, the world +has been brought slowly, steadily, and safely along the path of +progress, now gaining in one way, and now in another; at times +abandoning one line of advance, only to go ahead upon a different one; +yet always moving onward, and standing to-day, in spite of its seeming +retrogressions, at the highest point of development which it has ever +touched.</p> + +<p>The Church and the State of the future will be the subject of subsequent +consideration.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOOKOUT_MOUNTAIN" id="LOOKOUT_MOUNTAIN"></a>LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For months that followed the triumph the rebels had boasted they wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But which lost to them Chattanooga, thus bringing their triumph to nought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountain-walled citadel city, with its outposts in billowy crowds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grand soarers among the lightnings, stern conquerors of the clouds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For months, I say, had the rebels, with the eyes of their cannon, looked down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the high-crested forehead of Lookout, from the Mission's long sinuous crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till <span class="smcap">Grant</span>, our invincible hero, the winner of every fight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who joys in the strife, like the eagle that drinks from the storm delight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marshalled his war-worn legions, and, pointing to them the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindled their hearts with the tidings that now should be stricken the blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rebel to sweep from old Lookout, that cloud-post dizzily high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence the taunt of his cannon and banner had affronted so long the sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brave <span class="smcap">Thomas</span> the foeman had brushed from his summit the nearest, and now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The balm of the midnight's quiet soothed Nature's agonized brow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A midnight of murkiest darkness, and Lookout's dark undefined mass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaved grandly a frown on the welkin, a barricade nothing might pass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its breast was sprinkled with sparkles, its crest was dotted in gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Telling the camps of the rebels secure as they deemed in their hold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where glimmered the creek of the Lookout, it seemed the black dome of the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had dropped all its stars in the valley, it glittered so over with light:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were voices and clashings of weapons, and drum beat and bugle and tramp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick flittings athwart the broad watchfires that spotted the grays of the camp:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark columns would glimmer and vanish, a rider flit by like a ghost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was movement all over the valley, the movement and din of a host.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas the legion so famed of the 'White Star,' and led on by <span class="smcap">Geary</span> the brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That was chosen to gather the laurel or find on the mountain a grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They crossed the dim creek of the Lookout, and toiled up the sable ascent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the atoms black crawling and struggling in the dense upper darkness were blent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mists, fitful in rain, came at daydawn, they spread in one mantle the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we that were posted below stood and watched with our hearts in our eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We watched as the mists broke and joined, the quick flits and the blanks of the fray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was thunder, but not of the clouds; there was lightning, but redder in ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, warm rose our hopes to the 'White Star,' oh, wild went our pleadings to heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We knew, and we shuddered to know it, how fierce oft the rebels had striven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw, and we shuddered to see it, the rebel flag still in the air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall our boys be hurled back? God of Battles! oh, bring not such bitter despair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the battle is rolling still up, it has plunged in the mantle o'erhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We hear the low hum of the volley, we see the fierce bomb-burst of red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the rock in the forehead of Lookout through the rents of the windy mist shows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horrible flag of the Crossbar, the counterfeit rag of our foes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Portentous it looks through the vapor, then melts to the eye, but it tells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the rebels still cling to their stronghold, and hope for the moment dispels.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the roll of the thunder seems louder, flame angrier smites on the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scene from the fog is laid open—a battle field fought in the sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eye to eye, hand to hand, all are struggling;—ha, traitors! ha, rebels, ye know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the might in the arm of our heroes! dare ye bide their roused terrible blow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They drive them, our braves drive the rebels! they flee, and our heroes pursue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We scale rock and trunk—from their breastworks they run! oh, the joy of the view!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hurrah, how they drive them! hurrah, how they drive the fierce rebels along!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One more cheer, still another! each lip seems as ready to burst into song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, on, ye bold blue-coated heroes! thrust, strike, pour your shots in amain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Banners fly, columns rush, seen and lost in the quick, fitful gauzes of rain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, boys, how your young blood is streaming! but falter not, drive them to rout!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From barricade, breastwork, and riflepit, how the scourged rebels pour out!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We see the swift plunge of the caisson within the dim background of haze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the shreds of platoons inward scudding, and fainter their batteries blaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the mist curtain falls all is blank; as it lifts, a wild picture out glares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wild shifting picture of battle, and dread our warm hopefulness shares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never the braves of the 'White Star' have sullied their fame in defeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they will not to-day see the triumph pass by them the foeman to greet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, no, for the battle is ending; the ranks on the slope of the crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the true Union blue, and our banners alone catch the gleams of the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the Crossbar still flies from the summit, we roll out our cheering of pride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in vain, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! have ye died!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One brief struggle more sees the banner, that blot on the sky, brushed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the broad moon now basking upon us shall yield her rich lustre to-day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She brings out the black hulk of Lookout, its outlines traced sharp in the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All alive with the camps of our braves glancing down with their numberless eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, the darkness below the red dottings is twinkling with many a spark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sergeant Teague thinks them souls of the rebels red fleeing from ours in the dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the light shocks of sound tell the tale, they are battle's fierce fireworks at play!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is slaughter's wild carnival revel bequeathed to the night by the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dawn breaks, the sky clears—ha! the shape upon Lookout's tall crest that we see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the bright beaming flag of the 'White Star,' the beautiful Flag of the Free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How it waves its rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors to vie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Hurrah!' rolls from Moccasin Point, and 'Hurrah!' from bold Cameron's Hill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Hurrah!' peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall stand this, your column of glory, shall shine this, your triumph sublime!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climbed, drove him to bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fought the fierce foe till he turned and fled, bleeding and gnashing, away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fled away from the scene where so late broke his growls and he shot down his glare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he paced to and fro, for the hunter his wild craggy cavern to dare!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! ye girded your souls to the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew the sword, dropped the scabbard, and went in the full conscious strength of your might!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now climbing o'er rock and o'er tree mound, up, up, by the hemlock ye swung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now plunging through thicket and swamp, on the edge of the hollow ye hung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One hand grasped the musket, the other clutched ladder of root and of bough:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trunk the tornado had shivered, the landmark pale glimmering now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the mad torrent's white lightning;—no drum tapped, no bugle was blown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the words that encouraged each other, and quick breaths, ye toiled up alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, long as the mountains shall rise o'er the waters of bright Tennessee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be told the proud deeds of the 'White Star,' the cloud-treading host of the free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The camp-fire shall blaze to the chorus, the picket-post peal it on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How was fought the fierce battle of Lookout—how won <span class="smcap">the Grand Fight of the Sky</span>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ONE_NIGHT" id="ONE_NIGHT"></a>ONE NIGHT.</h2> + + +<h4><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h4> + +<p>From the window at which I write, in these November days, I see a muddy, +swollen river, spread over the meadows into a dingy lake; it is not a +picturesque or a pretty stream, in spite of its Indian name. Beyond it +the land slopes away into a range of long, low hills, which the autumn +has browned; the long swaths of fog stretching between river and hill +are so like to them and to the dissolving gray sky that they all blend +in one general gloom. This picture filling my eye narrows and shapes +itself into the beginning of my story: I see a lazy, dirty river on the +outskirts of a manufacturing city; where the stream has broadened into a +sort of pond it is cut short by the dam, and there is a little cluster +of mills. They all belong to one work, however, and they look as if they +had been set down there for a few months only; 'contract' seems written +all over them, and very properly, for they are running on a Government +order for small arms. There is no noise but an underhum of revolving +shafts and the smothered thud of trip hammers. Ore dust blackens +everything, and is scattered everywhere, so that the whole ground is a +patchwork of black and gray; elsewhere there is snow, but here the snow +is turned to the dingy color of the place. It is very quiet outside, +being early morning yet; a cold mist hides the dawn, and the water falls +with a winter hiss; the paths are indistinct, for the sky is only just +enough lightening to show the east.</p> + +<p>The coal dust around one door shows that the fires are there; a +cavernous place, suddenly letting a lurid glow out upon the night, and +then black again. It is only a narrow alley through the building, making +sure of a good draft; on one side are the piles of coal, and on the +other a row of furnace doors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> The stoker is sitting on a heap of +cinder. He is only an old man, a little stooping, with a head that is +turning ashes color; his eye is faded, and his face nearly +expressionless, while he sits perfectly still on the heap, as if he were +a part of the engine which turns slowly in a shed adjoining and pants +through its vent in the roof. He has been sitting there so long that he +has a vague notion that his mind has somehow gone out of him into the +iron doors and the rough coal, and he only goes round and round like the +engine. Yet he never considered the matter at all, any more than the +engine wanted to use its own wheel, which it turned month after month in +the same place, to propel itself through the world; just so often he +opened and shut each door in its turn, fed the fires, and then sat down +and sat still.</p> + +<p>He was looking at a boy of six, asleep at his feet on a pile of ashes +and cinder, which was not so bad a bed, for the gentle heat left in it +was as good as a lullaby, and Shakspeare long ago told us that sleep has +a preference for sitting by hard pillows. The child was an odd bit of +humanity. An accident at an early age had given it a hump, though +otherwise it was fair enough; and now perhaps society would have seen +there only an animal watching its sleeping cub. Presently the boy woke +and got on his feet, and began to walk toward the cold air with short, +uncertain steps, almost falling against a furnace door. The old man +jumped and caught him.</p> + +<p>'Ta, ta, Nobby,' he said, 'what's thou doin'? Them's hotter nor cender. +Burnt child dreads fire—did knowst 'twas fire?'</p> + +<p>He had a sort of language of his own, and his voice was singularly +harsh, as if breathing in that grimy place so long had roughened his +throat.</p> + +<p>'There, go, Nobby, look thee out an' see howst black she is. Ta, but +it's hawt,' and he rubbed his forehead with his sleeve; 'it's a deal +pity this hot can nawt go out where's cold, an' people needin' it. +Here's hot, there's cold, but 'twill stay here, as it loved the place +'twas born—home, like. Why, Net, that thee?'</p> + +<p>There was no door to the place to knock at or open, but the craunch of a +foot was heard on the coal outside, and a girl came in, moist and +shivering. The stoker set her down in a warm corner, and looked at her +now.</p> + +<p>'Is thee, my little Net?' he repeated.</p> + +<p>'Yes, and I've brought your breakfast, father; 'twas striking six before +I come in.'</p> + +<p>'Too early, my girl, sleep her sleep out. Here's hot an' cosey like, an' +time goes, an' I could wait for breakfast, till I'm home. I'll nawt let +my little girl's sleep.'</p> + +<p>'No, father, I couldn't sleep after five, anyway; and I thought I must +bring your breakfast to-day. You'll walk back through the cold easier +after something hot to eat.'</p> + +<p>'That's my dear little girl. Shiverin' yet, she is. There, lay down on +this,' raking out a heap of fresh ashes, 'them warm an' soft like, an' +go ye to sleep till I go.'</p> + +<p>'No, I must heat your coffee,' she answered, steadying the pot before +one of the furnaces with bits of coal.</p> + +<p>''Ware that door doan' fly back an' hurt ye; them does so sometimes.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I'll be careful. Why, you've got Whitney here!'</p> + +<p>'He come down to-night, Net. By himself, somehow, though I doan' knaw +how Lord kep' his short feet from the river bank an' the floom. An' he +couldn't go back, nor I couldn't go with him. He's slep' on the cender, +nice; all's a cradle to Nobby.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, cinder's a good bed, when the eyes are shut,' said the girl, +bitterly. 'The coffee was smoking hot when I started, but it's cold out +this morning, so there's all this to be done over.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, outdoors has cooled it. The world was hungry, like, an' wanted to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +eat it. Small nubbin' for all the world, but it stole the hot an' the +smell o' the meat.'</p> + +<p>The girl did not reply to this bit of pleasantry. She was about +eighteen, and her face would have been strikingly pretty except for the +eager, hungering look of the eye; but in every motion, every look, and +even the way in which she wore her neat and simple clothing, there was +the word 'unsatisfied.'</p> + +<p>Finally, she brought coffee and meat to him.</p> + +<p>'Here, Net, take ye a sip,' said he; ''twill warm ye nice. Shiverin' yet +she is; 'deed the mornin's clammy cold; there's naw love in thet. Drink! +I cawnt take ye home so, an' my time's most up; it's gettin' light.'</p> + +<p>But she refused it, and sat and watched him as he ate, never taking her +eyes from his face.</p> + +<p>'Father,' she presently said, 'what do you do here?'</p> + +<p>The old stoker laughed: 'Do, my girl? Why, keep up the fires. It's like +I'm a spoke in a wheel or summut. I keeps the fires, an' the fires makes +the angeen go, an' thet turns the works thet makes the pistols, so't +folks may kill theirsel's. There's naw peace anywheres in the world.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean that; but what do you do the rest of the time? Don't you +think? Aren't you tired of this place, father?'</p> + +<p>'Sometimes it's like I think so; but how's the use, my Net? Here's +rough, an' here's rough too,' touching his chest. 'On smooth floors, +such as I couldn't work, if we could get there. How's the use o' bein' +tired? We've got to keep steady at summut. It's best to be content, like +Nobby there; cender's as good a bed as the king's got.'</p> + +<p>'Well, if you <i>were</i> tired, you're going to rest now, so I wish you +were.'</p> + +<p>'What's that mean?'</p> + +<p>'You've got through here, that's all,' cried the girl, with a smothered +sob.</p> + +<p>He set down his pot of coffee and his pail: 'Who told ye so?' he +demanded.</p> + +<p>'Margery Eames.'</p> + +<p>Catching the girl's hand, the old man half dragged her through the +opening into a yard devoted to coal storage. Picking their way through +the spotted mire, they entered a shed where trip hammers were pounding +in showers of sparks, stepped over a great revolving shaft, and came to +a stairway; up, up, to the fifth floor, where the finishing rooms were.</p> + +<p>Faint daylight was straggling through the narrow windows, and most of +the lamps were out, those that were burning being very sickly, as if +they did it under protest. A number of women were employed here, because +much of the work was merely automatic, and just now men were scarce and +women would work cheaper. The women were coarse and rough, rather the +scum of the city—perhaps some might have fallen; but the place was +noisome and grimy, with a sickening smell of oil everywhere, repulsive +enough to be fit for any workers.</p> + +<p>The stoker and his daughter walked to the farther end, and came to where +a little group of women were sitting round a bench; one of the group +tipped a wink to the rest.</p> + +<p>'How's coal an' fires now, Adam?' she said.</p> + +<p>'Did ye tell my girl anythin'?' he demanded.</p> + +<p>'Of course I did.'</p> + +<p>'What was't then?'</p> + +<p>'Well,' said she, wiping her greasy hands on the bosom of her dress, 'I +watched on the road for her this morning, an' I told her.'</p> + +<p>'<i>What?</i>'</p> + +<p>'I told her she needn't try to put on airs, she was only a stoker's +daughter, an' he'll not have that place any more.'</p> + +<p>'Did ye knaw she didn't knaw't?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. What do you care, old dusty? She's got a good place.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, she has, Lord's good for't.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Shall we fight it out, Adam? Hold on till I wipe my hands.'</p> + +<p>'Nawt till one can fight by hersel', Margery. I forgive yer spite, an' +hope Lord woan' bring it back to ye ever. What's said can nawt be +helped. Come, Net.'</p> + +<p>'You're a mean creature, Margery, to tell him that,' said one, after +they were gone. 'I expected to hear you tell him about the place his +girl's got. Lord! he's innocent as a baby about it, an' thinks she's on +the way up, while everybody else knows it, an' knows it's the way down.'</p> + +<p>''Tis that,' said Margery, 'but I've that much decency that I didn't say +it. Let the old man take one thing at a time; he'll know it soon enough +when she fetches up at the bottom.'</p> + +<p>'What did you want to trouble old Adam for?'</p> + +<p>'Because I did!' cried the woman, with a sudden flash; 'because I like +to hurt people. <i>I've</i> been struck, an' stabbed, an' bruised, an' +seared, an' people pointin' fingers at me, whose heart wasn't fouler'n +theirs, if my lips were. It's all cut an' slash in the world, an' the +only way to get on with pain when you're hit, is to hit somebody else. +I'd rather find a soft spot in somebody than have a dollar give me, +sure's my name's Margery. What business has he to have any feelin's, +workin' year after year down there in the coal? Why haven't people been +good to <i>me</i>? I never come up here into this grease; people sent me; an' +when hit's the game I'll do my part. I hope his girl's a comfort to him; +he'll be proud enough of her some time, you see.'</p> + +<p>Adam seated his girl again, opened the doors one after another, and +raked and fed the fires; then he shut them, and stood his rake in the +corner, and seated himself.</p> + +<p>'Well, it's come out,' he said; 'but I didn't mean ye should know, yet. +Margery's ill willed, but it's like she didn't think.'</p> + +<p>'I oughtn't to have told you till after to-morrow, father.'</p> + +<p>'There's how't seems hard, thet it must come to Christmas. An' when I've +been here so long, twenty year noo, Net.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, don't call me that any more, father; I don't like it.'</p> + +<p>'Why nawt, little girl? What should I call her? You used to love to hear +it.'</p> + +<p>'Not now, not now,' said the girl, in a choking voice, 'not to-day, not +till Christmas is over. Call me Jane.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, twenty year ago I come here, an' I've been settin' on them piles +o' cender ever sence. 'Deed I most love them doors an' the rake an' +poker. I've hed my frets about it sometimes, but I doan' want to go +though.'</p> + +<p>'And I say it's a shame in them to use you so!' cried the girl. 'Making +their money hand over hand, and to go and grudge you this ash hole, for +the sake of saving! They'll get no good from such reckoning. I wish +their cruel old mill would burn down!'</p> + +<p>'No, Jane, hold hersel'! Here's fire—should <i>I</i> do it?'</p> + +<p>'It's Cowles's work. I hate him.'</p> + +<p>'The mill's their own, Jane; they gev me what they liked; I've no claim. +Mr. Cowles do as he think best for t'mill.'</p> + +<p>'Then to do it just now! I hope <i>his</i> dinner'll be sweet.'</p> + +<p>'I nawt meant my girl to knaw't till Christmas wor done. But ye'll nawt +mind it, Jane, ye'll nawt! We'll nawt lose Christmas, too, for it come +for us. Mr. Cowles doan' own <i>thet</i>. We'll hev thet anyhow, an' keep it. +She'll nawt fret hersel', my little girl!'</p> + +<p>Jane did not answer.</p> + +<p>'We'll get on somehoo, Lord knaws hoo. We never starved yet, an' you've +got a good place. It'll all be right, an' Christmas day to-morrow!'</p> + +<p>'I got a good place! Oh, father!'</p> + +<p>'Why, Jane, I thought so. Doan' they use her well?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, they do,' quickly answered the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> girl; 'I don't know why I spoke +so. I'm a bit discontented, perhaps, but don't you fear for me, father; +and we mustn't fret—anyway, till after to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'She's nawt content, is she?' said the stoker, settling his head into +his hands. 'I've hed my frets, too, alone here, thinkin' summut like I +should liked to knaw books, an' been defferent, but it's like I'd nawt +been content. Lord knows. 'Deed I loves them doors an' the old place +here, but seems as if summut was sayin' there's better things; it's like +there is, but nawt for such as me. I doan' care for mysel', but I'd like +to hev more to gev my little girl.'</p> + +<p>'You give me all you've got, father, and I ought to be satisfied. But +I'm not—it's not your blame, father, but I know I'm not,' she said, +with sudden energy. 'I don't know what I want; it's something—it seems +as if I was hungry.'</p> + +<p>'Nawt hungry, Jane! She's nawt starvin'!'</p> + +<p>'No, I don't want any more to eat, nor better clothes,' she said, +getting out the words painfully. 'It's something else; I can't tell what +it is, unless I'm hungry.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I knaw I doan' understan' her,' said the man sadly. 'I doan' knaw +my little girl. Is it <i>him</i> she's thinkin' of?'</p> + +<p>The fire-glow on the girl's face hid any change that may have come +there, and she only drew a little farther away, without answering.</p> + +<p>'I've nawt seen many people, Jane, but sometimes I likes an' dislikes, +as Nobby does, an' I doan' like <i>him</i>. An' I doan' like him to be nigh +my girl; there's naw truth in him. I wish she'd say she'll hev naw more +speech with him.'</p> + +<p>'No, no, father, don't ask me that. I don't care for him, but I can't +promise not to speak to him—I do! I do! Oh, father!' sobbed the girl, +'everything comes at once!'</p> + +<p>The old man drew her head on his knee, and even his rough voice grew +softer, talking to his 'little girl.' He bent and kissed her.</p> + +<p>'I wish 'twere nawt so,' he said; 'but mebbe I'm wrong. Lord keep my +little girl, an' we'll nawt fret, but be happy to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>Another man came in with a big tread. It was the engineer, a hale, burly +fellow, with a genuine, rollicking kindness. He tossed the boy into the +air, pinched Jane's cheek, and gave his morning salutation in several +lusty thumps on the stoker's back.</p> + +<p>'Rippin' day this'll be, Adam,' said he; 'say t'won't, an' I'll shake +your ribs loose. Just such a day's I like to breathe in; an' when I've +set all night in my chair there, not sleepin' of course, but seein' that +everlastin' old crosshead go in an' out, an' that wheel turnin' away +just so fast an' no faster, I swear I do go to sleep with my eyes open; +an' when it gets light such a day's this, I get up an' shake +myself—this fashion,' giving him an extra jerk. 'Keep up heart, Adam; I +know it, an' I don't know what Cowles is thinkin' of. I don't want to +crowd you out, an' you ought to be the last one to go. I'd quit 'em for +it myself, afford it or not, only 'twon't do you no good.'</p> + +<p>'Merry Christmas, Mr. Grump!' cried Nobby, rubbing his eyes.</p> + +<p>'You've slept over, my young 'un,' laughed the engineer; 'you're one day +ahead. Of course the palty mill must run to-morrow. Mine don't, I +warrant. My machinery runs on a fat turkey, twenty pound if he's an +ounce. That's me.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, and we've got a turkey too,' chimed Nobby.</p> + +<p>'I warrant you have. An' he had as good an appetite when he was alive as +anybody else's turkey; them fellows do gobble their grub quite +conscientiously, fattin' 'emselves without knowin' or carin' whether +rich or poor'll eat 'em. <i>I'll</i> bet yours's as fat an' good's Mr. +Prescott's, or old Cowles's—damn him! No, I don't mean quite that, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +near Christmas, but he ought to be choked with his own dinner, I'll say +that. Keep up good heart, Adam; an' now clear out, every one! cut home +to yer breakfasts! My watch now, and' I won't have one of ye +round—scud! or wait a minute an' I'll pitch ye out.'</p> + + +<h4><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h4> + +<p>After his breakfast, Adam walked back to the factory. He was wondering, +as he went along, why they should begin with him if they wanted to save +expense. Eighteen dollars a month was a good deal to him, but what was +it to the mill? Every turn of the water wheel, he thought, made more +money than his day's wages. But possibly Mr. Prescott had found out that +his son fancied Jane, and meant to drive them out of town. The very day +that Mr. Prescott saw him first, Mr. Cowles, the manager, told him he +wasn't needed any longer, that the under engineer would see to the +fires. That was punishing him for another's fault—just the way with +rich men; and for a while he almost hated Mr. Prescott.</p> + +<p>Adam Craig had had a peculiar life, as he thought. He wanted education, +money, and such other things, besides something to eat and wear; but +they never came to him, and he drifted into a place at the machine +shops, and got the stamp put on him, and then went his round year after +year with less and less thought of stepping out of it. Yet he always +believed he once had some uncommon stuff in him, and he claimed his own +respect for having had it, even if he had lost it now; he had his own +way of proving it too. His wife was the mirror by which he judged +himself. She was a German woman, whom he found in the city hospital; or +rather she found him, shot through the throat by the accidental +discharge of a rifle. She was just from the fatherland, and could not +speak a word of English; with his swollen head he could not speak at +all; but she watched him through it, and by the signs of that language +which is common to all nations, they managed to understand each other, +and signalized the day of his recovery by marrying. This was the pride +of Adam's whole life, and convinced him he was made capable of being +somebody; he held his wife to be a superior woman, and her appreciation +was a consolation that never left him. 'She knawed me,' he used to say, +'she saw into me better nor I did.' And though he would talk stoutly +sometimes for democracy, he had an odd notion that marrying a +Continental European gave him some sort of distinction; and all his +troubled talks with himself ended in his saying: 'Ah, well, if I'd been +born in Germany, I might been somebody.'</p> + +<p>Adam watched for Mr. Cowles most of the forenoon, determined to ask +about his dismissal; at last the manager strolled through the shops, and +Adam made a desperate effort, and went to him. He turned short about, as +the stoker spoke.</p> + +<p>'Mr. Cowles, was ye told to send me away?'</p> + +<p>'Told! Who should tell me?'</p> + +<p>'But I thought—I thought Mr. Prescott might said summut—'</p> + +<p>'Do you suppose he concerns himself about you? I'm master here, and I +don't ask what I shall do.'</p> + +<p>Adam took hope: 'Hev ye said sure I must go, Mr. Cowles? I've been here +so long, an' noo I'm old. I've got gray at t'mill,' touching his head as +he spoke.</p> + +<p>'You've had your wages regular, haven't you?' said Cowles, roughly. 'I +don't inquire how long you've been here. Would I keep an old lathe that +was worn or that I had no use for, because I'd had it a good while? Stay +round to-day, if you like, and then go.'</p> + +<p>'But eighteen dollars is nawt much to t'mill,' said Adam, humbly; 'doan' +be hard, an' gev me a chance, a chance to help mysel'! T'winter's hard, +an' I've a family!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Did I make your family? You should have thought of that long ago. Stand +out of the way, if you're done.'</p> + +<p>The stoker clung to the doorpost.</p> + +<p>'Summut else I could do—there must be summut—ye knaw summut else, Mr. +Cowles?'</p> + +<p>'Something else to do, you fool! What could you do—run the engine? tend +the planers? If I wanted you at all, I should keep you where you were.'</p> + +<p>He moved off at this. Adam seated himself on the familiar cinder heaps +and grieved in his simple way, for a time feeling almost bitter.</p> + +<p>Little Nobby's deformity was one of the strange things that made Adam +think. Several years before, he had the child with him at the factory +one night, just old enough to walk a little. In Adam's momentary absence +the boy managed to get upon a box near one of the furnace doors, and, +rolling against the blistering iron, was horribly burned; yet +unaccountably he did not die, but grew bent into a scarred, shapeless +body, though his face was a sweet, childish one, innocent of fire. +Nobby, as Adam called him after that, was a silent preacher to the +stoker. When a clergyman asked him once if he was a Christian, he +pointed to Nobby's back:</p> + +<p>'I knaw there's a Lord,' he said,' or else Nobby'd died, burnt so sore +thet way; an' I knaw He's good, or Nobby'd been a fool a'terward, like +children thet burn theirsel's. Saved Nobby from dyin' an' from bein' +worse nor dead, both, Lord meant him good.'</p> + +<p>The boy was Adam Craig's grandson. His firstborn, Tom, was wild, and +went to sea—the old story—leaving wife and unborn child for his father +to look to. Six years had gone—the seventh began at New Year's; the boy +was born, burnt, saved alive, and not idiotic; its mother had died; +Adam's life was outrunning the child's, and he would soon have to leave +it to go on by itself; but his faith in his son's return never shook.</p> + +<p>'Him'll come back,' he would say, simply, and in perfect confidence, 'I +knaw't well. Lord never burnt Nobby for nawt. Him's nawt dead; him'll +come back some time, I knaw.'</p> + + +<h4><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h4> + +<p>Adam went back at noon, and found something else to take his thoughts: +Nobby was in his pains—a sad remnant of his terrible mishap. These were +irregular, and he had been free for several months, but he had been +exposed to the cold to-day. There was little to be done. At such times +Adam could only cry over him, hold him in his arms while he was twisting +his crooked body so that it would hardly stay in or upon anything, and +say:</p> + +<p>'Poor, poor Nobby. Him'll nawt die, Katry; but how can he live? Lord +send back Tom!'</p> + +<p>Jane was busy somewhere, and did not come home till evening. Her father +had been turned out of his place; Nobby was in his pains again, after +they had been hoping he wouldn't have any more; and to-morrow was +Christmas! As she said, everything came at once. Things seemed to swim +before her eyes—Nobby's pain was the most real of all—and as she could +not help him, she wanted to get out of sight. It was all true. Aching +and longing intolerably for something more than she had known, she had +met Will Prescott—and he had loved her—he said so; and he had promised +her books and pictures, and chances for travel and study.</p> + +<p>She went into the best room, already trimmed for to-morrow; the +Christmas tree was clustered with gifts and with candles ready for +lighting, and the motto was on the top, '<i>Gott zur hülfe</i>.' Jane looked +it all over, and her lip quivered.</p> + +<p>'This is pure and honest, as it says,' said she; 'and <i>I'm</i> a lie +myself, cheating father. Christmas to-morrow! 'twon't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> last long; if +<i>he</i> only knew I go to—I won't say the word—would he ever care about +me again?'</p> + +<p>She went into the other room for her shawl.</p> + +<p>'Hes my little girl got to go out to-night?' said Adam. 'Well, there's +to-morrow. Doan' stay late, Net,' kissing her good-by.</p> + +<p>She pulled the hood over her face and went out, taking the road to the +city, never slackening her pace till the lights along the way grew +thicker, and she came upon the pavements. Crossing the great +thoroughfare, she turned into a narrow street, and from that descended a +short flight of steps into a narrower one lit only by a great lamp in +front of a door, with the word '<i>Tanzhaus</i>' above it; she went in here +unhesitatingly. A large room with a bar on one side, small tables in the +middle, and a stage at the farther end; some tables had occupants, +drinking and looking at several women dancing on the stage. This was +Jane's 'place;' the dance house wanted her face at its tables, and as +there was nothing else open, in very desperation she went. She turned +into a smaller room where the private tables were, to which she +belonged; at first they had tried to teach her to dance, but she would +not learn. The furniture was worn, with a slimy polish in spots; an +unclean, stifling smell in the air; a few coarse prints of racers and +champions hung around; and in one place a drunken artist had sketched +one night a Crucifixion on the wall; the owner was angry enough, but +something held back his hand from touching it, and it staid there, +covered by an old newspaper.</p> + +<p>As Jane laid away her shawl and hood, a woman came forward to meet her.</p> + +<p>'What are you here for?' she said, fiercely; 'this is Christmas eve! +there's none for me—I wish I could cry, but my tears are dried up,' +snatching her tawdry cap from her head and stamping on it; 'but you're +not a devil yet. Go home, if you've got a home! out the back +way—quick!'</p> + +<p>The woman caught her shoulder, pulled away the paper, and pointed to the +picture on the wall.</p> + +<p>'Look at <i>that</i>! When I see that, I think sometimes I'm in hell! What +has that got to do with me? Do you want to get out of the reach of that? +Go home, go home,' shaking her furiously.</p> + +<p>'I can't! I can't!' cried Jane, desperately. 'He won't let me. 'Twas +here or the street, I thought; I've been here three weeks, and +to-night's no more'n other nights.'</p> + +<p>A voice called in the front room, and the woman put on her cap and ran +in; Jane stood where she left her. She hardly knew what moved her +to-night; she saw her own body walking about, tense and foreign, as +though some possession had it; she had felt a new, strange kind of +strength all day, after she had her cry out. She looked up at the +picture again, saying slowly to herself:</p> + +<p>'It's for <i>them</i>—I've got father, and mother, and sister, and +brethren.'</p> + +<p>Nine o'clock struck, and people began to come in; there was likely to be +a rush to-night, and the players in the front room commenced their +liveliest round of operatic airs. One after another turned into the side +room, and the calls for service grew lively. Jane moved among them +mechanically, thinking all the while of Nobby tossing in his pain; of +the tree waiting for to-morrow; of her father turned out of his place; +of the rent and the grocer's bill that were about due; and of her own +wages, pretty much all that was left. Was it such a terrible sin to be +there—for <i>them</i>? Then she shivered to think she might be sliding down. +No, no, she would be kept—they should be taken care of, but she +wouldn't fall while she had them to think of. A hot flush colored her +face as she thought of young Prescott, confusing her so that she almost +stumbled. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> would <i>he</i> think if he knew where she worked? No matter, +he shouldn't know it. He would take her out of this by and by, and after +that she would tell him all about it, and what she did it for, and he +would love her all the better for it.</p> + +<p>The hours struck and went by, and the room grew hotter and noisier. Once +the tables were emptied; but a fresh party came in, and their leader +waved them to seats with maudlin politeness. He was a handsome young +man, partly drunk already; he pushed the woman he had with him into a +chair, and dropped into another himself. His back was toward Jane; she +stood still a minute, then walked slowly, as if something dragged her, +till she could see his face.</p> + +<p>The glass she held fell from her hand with a crash, but she stood dumb +and white, and clung trembling to the table. He started, but gave her a +nod.</p> + +<p>'<i>You</i>, Will Prescott! Oh, my God!'</p> + +<p>'You here, Jane! And you're one of 'em too! I didn't think it quite so +soon.'</p> + +<p>She did not seem to hear the last words. The blood surged back to her +face, and she sank at his feet.</p> + +<p>'No, no,' she moaned, 'I'm not, I'm not—I'm only here. You won't think +worse of me, Will, seeing I did it for <i>them</i>? I must work somewhere, +and this was all I could find. Say you don't think <i>that</i>! Say you +believe me!'</p> + +<p>He smiled in a drunken way, without speaking.</p> + +<p>'Say it, Will! Say you love me, and take me out of this!'</p> + +<p>'Ho, ho! that's a devilish good one! You're here, and so'm I; I'm just a +little merry to-night—couldn't wait till to-morrow. We're well met, +Jane—these are my friends; here's my most par-ticular friend,' laying +his hand on his companion's shoulder.</p> + +<p>The girl seemed to be stunned so that she did not understand.</p> + +<p>'See it, hey? 'Say you love me!' You do it beautifully, Jane—do some +more. Did you ever think I loved you?—Oh, yes! and that I wanted to +marry you—of course! If your face hadn't looked prettier'n it does now, +damn me if I'd ever looked twice at it!'</p> + +<p>He turned his chair a little.</p> + +<p>'What's that!' he screamed, catching sight of the painting on the wall. +'Take it away! You put it there, you wretch!' staring at it with his +eyes fixed.</p> + +<p>The noise brought the owner to the door—a burly Dutchman.</p> + +<p>'Landlord, put that thing away—cover it up! Damnation! Do I want to +come here to be preached at?'</p> + +<p>'Who pulled that paper off, I say?' said the man. 'I pinned <i>The +Clipper</i> over it. You did it, I swar! Be off with yer!'</p> + +<p>'Oh, let her stay, Lumpsey,' said a woman that came in from the bar; +'she'll be one on 'em when she gits round.'</p> + +<p>'I won't; I won't have nobody here that's better'n we be no longer. +Here's yer pay; an' now, missis, start yerself, an' don't yer come nigh +here agen 'thout yer'll behave decent an' be one on us.'</p> + +<p>He tossed some bank notes toward her, took her by the shoulders, and +shoved her out, shutting the door upon her.</p> + + +<h4><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h4> + +<p>Everybody had gone out on Christmas eve—darting about in sleighs; at +service in the churches; at a party given in their set; shopping, as if +their lives depended on it. Buying, selling, visiting, looking, the city +was all astir. In the churches, soberly gay with evergreen trimming, +like a young widow very stylish in black, but very proper withal, people +were listening to the anthems, and everything about the place was wide +awake, unless it was the chimes taking a nap until twelve o'clock; +drygoods men ran to and fro, dropping smiles, and winding them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>selves up +in a great medley reel of silks, laces, and things of <i>virtu</i> in +general; next door, the booksellers were resplendent in dazzling +bindings, pictures and photographs of everything and everybody, all of +which were at everybody's disposal—take 'em all home, if you pleased; +livery stables were as bare as if there had been an invasion of the +country that day, and smiling keepers touched their pockets, and shook +their heads pityingly at late comers; and even in the markets jolly +butchers laughed, and sawed, and cut, and counted their money—and those +leathery fellows that were never jolly, suddenly found out a new +commercial maxim, that jollity is the best policy, and they fell to +laughing too. 'Christmas is coming!' thought everybody. 'Christmas is +coming!' and some of the lively small bells in the towers, not grown yet +to years of ripe discretion, whispered to each other, and had to bite +their tongues to keep from shouting it right out.</p> + +<p>The dance house and the narrow alley left behind, Jane was in the street +too; she went with the crowd, pulling her hood so as to hide her face. +She glanced at the costly goods that lay in confusion on the counters of +the stores, and smiled bitterly, taking hold of her own cheap dress; the +sleighs almost ran over her, they shot back and forth so wildly, to her +whirling brain; a German air that a band was playing on a serenade +somewhere in the distance seemed to roar in her ears like thunder. She +stopped before a confectioner's. The hot smell of meats came up through +the grating where she stood; the window was ablaze with gas, piled high +with pyramids of glittering frost, which rose out of a heaped profusion +of carved lobster and turkey, and fruits and candies; she saw girls with +pretty faces and nice dresses waiting on the fashionable crowd inside, +and said to herself that she ought to be there. Some one touched her. It +was a girl younger than herself, who stood glaring at the window, +shivering in her ragged clothing; her eyes looked unnaturally large out +of her sharp, pinched face, daubed with tears and dirt.</p> + +<p>'Look a' thar!' she cried eagerly, catching Jane's arm, 'see <i>them</i>! Why +ben't them mine? Why ben't I in thar, a buyin' o' them? I ort to ride, +ortn't I? Why ben't I got nice things on, like a' them thar? Pinchin' +Dave's got my dress for three shillin' to-night—the last un I been a +savin'; must ha' some drink, so't I'd be forgettin'—to-night, to-night, +ye see, I say—hoh!'</p> + +<p>Giving a wild laugh, the girl ran off. A man inside was looking angrily +through the window; so Jane turned from the thoroughfare, and finally +struck into the road by which she came. The street lamps had given way +to the moon. The flats adjoining the city were all white except marshy +spots; passing two tall buildings, that made a sort of gateway, the +country spread to the sky unbroken, except where rows of dreary houses, +shadowy without the twinkle of a light, stood on some new land; this was +not the fashionable road, and it was empty. How pure and cool it was! In +the city, there was straggling moonlight, darkened by the brick walls, +but no moon; out here, the moon had just broken from a bank of cloud low +down, piled on a bank of snow, all looking snowy and alike, the horizon +line being hardly distinguishable; the light poured from the edge in a +shining flood, and rippled without a sound over the crisp, crusted +snow—all of one kin, cold, sparkling, desolate.</p> + +<p>Jane noted nothing of this; she walked dizzily along the road. Only one +day since morning, after living a whole lifetime in that! She scooped up +a handful of snow, and rubbed it furiously into her face and eyes, they +burned so; her eyes were dry, melting the snow without feeling wet any. +Clear back in the morning, Margery Eames met her; then the day dragged +along as if it never would go, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> ate nothing but the tears she +swallowed; going down those steps, through that dreadful door, waiting +on those tables—the evening, till Will Prescott came in. She had wanted +so to have what others had, to study, to paint—such things as she had +seen, and she couldn't make a stroke! to learn to sing, as she had heard +them sing in the churches; to see Germany, that her mother had told her +about; she wanted to be loved—not like father and Nobby, but another +way too; she had a right to have such things—other people had them. +<i>He</i> had praised her, stroked her hair; said she was too pale, but no +matter, she'd brighten up by and by; she was his little bluebell he had +found in the woods, that he was going to make over into a red rose; she +should have everything she wanted, and go with him everywhere, pretty +soon—only be patient; if he could wait, couldn't she? And she had been +patient, without telling father about it, though somehow he found out; +she had waited in the road an hour more than once for a kind word and a +smile as he rode by; she had borne with her hard fare, and waited for +him to do the things he promised; and after she had to go into the dance +house, she hated it most for his sake—she hated him to kiss her, for +fear he'd find some taint on her lips of the place she went to; she +thought of him all the while, to keep up courage; of course it was for +father and Nobby she did it, but he helped her. It was all over now.</p> + +<p>She came to the bridge over the river, and stopped on it. Just then she +happened to think of a choral her mother liked to sing: 'A mighty +fortress is our God.' A fortress—not hers. Did He sometimes turn +against people and crowd them—who crowded the girl at the +confectioner's window? Was there any God at all? Not in the city; only +two sorts of people were there, who either lived in fine houses, and had +no souls at all, or else went about the streets, and had lost them. Was +there any God out here? If there was, He wouldn't have let Mr. Cowles +turn her father off, and she wouldn't be out in the cold; there wasn't +any anywhere.</p> + +<p>Jane looked down at the water. It was muddy, but it gave a wavering +reflection as the wind ruffled it; now and then a piece of driftwood +glided from under the bridge, and was borne along toward the factory +dam. Her mind flashed round to the factory, and home, and the Christmas +tree for to-morrow, and she laughed bitterly. Jump! She had lost <i>him</i>, +all that had been keeping her up so long—he never meant to marry her, +though he said so, and she believed him. Everything went with that love; +what was there left? What matter what came now? Jump! But father and +Nobby? She couldn't leave them unprovided for. Money, money! she must +have money, for <i>them</i>.</p> + +<p>The bells began to chime very softly, as they always did at twelve +o'clock of this night in the year. They seemed to say: 'Come! come! +come!' She caught at the sound. There was money in the city, and one way +yet to earn it.</p> + +<p>'They're calling me!' she cried, clutching her dress wildly with both +hands; 'they're pushing me into hell—why shouldn't I go? <i>They'll</i> have +money, and I'm gone already.'</p> + +<p>She turned, and walked back without faltering, to the edge of the city, +and stopped between the two buildings. There was an alley close by, like +one she knew so well; by the noise there was revel in it. She hesitated +a minute, crouching out of sight in the shadow of the buildings.</p> + +<p>'Don't stop here!' she muttered to herself; 'now as well as any other +time!' and turned into the alley. The light was streaming from a door +near the middle, and a man in sailor's dress came out and caught a +glimpse of her creeping along close to the wall.</p> + +<p>'Hey, lass!' he said, 'merry Christmas to ye! 'Rived in port to-day. +Been a cruisin'. Locker full, an' all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> hands piped ashore. What craft be +you—a Dutch galley? Sail down a bit, till I get within speakin' +distance.'</p> + +<p>She only staggered closer against the wall.</p> + +<p>'Beatin' off, hey? Well, lass, come an' drink to better acquaintance.'</p> + +<p>'It's the first time, but I'll go—I'll go with you,' she answered. She +followed him to the door. The gas flared full on his face, and she gave +a mortal scream.</p> + +<p>'Brother Tom!'</p> + +<p>He made a headlong clutch at her, but she broke away, leaving a fragment +of her dress in his hand, and flew round the corner out of his sight.</p> + +<p>She ran blindly through several streets, but finally she regained the +road, and never stopped her headlong speed till she leaned against the +door of Adam Craig's cottage. She pushed the door open softly, and went +in. Quick as she had been, her brother was there already, standing by +Nobby's bed; Adam Craig was there, but his back was turned.</p> + +<p>'Did you—tell him?' she whispered.</p> + +<p>Her brother nodded, and put out his hand. She took it, with a half +hesitation.</p> + +<p>'He understands,' he whispered, answering the question of her eyes.</p> + +<p>The old stoker turned around. She made a move to shrink away, but he +caught her, and drew her to his breast, crying and sobbing:</p> + +<p>'Lord, Lord, Lord's good!' he cried, 'thank Him for't! She's saved, my +little girl! I've found more'n I've lost, to-day. Oh, she's pure yet, +she's saved—she's nawt lost, my girl, she's nawt! I didn't knaw't! +didn't knaw what she was doin', but it's all right noo! We'll never want +any more, but if Net'd been lost—but she's nawt, nawt—she's nawt gone, +she's here, an' harm never'll come nigh her any more! I knowed Tom'd +come back, an' now Net! they both hev saved each other, Lord's good +for't!'</p> + +<p>'But Nobby?' she whispered.</p> + +<p>'Lord brought us one, an' noo He's goin' to take back t'other,' said +Adam.</p> + +<p>The child was twisting in his father's arms in the height of his pain.</p> + +<p>'I knaw noo why 'twas I went away thet mornin', an' Nobby got t'bump,' +said Adam, looking on sadly.</p> + +<p>The young sailor made no answer. The partial drunkenness of his first +night on shore was gone, and he only held his suffering child, wiping +the drops from its face. So they stood watching, and the hours went on.</p> + +<p>'Zuhöret!' cried Adam's wife. 'Die Weihnachtsglocken!'</p> + +<p>It was the bells, ringing out the full morning carol. The child was +lying on his bed; he brightened up a little, then shut his eyes wearily, +and stopped writhing. For little Nobby it that moment became true that</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Christ was born on Christmas day.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="APHORISM_NO_VII" id="APHORISM_NO_VII"></a>APHORISM.—NO. VII.</h2> + + +<p>The sufficient reason why the common developments of intellect are so +poor, is not so much in the want of native capacity, as in the low moral +estate of our nature. Our hearts are so dry, our better affections so +dull, that we are not the subjects of stimulus adequate to the calling +forth of efforts suitable to the necessities of the case. Here and +there, one is so richly endowed in mind, that his love of science or art +may suffice to tax his powers to the full: but a world could never be +constituted of such geniuses. The mass of men, if ever to be led up to +any high plane of mental life, must be so under the promptings of +affections and passions which find their excitement in the more +practical spheres of our existence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JAMES_FENIMORE_COOPER_ON_SECESSION_AND_STATE_RIGHTS" id="JAMES_FENIMORE_COOPER_ON_SECESSION_AND_STATE_RIGHTS"></a>JAMES FENIMORE COOPER ON SECESSION AND STATE RIGHTS.</h2> + + +<p>In the earlier numbers of <i>The Spirit of the Fair</i>, the newspaper +published by a committee of gentlemen for the benefit of the New York +Metropolitan Fair, appeared a series of very remarkable papers from the +pen of James Fenimore Cooper, the American novelist.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> The history of +these papers is very curious, as announced by the editors of <i>The Spirit +of the Fair</i>, in their introductory, as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><h4>'UNPUBLISHED MSS. OF JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.</h4> + +<p>'Our national novelist died in the autumn of 1850; previous to his +fatal illness he was engaged upon a historical work, to be entitled +'The Men of Manhattan,' only the Introduction to which had been +sent to the press. The printing office was destroyed by fire, and +with it the opening chapters of this work; fortunately a few pages +had been set up, and the impression sent to a literary gentleman, +then editor of a popular critical journal, and were thus saved from +destruction. To him we are indebted for the posthumous articles of +Cooper, wherewith, by a coincidence as remarkable as it is +auspicious, we now enrich our columns with a contribution from the +American pioneer in letters.'</p></div> + +<p>Many readers at the time passed over these papers without the careful +attention which they deserved. Others, who perused them more thoroughly, +were struck with the remarkable prescience which the great writer's +thoughts exhibited on topics which the events now passing before us lend +a tremendous interest. Cooper, it must be remembered, uttered his views +on 'Secession,' 'State Rights,' etc., upward of <i>fifteen years ago</i>, and +at a period when the horrors of rebellion, as a consequence of slavery, +were little foreseen as likely to succeed those years of peace and +prosperity. Had these opinions been published at the period intended by +their writer, they would doubtless have been pronounced visionary and +illogical. By a singular succession of events, however, the MS. has been +hidden in the chrysalis of years, until, lo! it sees the light of day at +a period when the prophetic words of their author come up, as it were, +from his grave, with the vindication of truth and historic fidelity.</p> + +<p>For the benefit of those who have not read these papers in the newspaper +where they originally appeared, we make the following extracts, feeling +assured that no man interested in passing events, or in the causes which +led to them, can fail to recognize in these passages the astonishing +power and comprehensiveness of the mind that fifteen years ago discussed +these vital topics. Let it be remembered, too, that their author was a +man whose sympathies were largely with his countrymen, not less of the +South than of the North, and that it was doubtless with a view of +warning his Southern friends of the danger which hovered over the +'institution' of slavery, that they were written. Probably had they +appeared in print at that time, they would have produced no effect where +mostly effect was aimed at; but now that they have appeared, when the +small cloud of evil pointed out has spread over the Southern land and +broken into a deluge of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> devastation, they will at least prove that the +words of warning were not perishable utterances signifying nothing.</p> + + +<h4>'SECESSION.</h4> + +<p>'The first popular error that we shall venture to assail, is that +connected with the prevalent notion of the sovereignty of the States. We +do not believe that the several States of this Union are, in any +legitimate meaning of the term, sovereign at all. We are fully aware +that this will be regarded as a bold, and possibly as a presuming +proposition, but we shall endeavor to work it out with such means as we +may have at command.</p> + +<p>'We lay down the following premises as too indisputable to need any +arguments to sustain them: viz., the authority which formed the present +Constitution of the United States had the legal power to do so. That +authority was in the Government of the States, respectively, and not in +their people in the popular signification, but through their people in +the political meaning of the term, and what was then done must be +regarded as acts connected with the composition and nature of +governments, and of no minor or different interests of human affairs.</p> + +<p>'It being admitted, that the power which formed the Government was +legitimate, we obtain one of the purest compacts for the organization of +human society that probably ever existed. The ancient allegiance, under +which the colonies had grown up to importance, had been extinguished by +solemn treaty, and the States met in Convention sustained by all the law +they had, and backed in every instance by institutions that were more or +less popular. The history of the world cannot, probably, furnish another +instance of the settlement of the fundamental contract of a great nation +under circumstances of so much obvious justice. This gives unusual +solemnity and authority to the Constitution of 1787, and invests it with +additional claims to our admiration and respect.</p> + +<p>'The authority which formed the Constitution admitted, we come next to +the examination of its acts. It is apparent from the debates and +proceedings of the Convention, that two opinions existed in that body; +the one leaning strongly toward the concentration of power in the hands +of the Federal Government, and the other desirous of leaving as much as +possible with the respective States. The principle that the powers which +are not directly conceded to the Union should remain in first hands, +would seem never to have been denied; and some years after the +organization of the Government, it was solemnly recognized in an +amendment. We are not disposed, however, to look for arguments in the +debates and discussions of the Convention, in our view often a deceptive +and dangerous method of construing a law, since the vote is very +frequently given on even conflicting reasons. Different minds arrive at +the same results by different processes; and it is no unusual thing for +men to deny each other's premises, while they accept their conclusions. +We shall look, therefore, solely to the compact itself, as the most +certain mode of ascertaining what was done.</p> + +<p>'No one will deny that all the great powers of sovereignty are directly +conceded to the Union. The right to make war and peace, to coin money, +maintain armies and navies, etc., etc., in themselves overshadow most of +the sovereignty of the States. The amendatory clause would seem to +annihilate it. By the provisions of that clause three fourths of the +States can take away all the powers and rights now resting in the hands +of the respective States, with a single exception. This exception gives +breadth and emphasis to the efficiency of the clause. It will be +remembered that all this can be done within the present Constitution.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +It is a part of the original bargain. Thus, New York can legally be +deprived of the authority to punish for theft, to lay out highways, to +incorporate banks, and all the ordinary interests over which she at +present exercises control, every human being within her limits +dissenting. Now as sovereignty means power in the last resort, this +amendatory clause most clearly deprives the State of all sovereign power +thus put at the disposition of Conventions of the several States; in +fact, the votes of these Conventions, or that of the respective +Legislatures acting in the same capacity, is nothing but the highest +species of legislation known to the country; and no other mode of +altering the institutions would be legal. It follows unavoidably, we +repeat, that the sovereignty which remains in the several States must be +looked for solely in the exception. What, then, is this exception?</p> + +<p>'It is a provision which says, that no State may be deprived of its +equal representation in the Senate, without its own consent. It might +well be questioned whether this provision of the Constitution renders a +Senate indispensable to the Government. But we are willing to concede +this point and admit that it does. Can the vote of a single State, which +is one of a body of thirty, and which is bound to submit to the decision +of a legal majority, be deemed a sovereign vote? Assuming that the whole +power of the Government of the United States were in the Senate, would +any one State be sovereign in such a condition of things? We think not. +But the Senate does not constitute by any means the whole or the half of +the authority of this Government; its legislative power is divided with +a popular body, without the concurrence of which it can do nothing; this +dilutes the sovereignty to a degree that renders it very imperceptible, +if not very absurd. Nor is this all. After a law is passed by the +concurrence of the two houses of Congress, it is sent to a perfectly +independent tribunal to decide whether it is in conformity with the +principles of the great national compact; thus demonstrating, as we +assume, that the sovereignty of this whole country rests, not in its +people, not in its States, but in the Government of the Union.</p> + +<p>'Sovereignty, and that of the most absolute character, is indispensable +to the right of secession: nay, sovereignty, in the ordinary acceptation +of the meaning of the term, might exist in a State without this right of +secession. We doubt if it would be held sound doctrine to maintain that +any single State had a right to secede from the German Confederation, +for instance; and many alliances, or mere treaties, are held to be +sacred and indissoluble; they are only broken by an appeal to violence.</p> + +<p>'Every human contract may be said to possess its distinctive character. +Thus, marriage is to be distinguished from a partnership in trade, +without recurrence to any particular form of words. Marriage, contracted +by any ceremony whatever, is held to be a contract for life. The same is +true of Governments: in their nature they are intended to be +indissoluble. We doubt if there be an instance on record of a Government +that ever existed, under conditions, expressed or implied, that the +parts of its territory might separate at will. There are so many +controlling and obvious reasons why such a privilege should not remain +in the hands of sections or districts, that it is unnecessary to advert +to them. But after a country has rounded its territory, constructed its +lines of defence, established its system of custom houses, and made all +the other provisions for security, convenience, and concentration, that +are necessary to the affairs of a great nation, it would seem to be very +presumptuous to impute to any particular district the right to destroy +or mutilate a system regulated with so much care.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>'The only manner in which the right of secession could exist in one of +the American States, would be by an express reservation to that effect +in the Constitution, There is no such clause; did it exist it would +change the whole character of the Government, rendering it a mere +alliance, instead of being that which it now is—a lasting Union. But, +whatever may be the legal principles connected with this serious +subject, there always exists, in large bodies of men, a power to change +their institutions by means of the strong hand. This is termed the right +of revolution, and it has often been appealed to to redress grievances +that could be removed by no other agency. It is undeniable that the +institution of domestic slavery, as it now exists in what are termed the +Southern and Southwestern States of this country, creates an interest of +the most delicate and sensitive character. Nearly one half of the entire +property of the slaveholding States consists in this right to the +services of human beings of a race so different from our own as to +render any amalgamation to the last degree improbable, if not +impossible. Any one may easily estimate the deep interest that the +masters feel in the preservation of their property. The spirit of the +age is decidedly against them, and of this they must be sensible; it +doubly augments their anxiety for the future. The natural increase, +moreover, of these human chattels renders an outlet indispensable, or +they will soon cease to be profitable by the excess of their numbers. To +these facts we owe the figments which have rendered the Southern school +of logicians a little presuming, perhaps, and certainly very +sophistical. Among other theories we find the bold one, that the +Territories of the United States are the property, not of the several +States, but of their individual people; in other words, that the native +of New York or Rhode Island, regardless of the laws of the country, has +a right to remove to any one of these Territories, carry with him just +such property as he may see fit, and make such use of it as he may find +convenient. This is a novel copartnership in jurisdiction, to say the +least, and really does not seem worthy of a serious reply.'</p> + + +<h4>'SLAVERY.</h4> + +<p>'The American Union has much more adhesiveness than is commonly +imagined. The diversity and complexity of its interests form a network +that will be found, like the web of the spider, to possess a power of +resistance far exceeding its gossamer appearance—one strong enough to +hold all that it was ever intended to enclose. The slave interest is now +making its final effort for supremacy, and men are deceived by the +throes of a departing power. The institution of domestic slavery cannot +last. It is opposed to the spirit of the age; and the figments of Mr. +Calhoun, in affirming that the Territories belong to the States, instead +of the Government of the United States; and the celebrated doctrine of +the equilibrium, for which we look in vain into the Constitution for a +single sound argument to sustain it, are merely the expiring efforts of +a reasoning that cannot resist the common sense of the nation. As it is +healthful to exhaust all such questions, let us turn aside a moment, to +give a passing glance at this very material subject.</p> + +<p>'At the time when the Constitution was adopted, three classes of persons +were 'held to service' in the country—apprentices, redemptioners, and +slaves. The two first classes were by no means insignificant in 1789, +and the redemptioners were rapidly increasing in numbers. In that day it +looked as if this speculative importation of laborers from Europe was to +form a material part of the domestic policy of the Northern States. Now +the negro is a human being, as well as an apprentice or a redemptioner, +though the Constitution does not consider him as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> equal of either. +It is a great mistake to suppose that the Constitution of the United +States, as it now exists, recognizes slavery in any manner whatever, +unless it be to mark it as an interest that has less than the common +claim to the ordinary rights of humanity. In the apportionment, or +representation clause, the redemptioner and the apprentice counts each +as a man, whereas five slaves are enumerated as only three free men. The +free black is counted as a man, in all particulars, and is represented +as such, but his fellow in slavery has only three fifths of his +political value.'</p> + + +<h4>'THE LOVE OF UNION.</h4> + +<p>'The attachment to the Union is very strong and general throughout the +whole of this vast country, and it is only necessary to sound the tocsin +to bring to its maintenance a phalanx equal to uphold its standard +against the assaults of any enemies. The impossibility of the +Northwestern States consenting that the mouth of the Mississippi should +be held by a foreign power, is in itself a guarantee of the long +existence of the present political ties. Then, the increasing and +overshadowing power of the nation is of a character so vast, so +exciting, so attractive, so well adapted to carry with it popular +impulses, that men become proud of the name of American, and feel +unwilling to throw away the distinction for any of the minor +considerations of local policy. Every man sees and feels that a state is +rapidly advancing to maturity which must reduce the pretensions of even +ancient Rome to supremacy, to a secondary place in the estimation of +mankind. A century will unquestionably place the United States of +America prominently at the head of civilized nations, unless their +people throw away their advantages by their own mistakes—the only real +danger they have to apprehend: and the mind clings to this hope with a +buoyancy and fondness that are becoming profoundly national. We have a +thousand weaknesses, and make many blunders, beyond a doubt, as a +people; but where shall we turn to find a parallel to our progress, our +energy, and increasing power? That which it has required centuries, in +other regions, to effect, is here accomplished in a single life; and the +student in history finds the results of all his studies crowded, as it +might be, into the incidents of the day.'</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The stereotype plates of <i>The Spirit of the Fair</i>, in which +the Cooper articles originally appeared, are owned by Mr. Trow. Bound +volumes of these interesting papers, containing a record of days so full +of patriotism, charity, and incident, may be obtained on application to +him. We give this piece of information to our readers, not doubting that +many of them will be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity to +possess them—an opportunity which may soon pass away in the rapid +development of present events.—<span class="smcap">Editor Continental.</span></p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="APHORISMS_NO_VIII" id="APHORISMS_NO_VIII"></a>APHORISMS.—NO. VIII.</h2> + + +<p>'We shall never know much while we have so many books.'</p> + +<p>Such was my thought, many years ago; and such does all my observation +and experience still confirm. Knowledges we may have, even if we do read +much: but not much knowledge.</p> + +<p>But, some will ask, if one has true ideas, though derived from +others—is not that knowledge? Yes, if he has ideas: but propositions +expressing them are not enough: one may have many of these, and know but +little. For example, let us suppose Locke right about the mind's coming +into existence as a sheet of white paper—a man may receive this, and +yet not know it. See how easily this may be tested. White paper will +receive any impression you please: can the human mind receive the +impression that two and two are five, or that a part is equal to the +whole? Locke could have answered this, and seemed to save his theory. +The borrower from Locke cannot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RESURRECTION_FLOWER" id="THE_RESURRECTION_FLOWER"></a>THE RESURRECTION FLOWER.</h2> + + +<p>If a traveller in Egypt were to bow before the Sphynx, and receive a nod +in return, he could scarcely be more surprised than I was to-day, upon +seeing a little, dried-up thing—the remains of what had once bloomed +and faded ''mid beleaguering sands'—spring into life and beauty before +my very eyes. All the Abbott Collection contains nothing more rare or +curious. Old, perhaps, as Cheops, and apparently as sound asleep, it is +startled at the touch of water, and, stretching forth its tiny petals, +wakes into life as brightly as a new-born flower.</p> + +<p>No one could believe, upon looking at this little ball, hanging on its +fragile stem, and resembling both in color and shape a shrunken +poppy-head, or some of the acorn tribe, what magical results could arise +from merely wetting its surface—yet so it is.</p> + +<p>Sleeping, but not dead, the flower is aroused by being for an instant +immersed in water, and then supported in an upright position. Soon the +upper fibres begin to stir. Slowly, yet visibly, they unfold, until, +with petals thrown back in equidistant order, it assumes the appearance +of a beautifully radiated, starry flower, not unlike some of the Asters +in form. Resting a moment, it suddenly, as though inspired by some new +impulse, throws its very heart to the daylight, curving back its petals +farther still, and disclosing beauties undreamed of even in the +loveliness of its first awakening.</p> + +<p>To say that, in general effect, its appearance resembles the +passion-flower is to give but a poor description, and yet one searches +in vain for a more fitting comparison. Lacking entirely the strong +contrasts in color of the latter, it yet wears a halo of its own, unlike +any other in the whole range of floral effects.</p> + +<p>When viewed through a powerful lens, the heart of the flower, which, to +the naked eye, lies flooded in a warm, colorless light, assumes the most +exquisite iridescent hues, far more beautiful than the defined tints of +the passion-flower. Melting to the eye in its juiciness and delicacy, +yet firm in its pure outline and rounded finish, it bears the same +relation to that chosen type of the great Suffering, that peace bears to +passion, or that promise bears to prayer.</p> + +<p>Soon the aspect of the flower changes. As though over the well-spring of +its eternal life hangs some ruthless power forcing it back into +darkness, before an hour has passed, we can see that its newly-found +vigor is fading away. The pulsing light at its heart grows fainter and +fainter—slowly the petals raise themselves, to drop wearily side by +side upon its bosom—and finally, its beauty vanished, its strength +exhausted, it hangs heavy and brown upon its stem, waiting for the touch +that alone can waken it again.</p> + +<p>This rare botanical wonder, blooming one moment before admiring eyes, +and next lying dried and shrivelled in a tomb-like box, is not without +its legendary interest, though the odor of its oriental history has, by +this time, been nearly blown away by that sharp simoom of investigation, +which has already whirled so many pretty fables and theories into +oblivion.</p> + +<p>The story of the flower, as given in 1856, by the late Dr. Deck, the +naturalist, is as follows:</p> + +<p>While travelling on a professional tour in Upper Egypt, eight years +before, engaged in exploring for some lost emerald and copper mines, he +chanced to render medical service to an Arab attached to his party. In +gratitude, the child of the desert formally presented<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> to him this +now-called 'Resurrection Flower,' at the same time enjoining upon him +never to part with it. Like the fabled gift of the Egyptian, it was +supposed to have 'magic in the web of it.' The doctor was solemnly +assured by the Arab, and others of his race, that it had been taken ten +years before from the breast of an Egyptian mummy, a high priestess, and +was deemed a great rarity; that it would never decay if properly cared +for; that its possession through life would tend to revive hope in +adversity, and, if buried with its owner, would ensure for him hereafter +all the enjoyments of the Seventh Heaven of Mahomet. When presented, +this flower was one of two hanging upon the same stem. Dr. Deck +carefully preserved one; the twin specimen he presented to Baron +Humboldt, who acknowledged it to be the greatest floral wonder he had +yet seen, and the only one of its kind he had met with in the course of +his extensive travels.</p> + +<p>For years the doctor carried his treasure with him everywhere, prizing +it for its intrinsic qualities, and invariably awakening the deepest +interest whenever he chanced to display its wondrous powers. During the +remainder of his life he caused the flower to open more than one +thousand times, without producing any diminution of its extraordinary +property, or any injury to it whatever. It is proper to state that, +though closely examined by some of the most eminent naturalists, both at +home and abroad, no positive position in the botanical kingdom was ever +assigned to it—indeed to this day it remains a waif in the floral +world, none having determined under what classification it belongs.</p> + +<p>I need not say that the doctor, while gratefully accepting the gift of +his Arab friend, quietly rejected the accompanying superstitions. +Subsequent trials and proofs positive confirmed his doubts of its +hope-inspiring power, while his inclination and good old prejudices +tempted him to forego the delights of the Seventh Heaven by bequeathing +his treasure to his friend and pupil, Dr. C. J. Eames, of New York, than +whom none could regard it with a truer appreciation, or recognize its +exquisite perfection with a feeling nearer akin to veneration.</p> + +<p>It has now been in the possession of Dr. Eames for several years, and +has, in the mean time, been unfolded many hundred times, still without +any deterioration of its mysterious power. It opens as fairly and +freshly to-day, as when, under Egyptian skies, more than sixteen years +ago, its delicate fibres, heavy with the dust of ages, quivered into a +new life before the astonished eyes of Dr. Deck.</p> + +<p>Well-named as, in some respects, it seems to be, this marvel of the +botanical world has already given rise to not a few discussions among +the scientific and curious, some earnestly proclaiming its right to the +title of 'Resurrection Flower,' and others denying that it is a flower +at all. Indeed, in its unfolded state, its resemblance to a flattened +poppy-head, and other seed vessels, offers strong argument in favor of +the latter opinion. In alluding to it, one uses the term 'flower' with +decided 'mental reservation'—beautiful flower, as it seems to be when +opened—and speaks of its 'petals' with a deprecating glance at +imaginary hosts of irate botanists. Some, it is true, still insist that +it is a <i>bona fide</i> flower; but Dr. Deck himself inclined to the belief +that it was the pericarp or seed vessel of some desert shrub, rare +indeed, as few or none like it have appeared in centuries, yet not +without its analogies in the vegetable world.</p> + +<p>The famous Rose of Jericho (not that mentioned in the Apocrypha, or the +very common kind peculiar to the far East, but that long-lost variety +prized by the Crusaders as a holy emblem of their zeal and pilgrimage) +was, in all probability, a member of the same genus to which the +'Resurrection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> Flower' belongs. This opinion is supported by the fact +that resemblances of the 'flower,' both open and closed, are sculptured +upon some of the tombs of the Crusaders—two, in the Temple Church of +London, and several in the Cathedrals of Bayeux and Rouen in Normandy, +where lie some of the most renowned followers of Peter the Hermit.</p> + +<p>A brother of Dr. Deck, engaged in antiquarian research in the island of +Malta, discovered the same device graven upon the knights' tombs, and +invariably on that portion of the shield, the 'dexter chief,' which was +considered the place of highest honor. This gentleman has also furnished +the following quotation from an old monkish manuscript, describing 'a +wonder obtained from Jerusalem by the holy men, and called by them the +'Star of Bethlehem,' as, if exposed to the moon on the eve of the +Epiphany, it would become wondrous fair to view, and like unto the star +of the Saviour; and with the first glory of the sun, it would return to +its lowliness.'</p> + +<p>Doubtless the old chroniclers, had they lived in these days of evidence +and 'solid fact,' would have given some credit to the heavy dews +peculiar to moonlight nights, an exposure to which would assuredly have +produced all the effect of immersion upon the flower.</p> + +<p>The fact of so close a representation of the 'Resurrection Flower' being +upon the tombs of the Crusaders, added to the circumstance that in his +Egyptian researches he had never met with any allusion to it, induced +Dr. Deck to discard the story of its Egyptian origin as untenable. 'I +have unwrapped many mummies myself,' he wrote, 'and have had +opportunities of being present at unrolling of others of all classes, +and have never discovered another Resurrection Flower, nor heard of any +one who had; and in the examination of hieroglyphics of every age and +variety, I never discovered anything bearing the remotest resemblance to +it. Those who are conversant with the wonderful features of the Egyptian +religion and priestcraft, will observe how eagerly they seized upon and +deified anything symbolical of their mysterious tenets, and transmitted +them to posterity, figured as hieroglyphics; and it is but natural to +presume that this homely-looking flower, with its halo, so typical of +glory and resurrection, would have ranked high in their mythology, if +it, and its properties, had been known to them. Moreover, an examination +of the elaborate works of Josephus, Herodotus, King, and Diodorus, so +full in their description of Egyptian mythology, has failed to elicit +any description or notice of it whatever.'</p> + +<p>Nearly every one has read of the famous Rose of Jericho (<i>Anastatica +hierochontina</i>) or Holy Rose—a low, gray-leaved annual, utterly unlike +a rose, growing abundantly in the arid wastes of Egypt, and also +throughout Palestine and Barbary, and along the sandy coasts of the Red +Sea. One of the most curious of the cruciferous plants, it exhibits, in +a rare degree, a hygrometric action in its process of reproduction. +During the hot season it blooms freely, growing close to the ground, +bearing its leaves and blossoms upon its upper surface; when these fall +off, the stems become dry and ligneous, curving upward and inward until +the plant becomes a ball of twigs, containing its closed seed-vessels in +the centre, and held to the sand by a short fibreless root. In this +condition, it is readily freed by the winds, and blown across the +desert, until it reaches an oasis or the sea; when, yielding to the +'<i>Open Sesame</i>' of water, it uncloses, leaving nature to use its +jealously guarded treasures at her will.</p> + +<p>The dried plant, if carefully preserved, retains for a long time its +hygrometric quality. When wet, it expands to its original form, +displaying florets (?) not unlike those of the elder, but larger, +closing again as soon as the moisture evaporates. Hence it is +rev<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>erenced in Syria as a holy emblem. The people call it <i>Kaf Maryam</i>, +or Mary's Flower, and many superstitions are held regarding it, one of +which is, that it first blossomed on the night on which our Saviour was +born. Growing everywhere, upon heaps of rubbish and roofs of old houses, +by the wayside, and almost under the very door-stones, it creeps into +the surroundings of the people, weaving its chains of white, yellow, or +purple flowers while sunshine lasts, and, when apparent decay overtakes +it, teaching its beautiful lesson of Life in Death. Who can cavil at the +thought which raises it to a symbol of that Eternal Love forever weaving +endless chains from heart to heart, no spot too lowly for its tendrils +to penetrate, or too dreary for its bloom.</p> + +<p>Some specimens of the Anastatica have been carried to this country by +travellers. One, in the cabinet of Fisher Howe, Esq., of Brooklyn, and +brought by him from Jericho fourteen years ago, still retains its +remarkable habit; and another, older still, is in the possession of Dr. +Eames.</p> + +<p>Among the plants which exhibit curious phases of hygrometric action +might be cited some of the Fig Marigolds (<i>Mesembryanthemum</i>); also the +Scaly Club Moss (<i>Lycopodium</i>). The latter, after being thoroughly +withered, will, if laid in water, gradually expand, turn green, and +assume the appearance of a thriving plant. When again dried, it becomes +a brown, shrunken mass, capable, however, of being revived <i>ad libitum</i>.</p> + +<p>Some species of Fungi also exhibit a similar property—and all have +observed with what promptitude the various pine and larch cones cover +their seed in a storm, or even when it 'looks like rain.' I remember +being once not a little puzzled in trying to open a drawer that some +weeks before had been filled with damp pine cones. Upon becoming dry, +each individual had attempted a humble imitation of the genii in the +'Arabian Nights,' expanding to its fullest extent, only to be subjugated +by being cast again into the water.</p> + +<p>Some of the Algæ exhibit properties similar to that of the Club Moss; +and a marine plant known as the Californian Rock-rose is still more +curious. Clinging closely to the rocks, and feeding upon some invisible +debris, or, like certain orchids, drawing its sustenance from the air +(for the rocks upon which it grows, sometimes are lifted far above the +water), it attains an enormous size, being in some instances as large as +a bushel basket. It is not without a certain jagged beauty of contour, +resembling, more than anything else, clusters of Arbor Vitæ branches cut +out of wet leather, and meeting in the centre. Once torn from its stony +bed, the Rock-rose curls up into an apparently tangled mass of network, +having the general outline of a rose, but it will at any time, upon +being immersed in water, assume its original appearance. I have seen a +fine specimen of this plant open and close, for the hundredth time, +years after it had been taken from the rock.</p> + +<p>The Hygrometric Ground Star (<i>Geastrum hygrometricum</i>), found in many +portions of Europe, is well known; nearer home, we have a variety +(<i>Geastrum Saratogensis</i>) differing in some respects from its +transatlantic relative, which is of a warm brown color, and flourishes +in gravelly soil.</p> + +<p>The American variety grows abundantly in the drifting sands of Saratoga +County, N. Y. It has no stem or root, excepting here and there a fine +capillary fibre by which it clings to the ground. When dry, it contracts +to a perfect sphere, is rolled by the wind across the sand, and +(according to the account given by Dr. Asa Fitch, who has had a specimen +in his possession for twenty years) shakes a few seeds from the orifice +at its summit at each revolution. This seed ball also possesses the +power of opening when moistened, changing its spherical form to that of +an open flower about two inches in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> diameter. When opened, it displays +eight elliptical divisions, resembling petals. These are white as snow +on the inside, and traversed by a network of small irregular cracks, +while their outer surface resembles kid leather, both in color and +texture.</p> + +<p>The Ground Star differs in habit from the 'Resurrection Flower,' which +never yields its seed unless expanded by moisture (if Dr. Deck's theory +be correct), and is not nearly as intricate or beautiful in construction +as the oriental relic. Indeed, to this day, the 'Resurrection Flower,' +as one must call it for want of a better name, remains without a known +rival in the botanical world. From time to time, brief notices +concerning it have been published; and where writers, sometimes without +having seen the original, have claimed the knowledge or possession of +similar specimens, they have become convinced of their mistake on +personal inspection. Even the plants alluded to in a short account, +given eight years ago, in a leading New York periodical, as being the +same as the 'Resurrection Flower,' proved, on comparison by Dr. Eames, +to be entirely different.</p> + +<p>Although it is by no means certain that the plant in Baron Humboldt's +collection, and that owned by Dr Eames, are the only individuals of +their kind in existence, the fact of their great rarity is well +established. As far as I have been able to ascertain, there is but one +'Resurrection Flower' in America.</p> + +<p>That new plants might be obtained from this lonely representative of its +race few can doubt; but to this day the germs exposed so temptingly at +each awakening, have never been removed. Old as it is, it has never done +its work, the only seeds it has sown being those of inquiry and +adoration in the minds of all who have witnessed its marvellous powers.</p> + +<p>Whether the pretty oriental tale of its origin be true or not—and it +requires an oriental faith to believe it in the face of contradictory +evidence—none can gaze upon that little emblem of 'Life in Death'—so +homely and frail, and yet so beautiful and so eternal—without peculiar +emotion.</p> + +<p>What drooping, weary soul, parched with the dust of earth, but sometimes +longs to be forever steeped in that great Love in which it may expand +and bloom—casting its treasures upon Heavenly soil,—and glowing +evermore with the radiance of the Awakening.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="RECOGNITION" id="RECOGNITION"></a>RECOGNITION.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now in the chambers of my heart is day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And form and order. A most sacred guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is come therein, and at his high behest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty and Light, who his calm glance obey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew to prepare them for his regal sway.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now solitude I seek, which once, possessed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fled; now, solitude to me is blessed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein I hearken Love's mysterious lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hold with thee communion in my heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou art beautiful, thou who art mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with thy beauty, Beauty's soul divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has filled my soul, I muse upon apart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the blue dome of Heaven's eternity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rising I seem upborne by thoughts of thee.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SEVEN-HUNDREDTH_BIRTHDAY_OF_A_GERMAN_CAPITAL" id="THE_SEVEN-HUNDREDTH_BIRTHDAY_OF_A_GERMAN_CAPITAL"></a>THE SEVEN-HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF A GERMAN CAPITAL.</h2> + + +<p>Most of our countrymen look upon Germany as all one. The varieties of +outlandish customs, costumes, and dialects observed among our emigrant +population from that land are little noticed, and never regarded as +marking districts of the fatherland from which they severally sprung. +One of the most fruitful themes of pleasant humor and biting sarcasm in +our periodical literature and in the popular mouth, is the ignorance +betrayed by enlightened foreigners, and especially foreign journalists, +in regard to the geography of our country; as though America were, <i>par +excellence</i>, THE land, and on whatever other subject the world might, +without meriting our contempt, fail to inform itself, our country, not +only in its glorious history and more glorious destiny, but in the +minuter details of the picture, must be understood and acknowledged. +This charge of ignorance is not unfounded. Often have I been not a +little amused when an intelligent German has inquired of me as a New +Yorker, with the sure hope of news from his friend in Panama, or another +to learn how he might collect a debt from a merchant at Valparaiso, or a +third to be informed why he received no answers to letters addressed to +friends in Cuba, and so on. But if the tables were turned upon us, there +is no point on which we should be found open to a more fearful +retribution than on this. I know an American gentleman of education—and +he told me the story himself—who applied at Washington for letters to +our diplomatic representatives in Europe, and who had sufficiently +informed himself to be on the point of sailing for several years' +residence abroad, and still, when letters were handed him for our +consul-general at Frankfort and our minister in Prussia, asked, with no +little concern, whether a letter to our minister in <i>Germany</i> could not +be given him. I knew a correspondent of a New York journal fearfully to +scourge a distinguished German for his ignorance of American geography. +The same person, after months of residence in Munich, having about +exhausted the resources which it offered him for his correspondence, +gave a somewhat detailed account of the affairs of Greece, in which he +referred to King Otho as <i>brother</i> of King Lewis of Bavaria, although +almost any peasant could have told him that the latter was <i>father</i> to +the former.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there is nothing strange about this, unless it be that any one +should deem himself quite above the class of blunders which he +satirizes. It is less to be wondered at that one should continue to hurl +his satiric javelins at those who commit the same class of errors with +himself, since he seldom becomes aware of his own ridiculous mistakes. +In regard to Germany, our people know but its grand divisions and its +large cities; and of its people among us but their exterior +distinctions, and mainly those offered to the eye, arrest attention. We +meet them as servants or employés in kitchens, shops, and gardens, and +on farms, or as neighbors, competitors, or associates in business. At +evening we separate, and they go to their own domestic or social +circles, where alone the native character speaks itself freely forth in +the native language and dialect. There only the homebred wit and humor +freely flow and flash. There the half-forgotten legends and +superstitions, the utterance of which to other ears than those of their +own people is forbidden—perhaps by a slight sense of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> shame, perhaps by +the utter failure of language,—together with the pastimes and +adventures of their native villages or districts, are arrested in their +rapid progress to oblivion, as they are occasionally called forth to +amuse the dull hours or lighten the heavy ones of a home-sick life in a +foreign land. Could we but half enter into the hearts of the peasant +Germans who move among us, and are by some regarded as scarcely raised +in refinement and sensibility above the rank of the more polished +domestic animals of our own great and enlightened land, we should often +find them replete with the choicest elements of the truly epic, the +comic, and the tragic.</p> + +<p>How seldom do the people of different lands and languages learn to +understand each other—become so well acquainted as to appreciate each +other's most engaging traits? The German emigrant seeks a home among us, +and desires to identify himself with us. The costume of his native +district is thrown off as soon as he needs a new garment, often much +sooner. His language is laid aside except for domestic use and certain +social and business purposes, as soon as he has a few words of ours. +These words serve the ends of business, and rarely does he ever learn +enough for any other purpose. The other parts of the man remain +concealed from our view. He is to us a pure utilitarian of the grossest +school. His pipe suspended from his mouth, his whole time given to his +shop, his farm, or his garden, and to certain amusements unknown to us, +he is deemed to vegetate much like the plants he grows, or to live a +life on the same level with that of the animal he feeds, incapable of +appreciating those higher and more refined pleasures to which we have +risen—in other words, the true type of dulness and coarseness. An +intelligent Welshman once told me that he could not talk religion in +English nor politics in Welsh. So with the Germans among us. Their +business and politics learn to put themselves into English, their +religious, domestic, and social being remains forever shut up in the +enclosure of their mother tongue, and from this we rashly judge that +what they express is all there is of them. We have never considered the +difficulty of transferring all the utterances of humanity from their +first and native mediums to foreign ones. It is easy to learn the daily +wants of life or the formal details of business in a new language. Here +words have a uniform sense. But the nice shades and turns of thought +which appear in the happiest and most delicate jets of wit and humor, +and which form the great staples of pleasant social intercourse, depend +upon those subtile discriminations in the sense of words which are +rarely acquired by foreigners. One may have all the words of a language +and not be able to understand them in sallies of wit. How nicely +adjusted then must be the scales which weigh out the innumerable and +delicate bits of pleasantry which give the charm to social life! The +words to relate the legends connected with the knights and castles of +chivalry, saints, witches, elves, spooks, and gypsies, the foreigners +among us never acquire, or at least never so as to have the ready and +delicate use of them in social life, until their foreign character has +become quite absorbed in the fully developed American, and the taste, if +not the material for picturing the customs and legends of the fatherland +are forever gone.</p> + +<p>It is mainly North Germany with whose institutions we have become more +or less familiar through our newspaper literature, and the numbers of +students who have from time to time gone thither for educational +purposes. Some acquaintance has also been made with Baden and +Wirtemberg, in South Germany, as these principalities have a population +mainly Protestant; and Heidelberg, at least, has been a favorite resort +for American students. But the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> same is not true of Catholic South +Germany. Munich's collections and institutions of art—mainly the work +of the late and still living King Lewis I.—have, indeed, become +generally known. Mary Howitt, in her 'Art Student in Munich,' has given +us some graphic delineations of life there. The talented and witty +Baroness Tautphoens has done us still better service in her 'Initials' +and 'Quits,' in relation both to life in the capital and in the +mountains; yet the character, institutions, and customs of the people +remain an almost unexplored field to the American reader.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the twelfth century Munich was still an insignificant +village on the Isar, and had not even been erected into a separate +parish. About this time Henry the Lion added to his duchy of Saxony, +that of Bavaria, and having destroyed the old town of Foehring, which +lay a little below the site of Munich on the other side of the river, +transferred to the latter place the market and the collection of the +customs, which had till then been held by the bishops of Freising with +the imperial consent. The emperor Frederic I., in the year 1158, +confirmed, against the remonstrances of Bishop Otho I., the doings of +Henry. The duke hastened to surround the village with a wall and moat to +afford protection to those who might choose to settle there, and in +twenty years it had become a city. But the duke fell into disgrace with +the emperor, and the latter revoked the rights he had granted; but this +was like taking back a slander which had already been circulated. The +effect had been produced. Munich was to become a capital.</p> + +<p>Bishop Otho's successor would gladly have destroyed the infant city and +the bridge which had been the making of it. In consequence, however, of +his early death, this beneficent purpose toward his see of Freising +remained unexecuted. The next successor continued the same policy. He +built a castle with the design of seizing the trading trains which +should take the road to Munich, perhaps deeming this the best way of +magnifying his office as a leader in the church militant. But before he +could achieve his purpose of cutting off all supplies from the rival +town, and turning trade and tribute all to his own place, a new defender +of the rising city had sprung up in the house of Wittelsbocher—the same +which still reigns over the kingdom of Bavaria,—and the matter of the +feud was finally adjusted by the quiet surrender of the bridge and the +tolls to the city.</p> + +<p>The imperial decree, therefore, of 1158, must be regarded as having laid +the foundation of Munich as a city, and accordingly the seven hundredth +anniversary of its founding was celebrated in the year 1858. I shall +place a notice of this <i>fête</i> at the head of the list of those which +occurred during my residence in that capital.</p> + +<p>It was a part of the plan that the ceremony of laying the foundation of +a new bridge over the Isar should be performed by the king. This was +deemed specially appropriate, because the springing up of the city had +depended upon a bridge over the river to draw thither the trade which +had gone to the old Freising. This occurred on Sunday, and I did not see +it. I never heard, however, but that his majesty acquitted himself as +well in this stone mason's work as he does in the affairs of court or +state—just as well, perhaps, as one of our more democratic Chief +Magistrates, accustomed to splitting rails or other kinds of manual +labor, would have done. I took a walk with my children at evening, and +met the long line of court carriages returning, followed by a procession +on foot, the archbishop, with some church dignitaries, walking under a +canopy and distributing, by a wave of the hand at each step of his +progress, his blessing to the crowds which thronged both sides of the +broad street. Some, perhaps, prized this more than we did,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> but I do not +suppose that there was anything in the nature of the blessing or in the +will of the benevolent prelate to turn it from our heretical heads.</p> + +<p>The other parts of this celebration consisted in dinners, plays in the +theatres, a meeting at the <i>Rathhaus</i>, at which were read papers on the +development of Munich for the seven hundred years of its existence, and +a procession, the whole occupying about a week. I shall only notice +specially the procession, and in connection with it the art exhibition +for all Germany, which closed at the same time, having been in progress +for three months; for the two greatly contributed to each other.</p> + +<p>The illustrated weekly, published at Stuttgart by the well-known +novelist Hacklaender, under the title of <i>Ueber Land und Meer</i>, refers +to these festivities in the following terms:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Munich, the South German metropolis of art, was, during the +closing days of September, transformed into a festive city. The +German artists had assembled from all parts of the country, that +they might, within those walls, charmed by the genius of the muses, +wander through the halls in which the academy had collected the +best works of German art, and take counsel upon the common +interests, as they had formerly done at Bingen and Stuttgart. The +artists and the magistracy vied with each other in preparing happy +days for the visitors—an emulation which was crowned with the most +delightful results. The artists' festival, however, was but the +harbinger to the the city of the great seventh centennial birthday +festival of the Bavarian capital, which had been so long in +preparation, and was waited for with such impatience. Concerts and +theatres opened the festal series. Services in all the churches of +both confessions consecrated the coming days, and the laying of the +foundation of the new bridge over the Isar, leading to the +Maximilianeum, formed, historically, a monumental memorial for the +occasion. Favored by the fairest of weather, the city celebrated +the main festival on the 27th of September. It was a historical +procession, moved through all the principal streets of the city, +and caused departed centuries to pass in full life before the eyes +of the citizens and the vast assemblage of strangers there present. +It was no masquerade, but a true picture of the civilization of the +city, from its first appearance in history to the present day—'a +mirrored image,' says a chronicler of the festival, 'of times long +since gone by.</p> + +<p>'The twelfth century opened the procession—representations of the +present time in science, art, and industry, as developed under the +reigns of Lewis and Maximilian, which have been so promotive of all +that is great, closed it up. But one voice was heard in regard to +the success of this festival.'</p></div> + +<p>The plan was to let representatives of the people for this whole period +of seven hundred years pass before the eyes of the spectators in the +fashions and costumes of their respective ages, bearing the implements +or badges of their several guilds or professions. The preparation had +been begun months beforehand. Artists had been employed to sketch +designs. The best had been selected. The costumes were historical. We +see sometimes in every part of our country, costumes extemporized from +garrets for old folks' concerts and other like occasions, but generally +they do not correspond with each other, or with the performances. The +result is committed to accident. The actors wear what their meagre +wardrobes of the antique furnish. The wider the divergence from present +fashions the better. Chance may bring together the styles of a dozen +successive periods, and render the whole without coherence. In such an +exhibition our interest is felt simply in the grotesque. It shows us how +a countenance familiar to us is set off by a strange and outlandish +costume. It represents no history. Such was not this procession. Its +front had twelfth century costumes of peasants, burghers, and even the +ducal family. So down to the very day of the festival; for statues of +the present royal family on open cars closed up the long line. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> did +not seem indeed quite right that the successive ages of the dead should +pass before us living, and the living age alone lifeless. In one part of +the procession was an imperial carriage of state drawn by six horses, a +man in livery leading each horse, with all the necessary footmen, +outriders, and outrunners. The whole was antiquity and novelty happily +combined. The costumes and insignia of all classes, with the tools and +implements of all handicrafts, from the day when Duke Henry and Bishop +Otho, seven hundred years before, had had their petty bickerings about +the tolls of a paltry village, down to the present day, the whole +transformed into a living panorama, and made to pass in about four hours +before the eye.</p> + +<p>To set forth great things by small, a bridal pair remove from the East +and settle in our Western wilds. In a score of years they return to +their native place, wearing the very garments in which they had stood up +and been pronounced husband and wife. The picture is equal to a volume +of history and one of comedy, the two bound in one. But here, instead of +a score of <i>years</i> we have a score of <i>ages</i>, reaching back to a period +farther beyond that great popular movement in which modern society had +its birth, than that is anterior to our own age. If all the costumes, +fashions, implements, and tools of the house, the shop, and the field, +insignia and liveries, from those of the first Dutch settlers of New +Amsterdam, down to those of New York's belles, beaux, and beggars of the +present day, should be made to pass in review before us, how absurdly +grotesque would be the scene! That veritable 'History of New York from +the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty, by Diedrick +Knickerbocker,' has perhaps shaken as many sides and helped digest as +many dinners as almost any book since Cervantes gave the world his +account of the adventures of his knight Don Quixote, and yet this great +historical work hints but a part of that picture, though doubtless +greatly improved by the author's delicate touches, which would pass +before us in a procession illustrating two centuries of New York's +history. Using such hints, the reader may partially judge of the +impression made by this setting forth of seven centuries of a capital of +Central Europe, and yet one can hardly tell, without the trial, whether +he would rather smile at the grotesqueness of the pageant, or be lost in +the profound contemplation of the magnificent march of history reënacted +in this drama.</p> + +<p>This procession spoke but to the eye. It was but a tableau, dumb, though +in its way eloquent. It detailed no actions; it only hinted them. It +simply presented the men who acted, clad in the outward garb, and +bearing the tools and weapons of their day. The cut of a garment, the +form of a helmet or halberd, a saddle or a semitar, a hoe or a hatchet, +or the cut of the hair or the beard, may speak of the heart and soul, +only, however, by distant hints. But just as the representation is less +distinct and detailed, is it a mightier lever for imagination to use in +raising again to life centuries which had long slept in the dust. The +superstructure of history, indeed, which we should rear upon such a +basis, would be wide of the truth on one side, just as the narratives +and philosophical disquisitions which come to us under that name are on +the other. History generally relates those things in which all ages have +been most alike—the same which have 'been from the beginning and ever +shall be'—the intrigues of courts and of diplomacy—varied mainly by +the influence of the religion of the Bible, as at first persecuted, then +rising by degrees to a rank either with or above the state, and becoming +a persecuting power, and then finally modifying and softening down the +native rudeness of the human race, until mutual and universal tolerance +is the re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>sult; court life, diplomacy, and war, however, remaining and +still to remain the perpetual subjects of historical composition. But +between this elevated range and the humble one of burghers' tools and +costumes, lies a boundless field of aspect, variegated with all the +forms which checker social and domestic life. Oh!—thought a little +group of American spectators occupying a room near the corner of Ludwig +and Theresien streets—could we but rend the veil of time which conceals +Munich's seven hundred years of burgher and peasant life, how odd, how +rude a scene would present itself! The reader's fancy may make the +attempt. I will aid a little if I can, and there was indeed some +material furnished in addresses prepared for that occasion, and in some +other papers which have come into my hands.</p> + +<p>The people of that little village on the banks of the Isar were but the +owners and tillers of the barren soil. Nearly a century (1238) after +Henry the Lion had surrounded it with walls, and a local magistracy had +been chosen; when two parishes—those of St. Peter and St. Mary—had +been already long established, we find a schoolmaster signing, doubtless +by virtue of his office, a certificate of the freedom of a certain +monastery from the city customs. That the school teacher must, <i>ex +officio</i>, sign such papers, spoke volumes. How few could have had the +learning, for it must indeed be done in Latin. And then the history of +the city runs nearly a century back of this date. What was the burgher +life of that first century of Munich's history? It is but the faintest +echo that answers. Schools there were at that day and long before. Nay, +the cloister schools were already in decay; but more than three hundred +years were yet to elapse before the rise of the Jesuit schools. Three +hundred years! How can we, of this age of steam, estimate what was +slowly revolving in society in those years? In 1271 we find an order of +the bishop of Freising requiring the parish rector to have a school in +each parish of the city; half a century later than this we meet +documentary evidence that school teaching had assumed a rank with other +worldly occupations, and was no longer subject to the rector of the +parish. If I could but set the reader down in a school room of that day, +I might forego any attempt to portray the times; but, alas! I cannot. He +would, however, doubtless see there groups of boys—for I half suspect +that this was before girls had generally developed the capability of +learning—the faces and garments clean or smutty, showing the grade of +social progress which had been gained, for we may presume that the use +of soap and water had been to some extent introduced, and if so, I have +erred again, for the dirty and the ragged did not go to school. These +could do without education. We should see, too, the beaming or the dull +and leaden eye—if, indeed, the eye spoke then as now—proclaiming the +master's success or failure. And then the schoolmaster, the chief figure +in the group, would be found to have the <i>otium cum dignitate</i>, and +especially the former, in a higher sense than is now known. And what was +the staple information which circulated among the people? Of this we +know more. It was made up of adventures of knights, miracles wrought by +the host, by crucifixes and Madonnas, and apparitions of saints, leading +some emperor or prince to found a church or monastery—a kind of history +which few churches or other religious institutions want. If there was +less of life in the humanity of that age than we have at present, there +was as much more in other things; for even those holy pictures and +statues could move their eyes and other parts. They found various ways +of expressing approbation of the pious, and frowning upon scoffers. +Crucifixes and Madonnas, carried by freshets over barren fields, brought +fertility. The devil, too, figured more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> largely in the narratives of +days before printed books formed the basis of education. He generally +appeared in the persons of giants and witches, which latter were his +agents by special contract. Their freaks had all shades of enormity, +from the slight teasing of the housewife in her baking and churning to +the peril of life and limb and endless perdition. The devil sometimes +coming in one of these forms endangered the lives of the quiet people of +the city by formally dismissing the watch between the hours of eleven +and twelve o'clock at night. So hundreds of things which he has become +too genteel in our day to practise.</p> + +<p>The founding of the city was near the close of that great movement known +as the crusades. What a world of material these furnished to be used in +popular education! The feats of knights, instead of assuming distinct +forms and being stereotyped and told to them in books, were surrendered +to the popular mouth for preservation and propagation. Saints, angels, +and demons attached themselves from time to time to these circulating +myths. Original characters often dropped out, and the discrimination of +the wisest believer in the real and ideal, became confused. Then came +the period of the Hussite war. This gave rise to many a miracle of +divine judgment. The Bohemian mocker of the holy mass, or of some +wonder-working statue of the Virgin, is pursued with divine vengeance. +The Jews—how suggestive the name, in the history of mediæval Europe, of +mystery, miracle, and murder!—were early allowed to settle in Munich. +They were assigned to a particular street. In the year 1285 a story was +started—it had been long stereotyped, and editions of it circulated in +every part of Christendom—of the murder of a Christian child. A +persecution of the Jews was the result—one hundred and forty were +burned in their own houses—and the poor Israelites must doubtless +suffer without redress, although many of them were then, as they now +are, bankers and brokers to the spiritual and temporal lords. Not far +from the same time the ducal mint was destroyed, because the people were +enraged to find the metal in their coin growing alarmingly less. For +this the city must pay a fine.</p> + +<p>From our first knowledge of this town it continued gradually, but very +slowly, to advance in intelligence—we should rather say from century to +century than from year to year; for during this period progress was too +slow to be perceptible, unless the observation were verified by the +pillars erected to mark the boundary lines between successive centuries. +The inquirer into the past often sighs out the wish that art had found a +way to transmit full impressions of all departed generations to the +latest living one. Perhaps he prudently limits the desired favor to +himself, otherwise the wish would not be wise; its realization would +place every lazy observer upon the same level with the studious +investigator. The cumbrous details, too, of sixty centuries piled upon +one mind would crush it, unless human nature were a very different thing +from that which we now behold. It is in accordance with a wise plan of +Providence that the deeds of past ages should perish with them, except +the few needed to cast their gleam of light upon the world's future +pathway. We are made capable of rescuing just enough for the highest +purposes of life, not enough to overwhelm and burden us in our march +toward the goal before us. It is thought by some that the point and +finish of the ancient Greek authors, as compared with the moderns, is +attributable to the fact that they were less perplexed with accumulated +lore and the multiplication of books and subjects of study. Their minds +were not subject to the dissipating effects of large libraries, and +daily newspapers with telegraphs from Asia, Africa, and Hesperia. I +shall not discuss this question. The amount of in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>formation handed down +from past ages even <i>now</i> is but as the spray which rises above the +ocean's surface to the vast depths which lie below. The historical +fossils of those ages are therefore left to exercise the genius of the +Cuviers of historical inquiry. As that naturalist could, from a single +bone of an extinct animal species, make up and describe the animal, so +have inquirers into the past succeeded in picturing a departed age from +the few relics left of it. Hence we are treated occasionally with such +agreeable surprises in the march of history as the discovery of Pompeii, +Herculaneum, and Nineveh. The genius of our Wincklemanns, Champollions, +Humboldts, and Layards has found a worthy field. Such days as that I am +attempting to describe, representing seven centuries of a modern capital +before the admiring eyes of the present generation of its people, become +possible. Instead of the monotony of a perpetual observation, we have +the charm of alternate lulls and surprises.</p> + +<p>This picture has a further likeness to the naturalist's description made +from the fossils of extinct genera of animals. In the latter the animal +is made to stand before us. We have the data necessary to infer his +habits. But we see him not perfect in his wilderness home of unnumbered +ages past. We see him not the pursuer or the pursued; we hear not the +fierce growls or the plaintive note of alarm or distress. These we must +imagine. So, too, the slowly and peacefully moving train which passes +our windows, setting forth the sleeping centuries of this city. There is +the emperor in state—dukes in ducal magnificence—knights in armor with +horses richly and fancifully caparisoned—citizens in the dress of their +times—the various mechanics' and traders' guilds, with their +implements, their badges and their banners, with priests thickly +scattered through the whole line, which is ever changing as the +representatives of one age succeed those of another. The whole is calm +and quiet. The fierce contests, the angry broils, private and +public—now throwing the whole city into a ferment of innocent alarm, +now deluging its streets with blood—the rage of plagues, sealing up the +sources of human activity, and causing the stillness of the grave to +settle over the scene—all these we must supply; and surely the +thoughtful mind is busy in doing this as it contemplates the passing +train. We conceive rival claimants for the ducal throne, contending, +regardless of dying counsel, until death again settles what death had +thrown open to contest. Everything which has ever transpired on the +theatre of the world's great empires, may be conceived as enacted on +this narrower stage. The difference is less in talents and prowess than +in the extent of the field and the numbers of actors.</p> + +<p>From the period of the Reformation down we can form the picture with +more distinctness. Seehofen, son of a citizen of Munich, while a student +at Wittenberg, received Luther's doctrine, and through him many of his +townsmen. The most learned and able opponent whom the Reformer had to +encounter was John Eck, chancellor of the Bavarian University of +Ingolstadt—one of the most renowned at that day in Europe—which, by +removal to the capital, has now become the University of Munich. In 1522 +Duke William, of Bavaria, issued an edict forbidding any of his people +to receive the reformed doctrine. Bavaria, therefore, remained Catholic, +and Munich became the headquarters of German Catholicism. The electoral +duke, Maximilian, of Bavaria, was head of the Catholic league which +carried on the 'Thirty Years' War' against the Protestants under +Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, in the early part of the seventeenth +century. The city is full of sayings derived from this whole period, +such as to leave us no ground to wonder that few Catholics are inclined +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> become Protestants. The only Protestant church in the city was built +within the last thirty years. It is but a few years since the house was +still shown in Scudlinger street, in which Luther, in his flight from +Augsburg, whither he had been called to answer for his teaching before +Cardinal di Vio in 1518,<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> stopped, his horse all in a foam, to take a +drink, and in his hurry forgot to pay for the piece of sausage which he +ate. In the market place was a likeness of Luther and his 'Katherl.'<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> +There are also numerous derisive pictures, such as the Reformer riding +upon a swine, with a sausage in his hand, which, however, all originated +in the mockery of the Jews, who were afterward compelled to surrender +some of them to the leading spirit of the Reformation. At Saurloch, a +little distance south of Munich, there were still, in 1840, to be seen +pictures of Luther and his wife in a group made up of chimney sweeps, +buffoons, and many others of the class. As this age passed before the +eyes of the spectators, they would doubtless give it new life by +attributing to it the spirit exemplified in these choice and tasteful +pictures and sayings, amusing at this day, doubtless, to both parties.</p> + +<p>The period of the 'Thirty Years' War' and the visit to Munich of +Gustavus Adolphus has left more sayings and monuments, and thus do more +honor to the people. After the Catholic victory near Prague, in 1620, +the elector celebrated a public entry into the city amid the jubilations +of the people and the Jesuits. A pillar was erected in remembrance of +the victory, and dedicated, eighteen years afterward, to the Virgin, in +accordance with a vow. The city was also variously adorned. The +rejoicing was somewhat premature. In 1632 the duchess and ducal family +had to remove to Salzburg for safety, whither they carried with them the +bones of St. Benno, the patron saint of the city, and other valuables. +The king of Sweden entered the walls under a promise, which he had made +in consideration of three hundred thousand florins, to be paid to him by +the people, to secure them against fire, sword, and plunder. Ladies +freely gave up their precious ornaments to make up the amount. But they +failed. The conqueror took forty-two priests of the religious orders, +and twenty respectable citizens, as hostages for the payment. These +wandered around with his camp for three years, and then all returned +except four, who died during the time. The traditions of the people give +the king credit for having strictly abstained from plunder, and executed +the only man who transgressed his rule, although the citizens failed on +their part. How beautifully the brilliant and the glorious mingle with +the sad and the sombre in the picture which we form of this age as the +passing train brings it before our minds! How religion, variously tinged +with the sable hues of superstition, wrought upon that age! The Swedish +king, the moment victory turns in his favor, dropping upon his knees in +the midst of the dead and the dying, the clouds of smoke and dust as yet +unsettled, pours out his soul in fervent prayer and thanksgiving.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> He +but represents his army and his age. The Catholic army are not less +devout in their way. Germany is full of monuments and sayings of this +period. Those of Munich are of the Catholic side. There stands in a +public square an equestrian statue of colossal size, in bronze, of the +elector Maximilian, head of the Catholic League—his pillar to the +Virgin still stands—and the great general of the League, Count Tilley, +represented in bronze, is among the prominent objects viewed by the +visitor to this capital. On the other hand, the greatest organization in +Europe for the aid of Protestants in Catholic lands, having branches +everywhere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> bears the name of Gustavus Adolphus. Let the reader then +conceive the visions which flit through the minds of the spectators as +this age passes in review before them.</p> + +<p>But here I shall close this part of the picture. The description of the +city as it now exists belongs in other connections. It has been +suggested, as greatly adding to the interest of this birthday festival +of the capital, that it concurred in time with the exhibition of the art +of all Germany in the Crystal Palace. Although the two had no natural +connection, yet they became so intertwined in fact as not easily to be +separated. I shall therefore just touch upon the art display.</p> + +<p>Works of art are dry subjects of description, and that too just in the +proportion of their exquisiteness to behold. Things made for the eye +must be presented to the eye. Works of a coarse and comic nature can, +indeed, be described so as to produce their effect. Here, for instance, +is a railroad-station man. Such in Bavaria, dressed in their quaint +little red coats, must stand with the hand to the hat as if in token of +profound respect for the train while it passes. This one, when lathered +and half shaved, was suddenly called by the train, and in this +predicament he stands while it passes. The best new work in the +exhibition was one in water colors by Professor Schwind, of Munich, +setting forth the popular German myth of the seven ravens. It sold to a +prince for seven thousand florins. I know better than to attempt a +description. The 'Raising of Jairus' Daughter,' a picture sent on by the +king of Prussia, gave the best impression I have ever had of life once +departed, and now suddenly beginning again to quiver on the lip and +gleam in the eye; or as Willis has it:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">'And suddenly a flush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot o'er her forehead and along her lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through her cheek the rallied color ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the still outline of her graceful form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirred in the linen vesture;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>thus changing the sadness of the family assembled round the couch into a +lustre sympathetic with that of her own reopened eyes.</p> + +<p>These specimens have been given to show that such subjects are incapable +of description. The exhibition continued from June to October, and the +collection was so extensive that a shorter period would have been +scarcely sufficient for the study of works exhibited. During this time +the characteristic enthusiasm and jealousies of the artists were +variously exemplified. The delightful hours spent in walking through +these halls will be among my latest remembrances.</p> + +<p>This whole festive period culminated with the closing days of September. +The city had been unusually full all summer, but as its great birthday +festival approached, the crowds thickened, until its capacity for +lodging room had been transcended. All parts of Germany were +represented, nor did delegates from the rest of the civilized world +fail.</p> + +<p>The question naturally arises, whether New York, Boston, or Philadelphia +has a history which would appear well in such a drama! Although our +history extends back over little more than one fourth of the period +occupied by that of Munich, it might afford this material. The annals of +public events would be found preserved with great fulness and +distinctness—the archives of city and state councils and of the +churches would supply the needed facts—but who could furnish the +fashions, tools, and implements of each successive age from that of the +Pilgrim fathers to that of the great rebellion? Who would perform the +labor of research necessary to ascertain what they were? Where is the +American court, supported at an expense of several millions per annum, +to preserve all these in collections, or to get them up for court +theatres? Who would pay for making all these for a procession of twenty +thousand persons, with all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> necessary horses and carriages? And +surely, if we could not feel the confidence that everything was +historical, all our interest in the display would be gone. I am +apprehensive that we shall be obliged to leave such exhibitions to those +countries which have hereditary heads, and, making a virtue of +necessity, console ourselves with the thought that we have something +better.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Luther was not in Munich at that time, if indeed he ever +was.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Catherine Bora, Luther's wife.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>Vide</i> Schiller's 'Geschichte des dreisigjährigen +Krieges.'</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DANISH_SAILOR" id="THE_DANISH_SAILOR"></a>THE DANISH SAILOR.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far by the Baltic shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where storied Elsinore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rears its dark walls, invincible to time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where yet Horatio walks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with Marcellus talks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Hamlet dreams soliloquy sublime;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though forms of Old Romance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mail-clad, with shield and lance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are laid in 'fair Ophelia's' watery tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, passion rules her hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, Hate, Revenge, have power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearts, in Elsinore, know joy and gloom.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grouped round a massy gun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black sleeping in the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The belted gunners list to many a tale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told by grim Jarl, the tar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Danish dog of war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his young days in battle and in gale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The medal at his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The single-sleeved blue vest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His thin, white hair, tossed by the Norway breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His knotted, horny hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrinkled face, dark tanned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell of the times when Nelson sailed the seas.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Steam-winged, upon the tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gallant vessel glides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two royal flags float blended at her fore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay convoyed by a fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose answering guns repeat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joyous 'God speeds' thundered from the shore.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Look, comrades! there she goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Denmark's Royal Rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plucked but to wither on a foreign strand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can Copenhagen's dames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forget their country's shames—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sons, unblushing, clasp a British hand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Since that dark day of shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which blends with Nelson's fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the prince of all the land led us on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I little thought to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our noblest bend the knee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To any English queen, or her son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'What the fate of battle gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To our victor on the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was as nothing to the bitter, conscious sting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That our haughty island foe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struck a sudden, traitor blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the blessed peace of God and the king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ay, you were not yet born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that cursed April morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they sprang like red wolves on their prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our princeliest and best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By our humblest lay at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the heart's blood of Denmark, on that day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'And now, their lady queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er our martyrs' graves between,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stoops to cull our cherished bud for her heir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the servile, fickle crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shout their shameless joy aloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All but one old crippled tar—<i>who was there</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Till the memory shall fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that treach'rous, bloody tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the grief, and the rage, and the wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall enforce atonement due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On some Danish Waterloo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be chanted by our countrymen in song,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I will keep my love and truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the Denmark of my youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor clasp hands with her enemies alive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, I'd train this very gun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that British prince and son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who comes <i>here</i>, in his arrogance, to wive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'When I gave my good right arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my blood was spouting warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er my dying brother's face, as we lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I played a better part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bore a prouder heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the proudest in that pageant bears to-day.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'—There floats the Royal Bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that unreturning tide;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the blood of all the sea-kings of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twere better for her fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Denmark sunk her shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the maelstrom might drown it in his roar!'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was silence for a space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they gazed upon his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark with grief, and with passion overwrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out spoke a foreign tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gunner-group among:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neow old Jarl ses the thing he hed'nt ought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'This idee of keeping mad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half a cent'ry, is too bad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis onchristian, and poor policy beside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they say that the young man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has the 'brass to buy the pan,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>her</i> folks are putty sure that he'll <i>provide</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 45%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old seaman's scornful eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced mute, but stern reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Yankee vowed and swore to me, the bard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That old Jarl, that very night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the northern moon's cold light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talked with Hamlet's father's ghost in the back yard.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AMERICAN_CIVILIZATION" id="AMERICAN_CIVILIZATION"></a>AMERICAN CIVILIZATION.</h2> + + +<p>There are two opposite standpoints from which American civilization will +be regarded both by the present and future generations; opposite both in +respect to the views they give of American society and the judgment to +be formed thereon: so opposing, in fact, that they must ever give rise +to conflicting opinions, which can only be reconciled in individual +instances by the actual occurrence of great events, and never when +dealing with generalities. These two far distant points of view are the +foreign and the native. We are, more perhaps than any other nation in +existence, a peculiar people. Our institutions are new and in most +respects original, and cannot be judged by the experience of other +nations. Our manner of life and modes of thought—all our ideas of +individual and national progress, are <i>sui generis</i>, and our experience, +both social and political, as based upon those ideas, has been similar +to that of no other race which history records. Hence to the foreign +historian or philosopher our inner life is a sealed book; he can neither +understand the hidden springs of action which govern all the movements +of our body politic, nor appreciate the motives or the aspirations of +the American mind: in a word, he can never be imbued with the <i>spirit</i> +of our intellectual and moral life, which alone can give the key-note to +prophecy, the pitch and tone to true and impartial history. And he who, +reasoning from the few <i>à priori</i> truths of human nature, or from those +characteristics which the American mind possesses in common with that of +the Old World, shall pretend to treat of our systems and our +intellectual life, or to map out our future destiny, will be as much at +fault as the historian of a thousand years ago who should attempt to +portray the events of this our day and generation. The historian of +American civilization must not only be among us, but <i>of</i> us—one who is +able not only to identify his material interests with those of the great +American people, but also to partake of our moral habitudes, to be +actuated by the same feelings, desires, aspirations, and be governed by +the same motives. By such an one alone, who is able to understand our +moral life in all its phases and bearings, can a clear and truthful view +be taken of the great events which are continually agitating our +society, and their bearings upon our present and future civilization be +correctly estimated.</p> + +<p>It is precisely from lack of this sympathy and of appreciation of the +difficulties under which we have labored, that America has suffered in +the opinion of the world. For the foreign view, looking upon us not as a +new people, but as the offshoot of an old and cultivated race, has +conceded to us little more than a certain mechanical ingenuity in +fitting together the parts of an edifice built upon a foundation already +laid for us away back in the ages—a carrying out of plans already +perfected for us, and requiring little of originality for their +development; forgetting that oftentimes the laying of the foundation is +the easiest part of the work, while the erection and embellishment of +the superstructure has taxed the efforts of the loftiest genius. In so +far as regards the development of the national mind, the strengthening +of the originating and energetic faculties, and the capability of +profound and well directed thought arising therefrom, we are, as a race, +deeply indebted to our progenitors of the Old World, and we have reaped +therefrom a great advantage over other nationalities in their inception. +But aside from these benefits, the cultivation of the race before the +settlement of our country has been rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> a hamper upon our progress. +For here was to be inaugurated a new civilization, upon a different +basis from and entirely incompatible with that of the Old World; here +was to be established an idea antagonistic to those of the preexisting +world, and evolving a new and more progressive social life, which needed +not only a new sphere and new material, but also entire freedom from the +restraints of the old-time civilization. And it is harder to unlearn an +old lesson than to learn a new. The institutions and modes of thought of +the Old World are to the last degree unfavorable to the progress of such +a nationality as ours. Their tendency being toward the aggrandizement of +the few and the centralization of power, renders them wholly +incompatible with that freedom of thought and action, that opening up of +large fields of exertion as well as of the road to distinction and +eminence, with all their incentives to effort, which are the very life +of a majestic republic stretching over a large portion of the earth's +surface, embracing such mixed nationalities, and founded upon principles +of progress both in its physical and mental relations which have +rendered it in very truth a new experiment among the nations. We had +first to forget the divine right of kings, and the invidious +distinctions of class, with all their deep-seated and time-honored +prejudices, and to start forward in a different and hitherto despised +path toward which the iron hand of our necessity pointed, and in which +all men should be considered equal in their rights, and the position of +each should depend, not upon the distance to which he could trace a +proud genealogy, but upon the energy with which he should grapple with +the stern realities of life, the honesty and uprightness with which he +should tread its path, and the use he should make of the blessings which +God and his own exertions bestowed upon him. We had to learn the great +but simple lesson that</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The rank is but the guinea's stamp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man's the man for a' that;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and in so doing, to accept, for a time, the position of the Pariahs of +Christendom, through the imputation of degrading all things high and +noble to the rank of the low and vulgar, of casting the pearls of a +lofty and ennobled class before the swinish multitude, of throwing open +the doors of the treasury, that creatures of low, plebeian blood might +grasp the crown jewels which had for ages been kept sacred to the +patrician few; in a word, we had to take upon ourselves all the odium of +a despised democracy—a moral agrarianism which should make common +property of all blessings and privileges, and mingle together all +things, pure and impure, in one common hotch-potch of corruption and +degradation. Greater heresy than all this was not then known, and the +philosopher of to-day has little conception of the sacrifice required of +those who would at that time accept such a position.</p> + +<p>Another and not less important lesson which our ancestors had to learn +was, that national prosperity which depends upon the learning and +refinement or energy of a certain privileged class, can never be +otherwise than ephemeral; that the common people—the low plebeians, +whom they had been taught to consider of the least importance in the +state, are in reality the strength of the land; and that in the +amelioration of their condition, in the education and mental training of +the masses, while at the same time placing before them the highest +incentives to individual exertion, lies the only sure basis of an +enduring prosperity—that the only healthful national growth is that +which is made up of the individual strivings of the great mass rather +than the self-interested movements of the few; and as a consequence of +this truth, that the privileged minority is really the least important +of the two classes in any community. In the infancy of government, when +a rude and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> unlettered people are little able to take care of +themselves, the establishment of class distinctions is undoubtedly +conducive to progress, as it tends to unite the people, thereby +counteracting the thousand petty jealousies and strifes and bickerings +which invariably beset an infant people, and to organize and systematize +all progressive effort. It is, in fact, a putting of the people to +school under such wholesome restraints as shall compel them forward +while guarding them against those evil influences which militate against +their prosperity. But in the course of events the time comes when these +restraints are no longer necessary, but rather become hampers upon the +wheels of progress; and when that period arrives, all these invidious +distinctions should, in a well-regulated state, gradually disappear and +give place to that freedom which is essential to individual advancement +as the basis of national power. Trained as our ancestors had been to +consider these distinctions divinely appointed, it was no easy task for +them to abrogate so aged and apparently sacred a system, and nothing but +the material evidence before their eyes in the experience of their own +society, convincing them that such a course was an actual necessity of +their future well-being, could have induced them so to depart from the +teachings of their progenitors. Nor was it less difficult to determine +how far these safeguards of the olden time might safely be dispensed +with, or where or how deeply the knife should be applied which, in the +fallibility of human judgment, might possibly cut away some main root of +their social organization. Here was required the exercise of the +profoundest wisdom and the most careful discretion—wisdom unassisted by +any experience in the past history of the world other than that of the +utter failure of all past experiments in any way similar to their own. +To us of to-day, viewed in the light of intervening experience and of +the increased knowledge of human affairs, this may seem a little thing; +but to them it was not so, for the path was new and untried, and they +were surrounded by the thickest of darkness. Thus it will be seen that +in the founding of our system there were great difficulties, which only +the loftiest aims and the utmost firmness and determination in the cause +of the good and the true, with the liveliest sense of the necessities +and the yearnings of human nature, and the true end of all human +existence, could have overcome,—difficulties which, with all the +cultivation of their past, rendered their task not less arduous than +that of the founders of any community recorded in history even among the +rudest and most savage of peoples. And for all their energy and +perseverance the world has not yet given them the credit which is their +due, although the yearly developing results of their labors are +gradually restoring them to their proper position in the appreciation of +humanity. And the time will come when their memory will be cherished all +over the earth as that of the greatest benefactors of the human kind. As +the Alpine glacier year after year heaves out to its surface the bodies +of those who many decades ago were buried beneath the everlasting snows, +so time in its revolutions heaves up to the view of the world, one by +one, the great facts of the buried past, to be carefully laid away in +the graveyard of memory, with a towering monument above them to mark to +all succeeding ages the spot where they have wrought in the interest of +humanity.</p> + +<p>Another evil effect of this same foreign view is to lead the world to +expect of us, the descendants of an old and polished civilization, more +than is warranted by the facts of our history or even by the +capabilities of human nature in its present stage. And this, too, arises +from a false estimate of the difficulties which have beset us on every +side, and from the paucity of the world's experience, and consequent +knowledge, of such experiments as our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> own. The march of human +advancement has but just begun in this its new path; and it is but +little wonder that, excited by our past successes, and stimulated to an +inordinate degree as their ideas of progress have become through the new +truths which our efforts have brought to light, the friends of human +freedom all over the world should expect from us more astonishing +developments, more rapid progress, than is compatible with the frailties +and fallibilities of our humanity. Hence in the light of this morbid +view our greatest successes are looked upon as somewhat below the +standard which our advantages demand.</p> + +<p>With the foreign view we, as a nation, have nothing to do. We must be +content to act entirely independently of the opinions of the outside +world, being only careful steadfastly to pursue the path of right, +leaving to future ages to vindicate our ideas and our motives. So only +can we possess that true national independence which is the foundation +of all national dignity and worth, and the source of all progress. We +must free ourselves from all the hampering influences of old-time dogmas +and worn-out theories of social life, content to submit to the +aspersions of Old-World malice, confident that time will prove the +correctness of our policy. So only can we throw wide open the doors of +investigation, and give free scope to those truths which will not fail +to follow the earnest strivings of a great people for the purest right +and the highest good.</p> + +<p>In estimating any civilization at its true value, the law of God is +obviously the highest standard. Yet in these days of divided opinion and +extended scepticism, when scarcely any two hold exactly the same +religious views, and when all manner of beliefs are professedly founded +on Holy Writ, such a comparison would only result in as many different +estimates as there are reflecting minds, and the investigation would be +in no degree advanced. Even the moral sense of our own community is so +divided upon the distinctions of abstract right, that the application of +such a standard to our civilization would only open endless fields of +useless because interested and bigoted discussions.</p> + +<p>There are two other and more feasible methods of conducting such an +investigation; the first of which is that of comparing our own +civilization with that of Europe; marking the differences, and judging +of them according to our knowledge of human nature and the light of past +experience and analogy. Yet such a course presents the serious objection +of preventing an impartial judgment through the strong temptation to +self-laudation, which is in itself the blinding of reason as well as the +counteraction of all aspirations for a still higher good.</p> + +<p>The third and last method is that which takes cognizance of the most +obvious and deeply felt evils connected with our own system, and +reasoning from universally conceded principles of abstract right, and +from the highest moral standard of our own society, to study how they +may best be remedied and errors most successfully combated. From such a +course of investigation truth cannot fail to be evolved, and the moral +appreciation of the thinker to be heightened. For such a method presents +less danger of partiality from local prejudices, religious bias, or +national antipathy. And such is the method which we shall endeavor to +pursue.</p> + +<p>Judging from mankind's sense of right, of justice, and of that moral +nobility which each individual's spiritual worthiness seems to demand, a +pure democracy is the highest and most perfect form of government. But +such a system presupposes a <i>perfect</i> humanity as its basis, a humanity +which no portion of the earth has yet attained or is likely to attain +for many ages to come. Hence the vices as well as the weaknesses of +human nature render certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> restraints necessary, which are more or +less severe according as the nation is advanced in moral excellence and +intellectual cultivation, and which must gradually disappear as the race +progresses, giving place to others newer and more appropriate to the +changing times and conditions of men. Under this view that progress in +the science of government is alone healthy which keeps exact pace with +the moral progress of the nation, and tends toward a pure democracy in +exactly the degree in which the people become fitted to appreciate, to +rationally enjoy, and faithfully guard the blessings of perfect liberty. +Too rapid progress leads to political anarchy by stimulating, to a +degree unsustained by their acquirements and natural ability, the +aspirations of the ambitious and the reckless, thereby begetting and +nationalizing a spirit of lawlessness which grasps continually at +unmerited honors, and strives to make all other and higher +considerations bend to that of individual advancement and personal +vanity. The truth of this position is seen in the utter failure of all +attempted democratic systems in the past, which may be traced to this +too eager haste in the march of human freedom, ending invariably in the +blackest of despotism, as well as from the fact in our own history that +every era of unusual political corruption and reckless strife for +position and power, has followed close upon the moral abrogation of some +one of those safeguards which the wisdom of our fathers threw around our +political system.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, advancement which does not keep pace with the +expansion of thought, the intellectual development, and consequent +capacity of the people for self-government, not only offers no +encouragement to effort, but actually discourages all striving, and +blunts the appetites of the searchers for truth. It fossilizes the +people, retards the march of intellect by its reactionary force, and +rolls backward the wheels of all progress, till the nation becomes a +community of dull, contented plodders, fixed in the ruts of a bygone +age, suffering all its energy and life to rust away, day by day, in +inaction. Such we find to be the case with those nations of the Old +World which are still ruled by the effete systems of a feudal age. The +governmental policy and the intellectual status of the masses mutually +react upon each other, effectually neutralizing all progress, whether +moral or physical.</p> + +<p>For these reasons that nicely graduated mean between political +recklessness and national old fogyism, which alone guarantees an +enduring progress, is the object of search to all disinterested +political reformers. For only by following such a golden mean, in which +political reform shall keep even pace with intellectual and moral +advancement, can physical and mental progress be made mutually to +sustain each other in the onward march. Yet this mean is extremely +difficult to find, for though we be guided by all the experience of the +past, and earnestly and sincerely endeavor to profit by the failures as +well as the successes of those who have gone before us, the paths of +experiment are so infinite and the combinations of method so boundless, +that the wisest may easily be led astray. Hence the failures of the +republics of the past, however pure the motives and lofty the aims of +their founders, may be attributed to a leaning to one side or the other +of this strait and narrow way, which lies so closely concealed amid the +myriad ramifications of the paths of method. The slightest divergence, +if it be not corrected, like the infinitesimal divergence of two +straight lines, goes on increasing to all time, till that which was at +first imperceptible, becomes at last a boundless ocean of intervening +space, which no human effort can bridge.</p> + +<p>To say that we, as a nation, are following closely this golden mean, +that our wisdom has enabled us to discover<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> that which for so many ages +has remained hidden from men, were simply egotistical bombast; for it +were to assert that with us human nature had lost its fallibility and +human judgment become unerring. Yet we may safely assert that no system +exists at the present day which so clearly tends toward the attainment +of such a mean, and which contains within itself so many elements of +reform, as our own. For ours is a system of extreme elasticity, a sort +of compensation balance, constructed with a view to the changing climate +of the political world, and capable of accommodating itself to the +shifting condition of men and things. And this not by forcing or leading +public sentiment, but by yielding to it. Thus while it is founded upon, +and in its workings evolves, so many lofty and ennobling truths, keeping +constantly before the eyes of the people lessons of purity and moral +dignity, acting as a check upon the visionary and a safeguard to our +liberties, it nevertheless yields quietly to the requirements of the +times, and changes according to the necessities of the governed, thus +being far from proving a hamper upon our intellectual advancement, but, +on the contrary, leaving free and unimpeded the paths of national +progress. And it is one of the most distinctive features of our +institutions that, while few foreign Governments admit of much change +without danger of revolution, with us the most thorough reforms may be +consummated and the greatest changes effected without danger of ruffling +the waves of our society. For with us change is effected so gradually +and in such exact consonance with the necessities of the people as to be +almost imperceptible, and to afford no handle to the turbulent and +designing revolutionist. The gratification of legitimate ambition is +guaranteed, but our system utterly revolts against the sacrifice of the +public good to the inordinate cravings of personal ambition or +aggrandizement. It is in recognition of this principle of gradual change +that the politician of to-day hesitates not to avow and to advocate +principles which twenty years ago he deemed the height of political +absurdity. It is not abstract truth that has altered, but the necessary +modification of theories resulting from the altered condition and +exigencies of society. Were this truth not recognized, no statesman +could for many years retain his hold upon the popular appreciation, for +he would at once be branded with inconsistency and incontinently thrown +aside as an unsafe counsellor. Hence the hackneyed phrase, 'ahead of the +times,' contains within itself a deep and important meaning, since it is +but a recognition of the fact that relative right and wrong may change +with the condition of society, and that theories may be beneficial in a +more advanced stage, which at present would be noxious in the extreme, +and that, in consequence, he is an unsafe leader who grasps at some +exalted good without making sure of the preliminary steps which alone +can make such blessings durable—who would, at a single leap, place the +nation far ahead in the race of improvement, without first subjecting it +to that trial and discipline which are absolutely necessary to fit it +for a new sphere. And the extreme disfavor with which such agitators are +regarded by society is an evidence of the safeguard which our +institutions contain within themselves, which, by moulding the minds of +the people to a proper appreciation of the blessings of limited reform +and of the inevitable and necessary stages and degrees of progress, as +well as of the danger of too sudden and radical change, effectually +counteract the evil influence of the unmethodical and empirical +reformer.</p> + +<p>Our Government, in its form, can in no sense of the word be called a +democracy, however much its workings may tend toward such a result in +some far-distant future. It is founded in a recognition of the fact that +however equal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> all men may be in their civil and political +rights—however the humblest and most ignorant member of the community +may be entitled to 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' all +men are not equal either in intellectual endowments or personal +acquirements, and consequently in their influence upon society, or +equally fitted either to govern or to choose their rulers. Our ancestors +recognized the fact that the people are not, in the democratic sense of +the term, fitted to govern themselves. Hence they threw around their +system a network of safeguards, and adopted and firmly established +restraints to counteract this principle of democratic rule, without +which our infant republic would soon have fallen to pieces by the force +of its own internal convulsions. And time has proven the wisdom of their +course, and we shall do well if we shall reflect long and deeply before +we essay to remove the least of those restraints, remembering that when +once the floodgate is opened to change, the eternal tide is set in +motion, and a precedent established which will prove dangerous if it be +not carefully restrained within the limits of the necessities of the +times.</p> + +<p>To draw an illustration from the constitution of our body politic: we +find that the people meet in their primary elections, and choose a +representative to their State legislature, which representative is, +<i>theoretically</i>, considerably advanced above his constituents in +intellect, and in knowledge and experience of governmental affairs, and +of the necessities of the nation; by whom, in conjunction with his +colleagues—and not by the people themselves—a Senator is chosen to +represent the State in the national Congress,—which Senator, in his +turn, <i>theoretically</i>, is elevated above his constituents, not by the +fortuitous circumstance of birth or of worldly possessions, but in point +of intellect and acquirements, and consequent capacity to govern. Again, +the people do not directly choose their President, but select certain +electors, to whose superior wisdom and judgment is intrusted the task of +determining who is most fitted to rule the nation for the coming +presidential term. In the single instance of the representative to +Congress do the people choose directly from among themselves. And this +was adopted as a wise precaution that he, springing directly from their +midst, owing both his present and future position to their suffrages, +more closely identified with them in interest, and partaking more nearly +of their modes of thought, and who from the shortness of his term might +easily be displaced if he should prove recreant to his trust, thus +having every inducement to correctly represent the sentiments and +protect the rights of his constituents, might act as a check upon that +other house, which, further removed in every respect from the people, +elected more in accordance with, the aristocratic institutions of the +mother country, and from this exalted and exclusive position, and long +term of office, more liable to aristocratic influences, might be tempted +to combine for the consolidation of power and the gratification of +personal ambition, even at the expense of the liberties of the people.</p> + +<p>Such is the <i>theory</i> of our form of Government; the practical working of +it has altered with the times. While the form of the Constitution is +still observed to the letter, the spirit is, in a great measure, +abrogated. The people now choose only those representatives whose +sentiments are well known and whose future course can safely be +predicated—only those electors who stand pledged to cast their votes +for a designated candidate. Yet even now there is nothing to prevent +those representatives from pursuing a course entirely opposed +to all previous professions, and the known wishes of their +constituents—nothing to hinder those electors from casting their votes +for some third party, or combining to place in the executive chair some +unknown person whom the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> people have not chosen or desired; nothing, if +only we except the eternal odium and political damnation of public +opinion. Yet it may well be questioned if this same public opinion be +not after all the safest custodian of the public interest, the most +powerful restraint which could be imposed upon these representatives of +the people to compel them to a strict performance of their trust.</p> + +<p>Yet while, as we have said, a pure democracy is but another term for the +highest type of civilization, the fact that our form of Government is +not in any sense of the word a democracy, is no argument against our +civilization, but rather in its favor. For it is but a recognition of +the fact that no people on earth is yet fitted for a pure democracy as a +basis of their institutions: it is an adapting of ourselves to that +state of things for which we are most fitted, instead of grasping at +some Utopian scheme of perfection, which the common sense of the nation +tells us is beyond our present capacity. On the other hand, it is a +frank acknowledgment of our own defects and frailties. As the 'γνὡσι σεαυτὁν' of the heathen philosophers contained within itself the +germ of all individual philosophy and moral progress, so does it +comprehend the whole problem of national growth and progress. It is only +the rudest, most ignorant and barbarous nation that arrogates to itself +perfection: it is that nation only which, conscious of no defects, sees +no necessity for reform, and has no incentive thereto. The consciousness +of defects, both physical and moral, is the life of all reform, and +hence of all progress; while the capacity to detect error in our system +implies the ability for thorough reform, and the cultivation which +underlies such knowledge implies the inclination to effect it. The +establishment of a pure democracy in our midst, in the present state of +human advancement, were evidence of a lack of that civilization which +depends upon earnest thought and a proper appreciation of the present +capabilities as well as the frailties and imperfections of our humanity.</p> + +<p>We have seen that while, in the matter of choosing our rulers and +legislators, our institutions are, in their practical workings, +democratic, in form they are by no means so. This cannot long remain so. +An empty form is of little value, and ere many years the country will +either return to the principles of the olden time—which in the present +advanced state of public sentiment is not likely—or else sweep away the +form and simplify the whole system. Already the question has begun to be +agitated of submitting the presidential vote directly to the people +without intervention of electors. But it may well be doubted whether, in +the light of the political corruption of to-day, even this be not too +great an advance upon the democratic principle for the moral condition +of our people. For many years our country has been the victim of a +demagoguism, resulting from the working of this very principle, and the +question admits of serious discussion whether, instead of abrogating the +form, a return to the <i>spirit</i> of the Constitution, while, at the same +time, holding strictly amenable those to whom this important choice is +intrusted, would not result in a pure and more statesmanlike +administration of public affairs. For the elector, being held +politically responsible for the conduct of the candidate for whom his +vote was cast, and for all the evils resulting from mal-administration, +would soon learn that to be faithful is not less important than to be +wise, and that his political interest was identified with the well-being +of the country. But it is one of the evils of our rapid progress that +the past is looked upon with such disfavor as to effectually prevent a +return even upon the path of error. In the pride of our civilization the +simpler theories of the olden time are despised as unworthy of, if not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +wholly unfitted for, our present exalted intellectuality. The principle +is ignored that reform may sometimes be effected by retracing the steps +of years. Hence reform in this particular must either adopt the +dangerous experiment of establishing the pure democratic principle, or +else devise some third plan which shall charm by its novelty at the same +time that it is founded upon some evident and abiding truth.</p> + +<p>And in this connection another great evil becomes evident which is in +itself a fault of our civilization, and not a defect arising from any +fundamental error in our system; an evil which, although always +predominant, has been more active in its workings, more injurious in its +effects during the present war than ever before. It is the spirit of +bitter, uncharitable, and even malicious opposition of the minority to +the acts and theories of the party in power, forgetting that no great +evil was ever yet effectually counteracted by opposition, which only +fans the flame and makes the fire burn hotter. And while no good can be +effected by such opposition, its direful effect is to divide the +councils of the nation, to paralyze the executive arm in all times of +great emergency, to render but half effectual every great national +enterprise, to make wavering the national policy, to exasperate +political parties more and more against each other, thereby dividing the +people and weakening the national life and progress, preventing all +concentration of effort and unanimity of purpose, and—worst of +all—subjecting the country periodically to the violent shock of +opposing systems, according as parties alternate in power, tossing the +ship of state in the brief period of a four years' term from one wave of +theory to another, and opposing one, only to be hurled back as violently +as before. Can it be doubted that such a state of affairs is injurious +to prosperity and either political or social advancement? Were the +results of every Administration for <i>good</i>, there would be less danger; +but radical evils cannot but result from the bitter partisanship of the +party in power, and when the scale is reversed and the opposite party +gains the ascendency, the new Administration has scarcely time to +correct the errors of its predecessors and to establish its own theory, +ere the popular tide ebbs and flows again in the opposite direction, the +ins are out and the outs are in, and again the alternation begins. +Certainly party divisions are the life of a republic, from their +tendency to counterbalance each other, and periodically reform abuses, +thus keeping the vessel in the straight course; yet when those divisions +reach the point which we see in our midst to-day, when the avowal of any +principle or theory by the one party, however just or beneficial it may +seem, is but the signal for the uncompromising hostility and bitter +denunciation of the opposition, who seek to make of it a handle to move +the giant lever of political power, unmindful of the wants and the +urgent necessities of the land—a hostility having for its basis the +single fact that the new measures are unfortunately advocated by the +opposite party—then such divisions become not only injurious to the +body politic, but a foul blot upon the civilization of our day and +nation. This is perhaps putting the question in a strong light; but, +admitting that we have not yet reached that point, are we not swiftly +drifting in that direction? Let every candid thinker put the question to +himself and ponder it deeply, remembering, while looking for the +ultimate result, that it was the bitter hostility of opposing factions +which ruined the republics of old, and which to-day convulse many that +might otherwise take rank among the most powerful and progressive +nations of the earth, neutralizing their progress, and holding them +constantly suspended above the gulf of anarchy and desolation.</p> + +<p>Ask the oppositionist of to-day what he proposes or expects to +accomplish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> by his hostility to the powers that be, and he will answer +to little purpose. A vague idea is floating in his brain of some 'good +time coming' for his party, yet he knows very little what or when this +good time shall be, living on in the hope of some unknown event which +shall reverse the political chessboard. The opposition of to-day is that +of ultra conservatism to radicalism, of which the tendency of the one is +toward the stationary, that of the other to the rapidly progressive. The +so-called conservative, apparently blind to the result, and looking to a +return of the nation to the worn-out theories of the past as the result +of the efforts of his clique, is straining every nerve to paralyze the +arm of the Government, and to neutralize the effect of every great +achievement, doing everything in his power to exasperate the large +majority who are endeavoring to sustain the country in her hour of +peril, seemingly unconscious that in so doing he is not only working +steadily to defeat his own purpose, but also paving the way for the +destruction of his faction. For he is endeavoring to drag the country +backward along the track of years—an object which, as all history +proves, can never be effected with any progressive race; on the +contrary, such nations have ever owed their ruin to the inevitable +tendency to too rapid advancement. Again, by embittering the feelings of +his opponents toward himself and his coadjutors, he is effectually +preventing any future reconciliation and coöperation of the divided +factions, in which only could he hope for success, and raising up a +powerful opposition which will counteract all his future efforts.</p> + +<p>A purer civilization would look at this question of party divisions in a +different light, recognizing it as an institution of Providence, whereby +great good may be effected when its benefits are properly appreciated, +and at the same time as a terrible engine of destruction when misused or +not properly controlled. A purer civilization would recognize and +candidly acknowledge every element of good in the theories of even the +fiercest opponents, and heartily coöperate in every enterprise whose +tendency was to the national good, working steadily and cheerfully side +by side with rivals and political opposers, and confining its own +opposition strictly to those measures of which the effect is, judged by +its own standard, obviously evil. The <i>rôle</i> of the true reformer is to +glide quietly along with the tide of events, becoming reconciled to +those measures which, though contrary to his own convictions, are +nevertheless too firmly established to admit of being shaken by his most +powerful efforts; and so while carefully avoiding all unnecessary +antagonisms, all useless stirring up of old bitternesses, to seek so to +identify himself with the current of events, and so to become part and +parcel of the nation's political life and progress, as to be enabled to +guide into the channel of future good the movement which at first +started awry. Even where the vessel has widely diverged from the path of +good, and follows that which leads to inevitable destruction, it is his +part, instead of wasting his powers in useless struggles to stay her +course, to continue on as part and parcel of the precious freight, +seeking opportunity so to guide the erring prow that she shall be +gradually diverted from the evil course toward some distant and advanced +point of the forsaken track, without being violently dragged back along +her wake. So reaching at last the accustomed course, the good ship will +still be far advanced upon her way with all the benefits of past +experience of evil to act as a warning against future digressions from +the established path of progress. It will be time enough then to point +out the dangers she has escaped, and to argue the absurdity of the olden +theories which have so seriously interfered with her navigation. By such +a course alone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> will he secure the respect of his opponents, and the +love and admiration of those who never fail to appreciate sterling +integrity of purpose, uprightness of motives, and persevering effort in +the cause of the public good, which is that of the right and the true; +and so only will he quiet and disarm that factious spirit which would +otherwise be ever ready to start into a violent opposition at his first +effort in the public cause. Nor must such a course imply time-serving or +sycophancy, or the least concealment of any of the loftiest and noblest +sentiments. In any matter of wrong, where the voice and the concentrated +effort of the true philanthropist can avail to check the nation's +career, the voice of the reformer should not fail to be raised in its +most powerful tones, and all his energy exerted to form such political +and social combinations as shall effect his purpose. But in those stages +which are prominent in every nation's progress, when the tide of public +opinion sets full and irresistibly in one direction, sweeping along all +thought and energy in its course, against which it were madness to +contend until the tempest shall have worn itself out by its own +violence—more especially when the great questions involve a mere +difference of opinion as to the results of important measures or the +general tendency of the public policy—then, when opposition would only +serve to arouse a factious or disputatious spirit, his part is to glide +quietly along with the popular movement, acquiescing in and reconciling +himself to the condition of affairs till such time as the public +sentiment is ripe, and the circumstances fitting for the advocacy and +the triumph of his own views; meanwhile letting no opportunity escape to +guide the national mind and direct the nation's strivings to such a +consummation.</p> + +<p>By such a course only can he effect great results and make durable the +establishment of his own cherished principles.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHURCH_MUSIC" id="CHURCH_MUSIC"></a>CHURCH MUSIC.</h2> + + +<p>From the earliest Christian period of which we have any knowledge, music +has been employed in the public worship of Christian communities. Its +purposes are, to afford to the devotion of the worshippers a means of +expression more subtile than even human speech, to increase that +devotion, and to add additional lustre and solemnity to the outward +service offered to God. Music has a wonderful power in stirring the +souls of men, in (so to speak) moving the soil of the heart, that the +good seed sown by prayer and instruction may find ready entrance, and a +wholesome stimulus to facilitate growth. Now, it is the duty of all +concerned in the ordering of public worship to see that the music +employed tends to effect these ends.</p> + +<p>In the year 1565, the composers of church music were in the habit of +employing so many and well-known secular melodies, and of rearing upon +them and upon their own inventions such complicated and unintelligible +contrapuntal structures, that the church authorities took the matter +seriously in hand, and there is no knowing what might have been the +final sentence, had not Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina brought his +genius to the rescue, and, in sundry compositions, especially in a +six-part mass, dedicated to Pope Mar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>cellus II., shown that science need +not exclude clearness, and the possibility of hearing the words sung, +and that the truly inventive artist has no need to seek his themes in +inappropriate spheres.</p> + +<p>In this day we run little risk of ship-wreck through too great an amount +of science. Scarlatti and Bach would laugh at the efforts styled 'canon' +and 'fugue,' by the aspiring tyros of the present age. Our difficulties +arise, not from musical complexity, but from want of suitableness, +adaptation, and characterization, together with the ever-increasing feud +between choir and congregational singing. In some churches on the +Continent of Europe, these two latter modes are happily blended, certain +services or portions of services being left to the choir, and the +remainder being entrusted to the entire congregation. Of course this +arrangement is only practicable where there is a certain variety in the +musical portion of the service. Where the singing of hymns (in the +ordinary sense of the phrase) is the only musical form used in the +worship, such differences would be difficult to establish, and a variety +of circumstances must determine which of the two modes, or what +combination of them, be selected by the congregation. Even where +splendor is studiously avoided, all desire order and decency in the +conduct of public worship, and such order is painfully violated where +discordant sounds or unsuitable selections of music are permitted to +distract attention and disturb devotion. A ragged carpet, faded fringes, +or dingy window panes, would speedily find a reformer; and surely the +sensitive, defenceless ear has as good a claim to exact order as the +more voluntary sense of seeing. Better, indeed, no music, than such as +binds the wings of the soul to earth instead of aiding them to fly +heavenward.</p> + +<p>The above remarks apply as well to choir as to congregational singing. +Let us suppose now that the mere primal foundation—the mechanical +execution—be respectably good; that the congregation or choir have been +taught to sing in tune; that all be harmonious and properly balanced; in +short, that the auditory nerves be spared any very severe shock—and +what then will we ordinarily find? A few good old church melodies, +almost lost amid a dreary maze of the most recent droning platitudes, or +a multitude of worldly acquaintances, negro minstrelsy, ancient love +ditties, bar room roundelays, passionate scenes from favorite operas, +with snatches from instrumental symphonies, concertos, or what not! +Music, as I have said, is even more subtile in its power of expression +than speech, and the <i>new words</i>, which we may perhaps not even hear, +can never banish from our minds the <i>old impressions</i> associated with +the melody. The ears may even be cognizant of the holy sentiments +intended to be conveyed, but the mind's eye will see Sambo, 'First upon +the heel top, then upon the toe;' the love-lorn dame weeping her false +lover, 'Ah, no, she never blamed him, never;' a roystering set of good +fellows clinking glasses, 'We won't go home till morning;' Lucia +imploring mercy from her hard-hearted brother and selfish suitor; Norma +confiding her little ones to the keeping of her rival; or perhaps the +full orchestra at the last 'philharmonic,' supplying the missing notes, +the beginning and the end of some noble idea, now vainly struggling with +the difficulties and incongruities of its new position, its maimed +members mourning their incompleteness, its tortured spirit longing for +the body given by the original creator.</p> + +<p>Are we Christians then so poor that we must go begging and stealing +shreds and patches from our more fortunate secular brethren? Has music +deserted us to dwell solely in the camps of the gypsying world? If so, +there must be some fault among ourselves, for music is a pure gift from +God, the only <i>earthly</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> pleasure <i>promised</i> us in heaven. Such +imputation would indeed be a libel upon the almost infinite variety in +the character of music, and its power of consecration to the very +loftiest ends. Ah! there we fear is the rub. <i>The character of music!</i> +<i>That</i> seems to have been forgotten. If all these melodies be adapted to +their original aims, can they be suited to new ones so different? Is +there really in musical form, rhythm, melody, and harmony, no capacity +for any real expression? Will the same tune do as well for a dance as +for a prayer, for a moonlight serenade as for an imploration of Divine +mercy?</p> + +<p>Now we have no quarrel with dances; they are innocent and useful in +their proper place; human love is a noble gift from the Almighty; we are +not shocked by a good drinking song, provided the singers be sober; +operas <i>might</i> be made highly instrumental in elevating the tone of +modern society; and we listen reverentially to the grand creations of +the masters; but, in addition to all these, we require a music adapted +to signify the relations between ourselves and our Heavenly Father, a +music which shall express adoration and love, praise and thanksgiving, +contrition and humble confidence, which shall implore mercy and waft +prayer to the very gates of the abode of omnipotence. Let such music be +simple or complex, according to the thought to be rendered or the +capacity of the executants, let it be for voices, for instruments, or +for a blending of the two, but let it always be appropriate to the +subject, and rise with the thought or emotions to be conveyed. Who can +tell what would be the effect of such a church music? What a feeling of +earnestness and sincerity would it not lend to services now often marred +by the shallowness or meretricious glitter of their musical portions? +The range is wide, the field broad; there is scope for grandeur, +sublimity, power, jubilation, the brightest strains of extatic joy, +mourning, pathos, and the passionate pleading of the human soul severed +from its highest good; but all should be in accordance with the dignity +of the personalities represented: on the one hand, the Father and +Creator of all, and on the other, the weak, erring, dependent creature, +made, nevertheless, in the image of his Creator, and for whom a God +thought it no unworthiness to live, to suffer, and to die.</p> + +<p>Have we any such music? Yes—a little; but that little is not always the +best known nor the most frequently employed. Are there any composers now +capable of writing such? Are the composers of genius, or even of talent, +sufficiently earnest and devout? for here we want no shams. Each one +must answer these questions in accordance with his own experience. The +practical question is, What can be done toward an amelioration of the +present state of affairs, not confined to this continent, but unhappily +only too prevalent everywhere? Let the head of the musical department of +every church service begin by weeding from his repertory all <i>trash</i>, +whether profane or simply stupid and nonsensical. As the number of +musical creations remaining will not be very large, let him retain for +the present all that are not positively bad or inane; a few old song +melodies have, through long usage, lost their original associations, and +hence, though perhaps only imperfectly adapted to devotional purposes, +are yet, on the whole, unobjectionable, and perhaps better than many +modern inventions.</p> + +<p>An idea seems prevalent that, to write words for music is an easy task, +and hence the many wounds inflicted upon both music and poetry in their +frequent union. When a melody is to be composed for a set of verses, the +same melody to be sung to every verse, the composer naturally examines +the general tone and form of the poem. These of course determine his +selection of rhythmical character, of time, key, movement, etc. The +melody is con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>structed upon the basis of the first verse. To the words +embodying the most important thoughts or feelings, he gives the most +important, the emphatic notes, striving to make the sound a faithful and +intensifying medium whereby to convey the sense. <i>His</i> work is then +done, as the same melody is to be repeated to every verse, and the end +sought will have been attained if the poet have carefully fulfilled +<i>his</i> part. But if he have introduced inequalities into his rhythm, or +have given unimportant words the places occupied by important ones in +the first verse, so that an emphatic note will fall upon an 'in,' or a +'the,' or some similar particle, the effect will be bad, and the result +unsatisfactory to all concerned. Old association, or intrinsic beauty of +poetry or melody may, in rare cases, render such blemishes tolerable, +but the creator of a new work should strive to avoid all blemishes, and +at least <i>aim</i> at perfection.</p> + +<p>If to each good religious poem we possess, or may hereafter possess (be +that poem psalm, hymn, sequence, litany, prayer, or form of doctrine), +we could attach, or find attached, the musical form best adapted to its +highest expression, what delight would we not experience in its +rendering? Some such poems might, by reason of old associations, or of +especial adaptation, be always sung to the same melodies, while to +others might be accorded greater facilities for variety. This only by +way of suggestion. The common practice of selecting melodies for verses, +hap-hazard, with regard only to the 'metre,' of course destroys all +possibility of any especial characterization. If the original 'marriage' +have been a congenial one, a divorce, with view to a second union, +rarely proves advisable. The same verses may bear another musical +rendering, but the music will very rarely endure adaptation to other +verses.</p> + +<p>But we left our <i>maestro di capella</i>, our head of the music in any +religious assemblage, weeding his repertory. A difficult task! for, to +sound principles of discrimination he must add the best counsel and the +widest information he can procure from every competent quarter, not +narrow nor one-sided, but commensurate with the breadth, the world-wide +diffusion of the subject.</p> + +<p>We cannot hope for very speedy progress in this matter, so large a share +of its advancement depending upon general, real and proper musical +cultivation; but if each one interested will think the matter over +seriously and intelligently, and do the little that may lie in his +power, a beginning will have been made, which may in the end lead to +grand, beautiful, and most precious results.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="APHORISM_NO_IX" id="APHORISM_NO_IX"></a>APHORISM.—NO. IX.</h2> + + +<p>Our Saviour says of life: 'I have power to lay it down, and power to +take it again.' We have not such power in our own hands; but our Lord +holds it for us, so that our position is independent of the world, and +of the power of evil, just as His was; and as in His case He did resume +more than He laid down, so will be given to us by the same Almighty hand +more than any creature has to surrender for the highest objects of +existence.</p> + +<p>Such doctrine, I may add, is not, in its essence, merely Christian: it +has been the common sentiment of our race, that one of the highest +privileges of our being is to sacrifice ourselves, in various modes and +degrees, for the good of our fellow men; and those who cheerfully do +this, even if it be in the actual surrender of life, are esteemed +blessed, as they are also placed above others in the ranks of honorable +fame, and held to be secure of the final rewards of a heavenly state.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_NOTICES" id="LITERARY_NOTICES"></a>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Life of William Hickling Prescott.</span> By <span class="smcap">George +Ticknor</span>. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864.</p></div> + +<p>There are no discordant voices on either side of the Atlantic with +regard to the literary merits of William H. Prescott. Truth, dignity, +research, candor, erudition, chaste and simple elegance, mark all he has +ever written. His noble powers were in perfect consonance with his noble +soul. His strict sense of justice shines in all its brilliancy, in his +evident desire to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, of every +character appearing in his conscientious pages. No current of popular +prejudice, however strong, swerves him from his righteous path; no +opportunity for glitter or oratorical display ever misleads him; no +special pleading bewilders his readers; no 'might is right' corrupts +them. His genius is pure, dramatic, and wide; his comprehension of +character acute and clear; his characterization of it, chiselled and +chaste; his ready comprehension of magnanimous deeds evinces his own +magnanimity; his correct understanding of various creeds and motives of +action proves his own wide Christianity; chivalry was known to him, +because he was himself chivalrous; and we have reason to rejoice that +the field in and through which his noble faculties were developed, was +the vast and varied one of history. We doubt if any one ever read his +works without forming a high conception of the character of their +author, a conception which will be found fully realized in the excellent +Life given us by George Ticknor. If no one is qualified to write the +Life of a man, save one who has familiarly lived with him, who but Mr. +Ticknor could have given us such a biography of Prescott? This +advantage, together with the similarity of literary tastes, the common +nationality in which their spheres of labor lay, their long friendship, +their congeniality of spirit, with the mental qualifications brought by +Mr. Ticknor to his task of love, renders his production one of +inestimable value. It is indeed full of sweet, grave charm, and +thoroughly reliable. In these pages we see how it was that no man ever +found fault with or spoke disparagingly of Prescott—we find the reason +for it in the perfect balance of his conscientious and kindly character. +He was in the strictest sense of the words 'lord of himself,' mulcting +himself with fines and punishments for what he regarded as his +derelictions in his labors, compelling himself to pursue the tasks which +he had determined to achieve. There is no more interesting record than +that of his constant struggles to conquer the effects of his growing +blindness, none more inspiriting than the results of his efforts. He +loved and lived among his books; his last request was that his body +should be placed among them ere it was given to the grave.</p> + +<p>This delightful biography, which has been received so warmly, both at +home and abroad, was originally published in an elegant quarto volume, +illustrated in the highest style of art, and an edition was printed +which was considered quite too large for the present times. But the +edition was soon exhausted, and Messrs. Ticknor & Fields have now given +us the Life in a 12mo volume, thus placing it within the means of all +readers. We rejoice at this, because Prescott belongs to us all: while +his life is dear to the scholar and lover of his kind, it furnishes some +of the most important lessons to Young America. Such a man is a true +national glory. We close our imperfect notice with a short extract from +Mr. Ticknor's preface: 'But if, after all, this memoir should fail to +set the author of the 'Ferdinand and Isabella' before those who had not +the happiness to know him personally, as a man whose life for more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +forty years was one of almost constant struggle—of an almost constant +sacrifice to duty, of the present to the future—it will have failed to +teach its true lesson, or to present my friend to others as he stood +before the very few who knew him as he was.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Virtue could see to do what virtue would<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By her own radiant light, though sun and moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were in the flat sea sunk."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Sermons</span>, Preached at Trinity Chapel, Brighton, by the late +Rev. <span class="smcap">Frederick W. Robertson</span>, M. A., the Incumbent. Fifth +Series. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. For sale by D. Appleton & +Co., New York.</p></div> + +<p>The sermons of Mr. Robertson are very popular in England. They are +remarkable for clearness and excellence of style, and earnestness of +purpose. Many noble lessons are to be drawn from them, even by those who +differ with the author on sundry points of doctrine. We wish, however, +for the credit of theological exactness, that he had been somewhat more +careful in stating the views of his adversaries. Referring to the use of +indulgences, he says: 'The Romish Church permits crime for certain +considerations.' The Roman Catholic doctrine as actually held is, that +an indulgence is a remission of a portion of the earthly or purgatorial +punishment due to any sin, after it has been duly repented of, +confessed, abandoned, and restitution made so far as possible. It can +consequently never mean a pardon for sins to come, as is often +ignorantly supposed, and is apparently a reminiscence of the ancient +practice of canonical penances inflicted on penitents.</p> + +<p>Just now, when the entire scientific world is being convulsed by the +attempted substitution of some inflexible law for a personal God with a +living <i>will</i>, it is not strange that some phase of the same idea should +creep into even the purest theology, and that in Mr. Robertson's theory +of prayer we should find traces of the rigidity characterizing 'ultra +predestinarian' as well as 'development' schemes of creation.</p> + +<p>We cannot better conclude than by quoting the following passage from the +sermon on 'Selfishness,' a home thrust to nearly all of us: 'It is +possible to have sublime feelings, great passions, even great sympathies +with the race, and yet not to love man. To feel mightily is one thing, +to live truly and charitably another. Sin may be felt at the core, and +yet not be cast out. Brethren, beware. See how a man may be going on +uttering fine words, orthodox truths, and yet be rotten at the heart.'</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Woman and her Era.</span> By <span class="smcap">Eliza W. Farnham</span>. 'Every +book of knowledge known to Oosana or Vreehaspatec, is by nature +implanted in the understandings of women.'—<i>Vishnu Sarma.</i> In 2 +volumes. New York: A. J. Davis & Co., 274 Canal street.</p></div> + +<p>This is a book which will excite violent criticism, and call forth +opposition, as all new statements invariably do. Its author says it is +twenty-two years since its truths took possession of her mind, and that +they are as firmly grounded among the eternal truths for her, as are the +ribbed strata of the rocks, or the hollows of the everlasting sea. Mrs. +Farnham attempts to prove the superiority of woman in all, save the +external world of the senses, the material structure of the work-a-day +world. She regards the knowledge and acceptance of this fact as of vital +importance to the order of society, the happiness of man, the +development of his being, and the improvement of the human race. Her +argument is not the sentimental one so often profaned in our midst. She +traces the proofs of her assertions to the most profound sources, +presents them in her acute analyses and philosophical arguments, and +draws practical applications from them. She is sincere in her +convictions, and able in her arguments; she sets up a high standard of +womanly excellence for <i>noblesse oblige</i>, and teaches faith in God and +humanity.</p> + +<p>We have not space to follow Mrs. Farnham's argument: it would require a +review rather than a cursory notice. She shows that there is an +intuitive recognition of the superiority of woman in the universal +sentiments of humanity, that man's love when pure assumes the superior +qualities of the woman loved, that he looks to her to aid him in his +aspirations for a better life than he has lived before; but woman never +proposes to herself a reform from any gross or vicious habit by reason +of her first lesson in love. The reverse is more apt to be the case.</p> + +<p>In man the love of power is an infernal passion, because its root is +self love; in woman, it is a divine impulse, connected only with the +love of noble uses. Our author is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> no advocate for women's rights, there +being two orders of human capacities, masculine and feminine. Man is +master of the outer world: woman cannot cope with him there; her sphere +is freer, deeper, higher, and of more importance to the future destinies +of the race. This book will be sharply criticized by the clergy, pure +and good men, but always hard on woman, although she keeps the lamp of +faith trimmed and burning in the churches, believing her always a mere +subordinate of man, and utter submission to him her chief virtue. The +lady-killers and men of pleasure will scorn it, for it exposes many of +their claims and vices, which they labor to hide with glittering veils +of dazzling sophisms. Will our women read it? We think not. Mrs. Farnham +treats of difficult subjects, with the freedom and innocence of an +anatomist; but will our fair and shrinking students enter the dissecting +room, even to learn some of the secrets of life?</p> + +<p>We differ from Mrs. Farnham in many important particulars. We think she +has made some errors fatal to the well-being of her system. But she has +entered upon a new path, one in which there are indeed <i>lions upon the +way</i>; she has advanced freely and boldly through its dangers; her aims +have been generous and sincere; she has given the mature a suggestive +and thoughtful book; and shall we not greet her when she returns with +her hard-won trophies from the mystical land of earth's fair Psyches?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To temper man; we had been brutes without you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angels are painted fair to look like you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's in you all that we believe of heaven!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Holy and Profane States.</span> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Fuller</span>. +With some Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, +Brown & Co. For sale by D. Appleton & Co.</p></div> + +<p>A book from quaint old Fuller will always find its audience ready to +receive it. It is only by contrasting his works with those of his +contemporaries that we can do him full justice. He was an eminent +historian and divine of the Church of England, in the stormy times of +Charles I. and the Commonwealth. He made his first appearance as an +author in 1631, in a poem entitled 'David's hainous Sin, heartie +Repentance, and heavie Punishment.' He was much beloved in his day, +following faithfully as chaplain the fortunes of the royal army. As a +writer, every subject is alike to him; if dull, he enlivens it; +agreeable, he improves it; deep, he enlightens it; and if tough, +grapples bravely with it. As he was unwilling to go all lengths with +either party, he was abused by both. The storms which convulsed the +Government, had only the effect of throwing him upon his own resources, +and he thus produced the various works which won the admiration of his +contemporaries, and through which he still receives the gratitude of +posterity, keeping his memory still green in our souls. The table of +contents in the present volume is very varied, the chapters are short, +and treat of familiar and home-like topics.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Familiar Quotations</span>: Being an Attempt to Trace to their +Sources Passages and Phrases in Common Use, chiefly from English +Authors. By <span class="smcap">John Bartlett</span>. Fourth edition. Boston: Little, +Brown & Co. 1864.</p></div> + +<p>The compiler of this book says the favor shown to former editions has +encouraged him to go on with the work and make it still more worthy. The +object has been to present the general reader with such quotations as he +would readily recognize as old friends. The index of authors is a wide +one, placing before us at a glance many of the names treasured in our +memories; the index of subjects, alphabetically arranged, covers seventy +closely printed pages, and is exceedingly well ordered. We consider such +books as of great value, planting pregnant thoughts in the soul, and +affording rich illustrations. We cheerfully commend Mr. Bartlett's +excerpts. They are well chosen, and the binding, paper, and print of the +book are admirable.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Arnold and André.</span> An Historical Drama. By <span class="smcap">George +Calvert</span>, author of 'Scenes and Thoughts in Europe,' and 'The +Gentleman.' Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864.</p></div> + +<p>Mr. Calvert says, 'an historical drama being the incarnation—through +the most compact and brilliant literary form—of the spirit of a +national epoch, the dramatic author, in adopting historic personages and +events, is bound to subordinate himself with conscientious faithfulness +to the actuality he attempts to reproduce. His task is, by help of +imagi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>native power, to give to important conjunctures, and to the +individuals that rule them, a more vivid embodiment than can be given on +the literal page of history—not to transform, but to elevate and +animate an enacted reality, and, by injecting it with poetic rays, to +make it throw out a light whereby its features shall be more visible.' A +just theory and well stated; and in 'Arnold and André,' our author has +subordinated himself with conscientious faithfulness to historic truth, +and is always correct and dignified; but the imaginative gift of deep +insight is wanting, and the fire of genius kindles not the heart of the +stately record to reveal its hidden power and pathos.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">History of the Romans Under the Empire.</span> By <span class="smcap">Charles +Merivale, B.D.</span>, late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. +From the fourth London edition. With a copious Analytical Index. +Vol. III. New York: D. Appleton & Co., Broadway.</p></div> + +<p>Merivale's third volume commences with the proceedings upon the death of +Cæsar, and concludes with the Imperial Administration, thus containing +one of the most interesting and important periods of Roman history. +Antonius, Octavius, Cicero, Cleopatra, Octavia, Cæsarion, Herod, +Antipater, Mariamne, Agrippa, etc., make part of the brilliant array +rekindled before us. We have no doubt that the readers of ancient +history will gladly avail themselves of the opportunity to possess +themselves of Merivale's work.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Selections from the Works of Jeremy Taylor.</span> With some +Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. +1864.</p></div> + +<p>Bishop Heber says, when speaking of the three great English divines, +'Hooker is the object of our reverence. Barrow of our admiration, and +Jeremy Taylor of our love.' Taylor was a man of devout and glowing soul, +of imaginative genius, so that, whatever may have been the prejudices of +his times, the restrictions of his creed, his thoughts are still fresh +and captivating, his quaint pages full of interest. He loved his Master, +and his love glows through much of his writing.</p> + +<p>He was an accomplished scholar, and in spite of his contests with +'Papists,' a kindhearted man. His biographer says: 'To sum up all in a +few words, this great prelate had the good humor of a gentleman, the +eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a +schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a +chancellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and the +piety of a saint, devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for a +university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi.'</p> + +<p>These selections are judiciously made, and will commend themselves to +all readers of taste. It is a good sign to see Jeremy Taylor and old +Fuller reappearing among us.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Poems.</span> By <span class="smcap">Frederick Goddard Tuckerman</span>. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 1864.</p></div> + +<p>Mr. Tuckerman has given us a volume of philosophically thought, tenderly +and purely felt, and musically rhythmed poems. No roughness disfigures, +no sensualism blights, no straining for effect chills, no meretricious +ornament destroys them. The ideas are grave and tender, the diction +scholarly, and if the fire and passion of genius flame not through them, +they seem to have been the natural growth of a heart</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Hearing oftentimes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The still sad music of humanity.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Thoughts on Personal Religion.</span> Being a Treatise on the +Christian Life, in its two Chief Elements, Devotion and Practice. +By <span class="smcap">Edward Meyrick Goulburn, D. D.</span>, Prebendary of St. +Paul's, Chaplain to the Bishop of Oxford, and one of her Majesty's +Chaplains in Ordinary. First American, from the fifth London +edition. With a Prefatory Note, by George H. Houghton, D.D., Rector +of the Church of the Transfiguration, in the City of New York. New +York: D. Appleton & Co., 443 and 445 Broadway. 1864.</p></div> + +<p>This is, in the main, an excellent work on practical religion. From its +fervent spirit and sound common sense, it came very near being such a +one as we could have recommended for the perusal and attentive study of +the great body of Christians in our country. Unfortunately, the author, +by sundry flings at other Christian communities, and by the use of +nicknames, as Quaker, Romanist, Dissenter, etc., in speaking of them, +has restricted its usefulness chiefly to the members of his own +communion, the Protestant Episcopal Church. To such, it will doubtless +prove highly satisfactory and beneficial. A very few omissions would +have procured for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> it the wide range of acceptance and power of working +good to which its intrinsic excellence would then have entitled it. When +will our religious writers learn that the great battle now is not among +the various sections of the Christian camp, but with an outside enemy, +indefatigable, learned, plausible, and every day gaining ground? Who can +tell but that a careful examination of, and more accurate acquaintance +with the principles and practice of divisions serving under the same +great Captain, might dissipate many a prejudice, and reconcile many a +difficulty? One of the first requisites is, that all learn <i>to know</i> and +<i>to speak</i> the truth about one another.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Spirit of the Fair. 1864.</span> 'None but the brave deserve +the Fair.' Editorial Committee: Augustus R. Macdonough, <i>Chairman</i>; +Mrs. Charles E. Butler, Mrs. Edward Cooper, C. Astor Bristed, +Chester P. Dewey, James W. Gerard, jr., William J. Hoppin, Henry +Sedgwick, Frederick Sheldon, Charles K. Tuckerman. New York: John +F. Trow, Publisher, 50 Greene street.</p></div> + +<p>In recommending to our readers this neatly bound volume of the daily +product of the great 'Metropolitan Fair,' we cannot do better than +extract the little introductory notice of the publisher, who says: 'By +the request of many patrons of the 'Spirit of the Fair,' the publisher +purchased the stereotype plates and copyrights of the paper, for the +purpose of supplying bound copies for permanent preservation. The +talented ladies and gentlemen who conducted the 'Spirit of the Fair,' +during its brief and brilliant career, have, by their well-directed +efforts, made a volume worthy of preservation, both from its high +literary excellence, and from the recollections with which it is +associated. Its pages are illuminated with the writings of the most +distinguished authors. Every article in the paper first saw the light of +print in the 'Spirit of the Fair.' Poets, Historians, Statesmen, +Novelists, and Essayists furnished contributions prepared expressly for +its columns; and their efforts in behalf of the noble charity which the +paper represented, should alone entitle the volume to be cherished as a +most valued memento and heirloom.</p> + +<p>'The publisher, therefore, presents this volume to the public, in the +hope that it will not only gratify the reader of the present, but that +it will assist to preserve the 'Spirit of the Fair' for the reader of +the future.'</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Little Rebel.</span> Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1864. For +sale by Hurd & Houghton, New York.</p></div> + +<p>A very interesting book for the little ones. It presents vivid pictures +of New England life, and is fragrant and dewy with fresh breezes from +the maple bush, the hillside, and the pasture lands. The style is +excellent, and the matter as sprightly and entertaining as it is simply +natural and morally improving.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Poet, and other Poems.</span> By <span class="smcap">Achsa W. Sprague</span>. +Boston: William White & Co., 158 Washington street. For sale by A. +J. Davis, New York.</p></div> + +<p>'Miss Sprague was chiefly known to the world as a trance lecturer under +what claimed to be spirit influence. Although speaking in the interest +of a faith generally unpopular, and involved in no slight degree in +crudities, extravagance, and quackery, she was herself neither fool nor +fanatic. She was a true child of nature, direct and simple in her +manners, and impatient of the artificiality and formal etiquette of +fashionable society.' These poems are characterized by great case of +style, flowing rhythm, earnestness in the cause of philanthropy, and +frequently contain high moral lessons. But it is somewhat strange that +the poems of trance writers and speakers, so often marked by exquisite, +varied, and delicate chimes of ringing rhythm, of brilliant words, of +sparkling poetic dust blown from the pages of great writers, and +drifting through the world, should so seldom give us those great granite +blocks of originality, which must constitute the enduring base for the +new era therein announced. Is there nothing new in the world beyond the +grave which they deem open to their vision? We ask this in no spirit of +censure or cavil, for we have no prejudice against the school of +spiritualistic literature, save where it militates against the faith in +our Redeemer.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX TO VOLUME VI.</h2> + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="90%" cellspacing="0" summary="INDEX TO VOLUME VI."> +<tr><td align='left'>A Castle in the Air. By E. Foxton,</td><td valign='top' align='right'>272</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ænone; a Tale of Slave Life in Rome,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_10'><b>10</b></a>, 149, 254, 408, 519, 610</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Glance at Prussian Politics. By Charles M. Mead,</td><td align='right'>261, 383</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Great Social Problem. By G. U.,</td><td align='right'>441</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Civilization. By Lieut. Egbert Phelps, U. S. A.,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_102'><b>102</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Slavery and Finances. By Hon. Robert J. Walker,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_22'><b>22</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Women. By Mrs. Virginia Sherwood,</td><td align='right'>416</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>An Army: Its Organization and Movements. By Lieut.-Col. C. W. Tolles, A. Q. M.,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'><b>1</b></a>, 223, 330, 601</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Sigh. By Virginia Vaughan,</td><td align='right'>355</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Wren's Song,</td><td align='right'>434</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Aphorisms,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_78'><b>78</b></a>, <a href='#Page_83'><b>83</b></a>, 134, 222, 260, 414, 444, 609, 663</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Asleep,</td><td align='right'>270</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Averill's Raid. By Alfred B. Street,</td><td align='right'>326</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Battle of the Wilderness. By E. A. Warriner,</td><td align='right'>207</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Buckle, Draper: Church and Estate. By Edward B. Freeland,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_55'><b>55</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Buried Alive. A Dirge. By Martha Walker Cook,</td><td align='right'>189</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Causes of the Minnesota Massacre. By January Searle,</td><td align='right'>174</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Church Music. By Lucia D. Pychowska,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_112'><b>112</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Colors and their Meaning. By Mrs. M. E. G. Gage,</td><td align='right'>199</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Coming Up at Shiloh,</td><td align='right'>399</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'Cor Unum, Via Una.' God Bless our Native Land!</td><td align='right'>716</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Creation. By Charles E. Townsend,</td><td align='right'>531</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Death in Life. By Edwin R. Johnson,</td><td align='right'>516</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Docs the Moon Revolve on its Axis? By Charles E. Townsend,</td><td align='right'>380</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Editor's Table,</td><td align='right'>238, 478, 711</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Excuse. By Kate Putnam,</td><td align='right'>415</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Flower Odors,</td><td align='right'>469</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Fly Leaves from the Life of a Soldier,</td><td align='right'>289, 534</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Genius, By Richard Bowen,</td><td align='right'>705</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>James Fenimore Cooper on Secession and State Rights. By Charles K. Tuckerman,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_79'><b>79</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Letter of Hon. R. J. Walker, in favor of the Reëlection of Abraham Lincoln, Sept. 30, 1864, London,</td><td align='right'>686</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Life on a Blockader. By the Author of 'The Last Cruise of the Monitor,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_46'><b>46</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Literary Notices,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_116'><b>116</b></a>, 232, 359, 475, 706</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Locomotion. By David M. Balfour,</td><td align='right'>472</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lois Pearl Berkeley. By Margaret Vane Hastings</td><td align='right'>552</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Longing. From Schlegel,</td><td align='right'>454</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Look-Out Mountain. By Alfred B. Street,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_65'><b>65</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lunar Characteristics. By Charles E. Townsend,</td><td align='right'>381</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Miracles. By Rev. Asa L. Colton,</td><td align='right'>685</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Negro Troops. By Henry Everett Russell,</td><td align='right'>191</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Observations of the Sun. By Charles E. Townsend,</td><td align='right'>328</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>One Night. By Julius Wilcox,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_67'><b>67</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>On Hearing a 'Trio.' By Mary Freeman Goldbeck,</td><td align='right'>650</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Our Domestic Affairs. By George Wurts,</td><td align='right'>241</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Our Great America. By January Searle,</td><td align='right'>>445</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Our Martyrs. By Kate Putnam,</td><td align='right'>147</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Phenomena of Haze, Fogs, and Clouds. By Charles E. Townsend,</td><td align='right'>533</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Proverbs. By E. B. C.,</td><td align='right'>371</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Recognition. By Virginia Vaughan,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_88'><b>88</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Self-Sacrifice. Analect from Richter,</td><td align='right'>632</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Shanghai: Its Streets, Shops, and People. By Henry B. Auchincloss,</td><td align='right'>633</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sketches of American Life and Scenery. By Lucia D. Pychowska,</td><td align='right'>544, 664</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Some Uses of a Civil War. By Hugh Miller Thompson,</td><td align='right'>361</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sound Reflections. By E. B. C.,</td><td align='right'>314</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Streck-Verse. By E. B. C.,</td><td align='right'>298</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tardy Truths. By H. K. Kalussowski,</td><td align='right'>209</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Antiquity of Man. A Philosophic Debate. By William Henderson,</td><td align='right'>356</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Constitutional Amendment. By Henry Everett Russell,</td><td align='right'>135</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Cross. By E. Foxton,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_34'><b>34</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Danish Sailor. By G. T. M.,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_99'><b>99</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Devil's Cañon in California. By Henry B. Auchincloss,</td><td align='right'>280</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The English Press. By Nicholas Rowe, London,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_36'><b>36</b></a>, 135</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Esthetics of the Root of All Evil. By George P. Upton,</td><td align='right'>677</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The First Christian Emperor. By Rev. Dr. Philip Schaff,</td><td align='right'>161</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The First Fanatic. By Fanny L. Glenfield,</td><td align='right'>543</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Ideal Man for Universal Imitation; or,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Sinless Perfection of Jesus. By Rev. Dr. Philip Schaff,</td><td align='right'>651</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Lesson of the Hour. By Edward Sprague Rand,</td><td align='right'>455</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The North Carolina Conscript. By Isabella McFarland,</td><td align='right'>379</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Progress of Liberty in the United States. By Rev. A. D. Mayo,</td><td align='right'>481</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Resurrection Flower. By M. E. Dodge,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_84'><b>84</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Sacrifice. By S. J. Bates,</td><td align='right'>296</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Scientific Universal Language; Its Character and Relation to other Languages.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>By Edward B. Freeland,</td><td align='right'>456, 572</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Seven-Hundredth Birthday of a German Capital. By Prof. Andrew Ten Brook,</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_89'><b>89</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Two Platforms. By Henry Everett Russell,</td><td align='right'>587</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Undivine Comedy. A Polish Drama. By Count Sigismund Krasinski.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Translated by Martha Walker Cook,</td><td align='right'>298, 372, 497, 623</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Vision. By George B. Peck,</td><td align='right'>620</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tidings of Victory. By C. L. P.,</td><td align='right'>676</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Violations of Literary Property. The Federalist--Life and Character of John Jay.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>By Henry T. Tuckerman,</td><td align='right'>336</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Who Knows? By Edwin R. Johnson,</td><td align='right'>358</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Word-Stilts. By William Wirt Sikes,</td><td align='right'>439</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'Ye Know Not What Ye Ask.' By Fanny L. Glenfield,</td><td align='right'>398</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, +July, 1864, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 20481-h.htm or 20481-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/8/20481/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, July, 1864 + Devoted to Literature and National Policy. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 29, 2007 [EBook #20481] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + + + + + + +THE + +CONTINENTAL MONTHLY: + + +DEVOTED TO + +Literature and National Policy. + +VOL. VI.--JULY, 1864.--NO. I. + + +New York: + +JOHN F. TROW, 50 GREENE STREET, + +(FOR THE PROPRIETORS.) + +1864. + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by + +JOHN F. TROW, + +In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the +Southern District of New York. + + JOHN F. TROW, + PRINTER, STEREOTYPER, AND ELECTROTYPER. + 50 Greene street, New York. + + * * * * * + + ++----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +|Transcriber's note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected. All | +|other inconstencies in spelling or punctuation are as in the original.| ++----------------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + +AN ARMY: ITS ORGANIZATION AND MOVEMENTS. + +_SECOND PAPER._ + + +Having, in the preceding paper, described the general organization[1] of +an army, we proceed to give a succinct account of some of the principal +staff departments, in their relations to the troops. + +Army organization--notwithstanding the world has always been engaged in +military enterprises--is of comparatively recent institution. Many of +the principles of existing military systems date no farther back than to +Frederic the Great, of Prussia, and many were originated by Napoleon. +Staff departments, particularly, as now constituted, are of late origin. +The staff organization is undergoing constant changes. Its most improved +form is to be found in France and Prussia. Our own staff system is of a +composite, and, in some respects, heterogeneous character--not having +been, constructed on any regular plan, but built up by gradual +accretions and imitations of European features, from the time of our +Revolution till the present. It has, however, worked with great vigor +and efficiency. + +The staff of any commander is usually spoken of in two classes--the +departmental and the personal--the latter including the aides-de-camp, +who pertain more particularly to the person of the commander, while the +former belong to the organization. Of the departmental staff, the +assistant adjutant-generals and assistant inspector-generals are +denominated the 'general staff,' because their functions extend through +all branches of the organization, while the other officers are confined +exclusively to their own departments. + +The _chief of staff_ is a recent French imitation. The first officer +assigned in that capacity was General Marcy, on the staff of General +McClellan, in the fall of 1861. Previous to that time the officers of +the adjutant-general's department--on account of their intimate +relations with commanding officers, as their official organs and the +mediums through which all orders were transmitted--had occupied it. The +duties of these officers, however, being chiefly of a bureau character, +allowing them little opportunity for active external supervision, it has +been deemed necessary to select for heads of the staffs, officers +particularly qualified to assist the commander in devising strategical +plans, organizing, and moving troops, etc.; competent to oversee and +direct the proceedings of the various staff departments; untrammelled +with any exclusive routine of duty, and able in any emergency, when the +commander may be absent, to give necessary orders. For these reasons, +although the innovation has not been sanctioned by any law, or any +standing rule of the War Department, and although its propriety is +discussed by many, the custom of assigning officers as chiefs of staff +has become universal, and will probably be permanent. The extent and +character of their duties depend, however, upon themselves, being +regulated by no orders, and the high responsibilities attached to the +position in France have not thus far been assumed by the officers +occupying it here. In the French service, the chief of staff is the +actual as well as the nominal head of the organization; he supervises +all its operations; he is the _alter ego_ of the commander. In the +Waterloo campaign, for instance, Marshal Soult was the chief of +Napoleon's staff, and the emperor attributed his disaster, in part, to +some of the orders issued by the marshal. + +Our limits will not permit a description of the duties pertaining to the +various members of the staff, but we pass to the consideration of those +departments, the operations of which most directly affect the soldier, +are indispensable to every army, and are most interesting to the public. + +Let us first consider the _quartermaster's department_, which, from the +character and diversity of its duties, the amount of its expenditures, +and its influence upon military operations, may be ranked as among the +most important. This department provides clothing, camp and garrison +equipage, animals and transportation of all kinds, fuel, forage, straw, +and stationery, an immense variety of the miscellaneous materials +required by an army, and for a vast amount of miscellaneous +expenditures. It is, in fact, the great business operator of a military +organization. In an active army, the success of movements depends very +much on its efficiency. Unless the troops are kept properly clothed, the +animals and means of transportation maintained in good condition, and +the immense trains moved with regularity and promptness, the best +contrived plans will fail in their development and execution. + +The department, at the commencement of the war, had supplies in store +only for the current uses of the regular army. When the volunteer forces +were organized it became necessary to make hasty contracts and purchases +to a large amount; but as even the best-informed members of the +Government had no adequate prevision of the extent and duration of the +war, and of the necessary arrangements for its demands, a considerable +period elapsed before a sufficient quantity of the required materials +could be accumulated. Those were the days of 'shoddy' cloth and spavined +horses. The department, however, exhibited great administrative energy, +under the direction of its able head, General M. C. Meigs, and has amply +provided for the enormous demands upon it. + +Depots for the reception of supplies are established in the large +cities, whence they are transferred as required to the great issuing +depots near the active armies, and from them to the depots in the field. +Thus, the main depots of the Army of the Potomac are at Washington and +Alexandria--a field depot being established at its centre, when lying +for any length of time in camp. Only current supplies are kept on hand +at the latter, and no surplus is transported on the march, except the +required amounts of subsistence and forage. + +A great deal is said in connection with military movements, of 'bases of +operation.' These are the points in the rear of an army from which it +receives supplies and reenforcements, and with which its communications +must at all hazards be kept open, except it has means of transportation +sufficient to render it independent of its depots for a considerable +period, or unless the country traversed is able to afford subsistence +for men and animals. When an army marches along a navigable river, its +secondary base becomes movable, and it is less confined to the necessity +of protecting its rear. In Virginia, however, the connection of the Army +of the Potomac with Washington is imperative, and this fact explains the +contracted sphere of the operations of that army. + +The transportation of supplies is limited by the ability of the +Government to provide trains, and by the ability of the army to protect +them; for large trains create large drafts on the troops for teamsters, +pioneers, guards, etc. An army train, upon the most limited allowance +compatible with freedom of operations for a few days, away from the +depots, is an immense affair. Under the existing allowances in the Army +of the Potomac, a corps of thirty thousand infantry has about seven +hundred wagons, drawn by four thousand two hundred mules; the horses of +officers and of the artillery will bring the number of animals to be +provided for up to about seven thousand. On the march it is calculated +that each wagon will occupy about eighty feet--in bad roads much more; +consequently a train of seven hundred wagons will cover fifty-six +thousand feet of road--or over ten miles; the ambulances of a corps will +occupy about a mile, and the batteries about three miles; thirty +thousand troops need six miles to march in, if they form but one column; +the total length of the marching column of a corps is therefore _twenty +miles_, even without including the cattle herds and trains of bridge +material. Readers who have been accustomed to think that our armies have +not exhibited sufficient energy in surmounting the obstacles of bad +roads, unbridged streams, etc., will be able to estimate, upon the above +statements, the immense difficulty of moving trains and artillery. The +trains of an army have been properly denominated its _impedimenta_, and +their movement and protection is one of the most difficult incidental +operations of warfare--particularly in a country like Virginia, where +the art of road making has attained no high degree of perfection, and +where the forests swarm with guerillas. + +To an unaccustomed observer the concourse of the trains of an army, in +connection with any rapid movement, would give the idea of inextricable +confusion. It is of course necessary to move them upon as many different +roads as possible, but it will frequently happen that they must be +concentrated in a small space, and move in a small number of columns. +During the celebrated 'change of base' from Richmond to Harrison's +Landing, the trains were at first obliged to move upon only one +road--across White Oak Swamp--which happened fortunately to be wide +enough for three wagons to go abreast. There were perhaps twenty-five +hundred vehicles, which would make a continuous line of some forty or +fifty miles. While the slow and toilsome course of this cumbrous column +was proceeding, the troops were obliged to remain in the rear and fight +the battles of Savage Station and White Oak Swamp for its protection. A +similar situation of trains occurred last fall when General Meade +retired from the Rappahannock, but fortunately the country presented +several practicable routes. It is on a retreat, particularly, that the +difficulty of moving trains is experienced, and thousands of lives and +much valuable material have been lost by the neglect of commanding +officers to place them sufficiently far in the rear during a battle, so +as to permit the troops to fall back when necessary, without +interruption. + +A march being ordered, supplies according to the capacity of the trains, +are directed to be carried. The present capacity of the trams of the +Army of the Potomac is ten days' subsistence and forage, and sixty +rounds of small-arm ammunition--the men carrying in addition a number of +days' rations, and a number of rounds, upon their persons. When the +wagons reach camp each evening, such supplies as have been expended are +replenished from them. As a general rule the baggage wagons camp every +night with the troops, but the exigencies are sometimes such that +officers are compelled to deny themselves for one or even two weeks the +luxury of a change of clothing--the wagons not reaching camp, perhaps, +till after midnight, and the troops resuming their march an hour or two +afterward. Those who indulge in satires upon the wearers of shoulder +straps would be likely to form a more correct judgment of an officer's +position and its attendant hardships, could they see him at the close of +a fortnight's campaign. Like the soldier, he can rely on nothing for +food or clothing except what is carried by himself, unless he maintains +a servant, and the latter will find a few blankets, a coffee pot, some +crackers, meat, sugar, coffee, etc., for his own and his employer's +consumption, a sufficient burden. + +Let us see how the supplies of the quartermaster's department are +distributed. + +At stated periods, if circumstances permit--usually at the first of each +month--the regimental quartermasters, after consultation with the +company officers, forward through their superiors to the chief +quartermasters of corps, statements of the articles required by the men. +These are consolidated and presented to the chief quartermaster of the +army, who orders them from Washington, and issues them from the army +depot--the whole operation requiring about a week. The number of +different _kinds_ of articles thus drawn monthly is about five hundred; +the _quantity_ of each kind depends on the number of men to be supplied, +and the nature of the service performed since the previous issue. If +there has been much marching, there will be a great demand for shoes; if +a battle, large quantities of all kinds of articles to replace those +lost on the battle field will be required. + +An infantry soldier is allowed the following principal articles of +clothing during a three years' term of service: + + 1st Year. 2d Year. 3d Year. + Cap, 1 1 1 + Coat, 2 1 2 + Trowsers, 3 2 3 + Flannel shirt, 3 3 3 + Drawers, 3 2 2 + Shoes, 4 4 4 + Stockings, 4 4 4 + Overcoat, 1 0 0 + Blanket, 1 0 1 + Indiarubber blanket, 1 1 1 + +The prices of these are stated each year in a circular from the +department, and, as the soldier draws them, his captain charges him with +the prices on the company books. The paymaster deducts from his pay any +excess which he may have drawn, or allows him if he has drawn less than +he is entitled to. The clothing is much cheaper than articles of the +same quality at home. Thus, according to the present prices, a coat +costs $7.30; overcoat, $7.50; trowsers, $2.70; flannel shirt, $1.53; +stockings, 32 cents; shoes, $2.05. + +The _commissary department_ provides exclusively the subsistence of the +troops. Each soldier is entitled to the following daily ration: + + Twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or one pound four ounces of fresh + beef. + + One pound six ounces of soft bread or flour, or one pound of hard + bread, or one pound four ounces of corn meal. + + To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of beans or peas, and ten + pounds of rice or hominy. + + To every one hundred men, ten pounds of green coffee, or eight + pounds of roasted, or one pound and eight ounces of tea. + + To every one hundred men, fifteen pounds of sugar, four quarts of + vinegar, one pound four ounces of candles, four pounds of soap, + three pounds twelve ounces of salt, four ounces of pepper, thirty + pounds of potatoes, when practicable, and one quart of molasses. + + Fresh onions, beets, carrots, and turnips, when on hand, can be + issued in place of beans, peas, rice, or hominy, if the men desire. + + They can also take in place of any part of the ration an amount + equal in value of dried apples, dried peaches, pickles, etc., when + on hand. + +A whiskey ration of a gill per day per man can be issued on the order of +the commander, in cases of extra hardship. It is, however, rarely +issued, on account of the difficulty of finding room for its +transportation in any considerable quantities. Moreover, whiskey, in the +army, is subject to extraordinary and mysterious _leakages_, and an +issue can scarcely be made with such care that some drunkenness will not +ensue. When lying in camp, sutlers and others sell to the soldiers +contrary to law, so that old topers usually find methods of gratifying +their appetites--sometimes sacrificing a large proportion of their pay +to the villains who pander to them. The utmost vigilance of the officers +fails to detect the methods by which liquor is introduced into the army. +When a cask is broached in any secluded place, the intelligence seems +communicated by a pervading electrical current, and the men are seized +with a universal desire to leave camp for the purpose of washing, or +getting wood, or taking a walk, or other praise-worthy purposes. + +The total weight of a ration is something over two pounds, but in +marching, some articles are omitted, and but a small quantity of salt +meat is carried--fresh beef being supplied from the herds of cattle +driven with the army. A bullock will afford about four hundred and fifty +rations, so that an army of one hundred thousand men needs over two +hundred cattle daily for its supply. + +In camp the men can refrain from drawing portions of their rations, and +the surplus is allowed for by the commissaries in money, by which a +company fund can be created, and expended in the purchase of gloves, +gaiters, etc., or luxuries for the table. A hospital fund is formed in +the same way--by an allowance for the portions of the rations not +consumed by the patients--and is expended in articles adapted to diet +for the sick. The rations are ample and of good quality, though the salt +meat is rather tough occasionally, and the consistency of the hard bread +is shot-proof. Company cooks are allowed, and in camp they contrive to +furnish quite appetizing meals. Their position is rather difficult to +fill, and woe is the portion of the cook not competent for his +profession. The practical annoyances to which he is subject make him +realize to the fullest extent 'the unfathomable depths of human woe.' On +the march the men usually prefer to boil their coffee in tin cups, and +to cook their meat on ram-rods--without waiting for the more formal +movements of the cooks. To reach camp before sunset, after a twenty-mile +march, to pitch his little shelter tent, throw in it his heavy arms and +accoutrements, collect some pine twigs for a couch, wash in some +adjacent stream, drink his cup of hot, strong coffee, eat his salt pork +and hard bread, and then wrap himself in his blanket for a dreamless +slumber, is one of the most delicious combinations of luxurious +enjoyment a soldier knows. To-morrow, perhaps, he starts up at the early +_reveille_, takes his hasty breakfast, is marshalled into line before +the enemy, there is a shriek in the air rent by the murderous shell, and +the soldier's last march is ended. + +The next department we shall consider is that of _ordnance_, which +supplies the munitions and portions of accoutrements. + +The subject of _artillery_ is perhaps the most interesting of the great +number connected with warfare. In the popular estimation it overshadows +all others. All the poetry of war celebrates the grandeur of + + 'Those mortal engines whose rude throats + The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit.' + +The thunder of great guns and the dashing of cavalry are the incidents +which spontaneously present themselves to the mind when a battle is +mentioned. Perhaps the accounts of Waterloo are responsible for this. +The steady fighting of masses of infantry, having less particulars to +attract the imagination, is overlooked; the fact, preeminent above all +others in military science, that it is the infantry which contests and +decides battles, that artillery and cavalry are only subordinate +agencies--is forgotten. So splendid have been the inventions and +achievements of the last few years in respect to artillery, as +illustrated particularly at Charleston, that some excuse may easily be +found for the popular misconception. A few remarks presenting some +truths relative to the appropriate sphere of artillery and its powers, +and stating succinctly the results which have been accomplished, may be +found interesting. + +Without entering into the history of artillery, it will be sufficient to +state that the peculiar distinguishing excellence of modern improvements +in cannon is the attainment of superior efficiency, accuracy, and +mobility, with a decrease in weight of metal. A gun of any given size is +now many times superior to one of the same size in use fifty or a +hundred years ago. It is not so much in _big guns_ that we excel our +predecessors--for there are many specimens of old cannon of great +dimensions; but by our advance in science we are able so to shape our +guns and our projectiles that with less weight of material we can throw +larger shot to a greater distance and with more accuracy. A long course +of mathematical experiment and calculation has determined the exact +pressure of a charge of powder at all points in the bore of a cannon +during its combustion and evolution into gas. These experiments have +proved that strength is principally required near the breech, and that a +cannon need not be of so great length as was formerly supposed to be +necessary. We are thus able to construct guns which can be handled, +throwing balls of several hundred pounds' weight. Another splendid +result of scientific investigation is the method adopted for casting +such monster guns. In order that the mass of metal may be of uniform +tenacity and character, it should cool equably. This has been secured by +a plan for introducing a stream of water through the core of the +casting, so that the metal cools both within and without simultaneously. + +About the time that the Italian war commenced, the subject of rifled +cannon excited much popular interest. Exaggerated expectations were +formed of the changes to be produced by them in the art of warfare. Many +saw in them the means of abolishing war entirely. Of what use is it, +they said, to array armies against each other, if they can be destroyed +at two or three miles' distance? At the commencement of our own contest +there was an undue partiality for rifled ordnance. Almost every +commander of a battery desired to have rifled guns. The more correct +views of the thoroughly accomplished artillery officers to whom was +confided the arrangement of this branch of the service, and actual +experience, have dissipated the unfounded estimate of their utility for +field service, and established the proper proportions in an artillery +force which they should compose. It has been ascertained that fighting +will never be confined to long ranges--that guns which can throw large +volumes of spherical case and canister into lines only a few hundred +yards distant are as necessary as ever. + +The necessity for rifled cannon arose from the perfection of rifled +muskets. When these arms reached such a degree of excellence that horses +and gunners could be shot down at a distance of one thousand yards, the +old-fashioned smooth-bore artillery was deprived of its prestige. To +retrieve this disadvantage and restore the superiority of artillery over +musketry in length of range, methods of rifling cannon for field service +became an important study. For assailing distant lines of troops, for +opening a battle, for dispersing bodies of cavalry, for shelling +intrenchments, for firing over troops from hills in their rear, rifled +guns are of invaluable service. But, notwithstanding troops are now +universally armed with muskets of long range, no battle of importance is +fought without close engagements of the lines. The alternate advances +and retreats of the infantry, firing at distances of less than one +hundred yards, charging with fixed bayonets and frantic shouts, will +always characterize any battle fought with vigor and enthusiasm. In such +conflicts, wide-mouthed smooth bores, belching their torrents of iron, +must play a conspicuous part. + +Another fact, which will perhaps surprise the general reader, is that +the form and character of _projectiles_ have been matters of as much +difficulty, have received as much investigation, and are of as much +importance, as the shape and character of the guns. In fact, rifled +pieces would be comparatively ineffective except projectiles adapted to +them had been invented. It was necessary that projectiles of greater +weight, of less resistance to the atmosphere, and of more accuracy of +flight, than the old round shot, should be introduced. To accomplish +these ends several things were necessary: 1st, the projectiles should be +elongated; 2d, they should have conical points; 3d, the centre of +gravity should be at a proper distance in front of the centre; 4th, +there should be methods of _steering_ them so that they should always go +point foremost through the whole curve of their flight; 5th, they should +fit the gun so as to take the rifles, yet not so closely as to strain +it. To attain these and other requisites, innumerable plans have been +devised. The projectile offering the best normal conditions is the +_arrow_; it has length, a sharp point, centre of gravity near the head, +and feathers for guiding it (sometimes so arranged that it shall rotate +like a rifled ball). Improved projectiles, therefore, both for muskets +and cannon, correspond in these essentials to the first products of man +in the savage state. + +We cannot, in this article, further discuss either such general +principles or those of a more abstruse character, in their application +to artillery, but will briefly state a few facts relative to its +employment--confining ourselves exclusively to the _field service_. + +The guns now principally used for battles, in the Northern armies, are +10 and 12-pounder Parrotts, three-inch United States rifles, and light +12-pounder smooth bores. The distinguishing characteristic of the +Parrott guns is lightness of construction, secured by strengthening the +breech (in accordance with the principles mentioned a few paragraphs +back) with a band of wrought iron. This has been applied to guns of all +sizes, and its excellence has been tested by General Gillmore in the +reduction of Forts Pulaski and Sumter. The three-inch guns are made of +wrought iron, are of light weight, but exceedingly tenacious and +accurate. The 12-pounders, sometimes called Napoleons, are of bronze, +with large caliber, and used chiefly for throwing shell and canister at +comparatively short distances. + +The greatest artillery conflict of the war (in the field) occurred at +Gettysburg. For two hours in the afternoon of the memorable third day's +battle, about four hundred cannon were filling the heavens with their +thunder, and sending their volleys of death crashing in all directions. + +It was estimated that the discharges numbered five or six a second; in +fact, the ear could hardly detect any cessations in the roar. The air +was constantly howling as the shells swept through it, while the falling +of branches, cut from the trees by the furious missiles, seemed as if a +tornado was in the height of its fury: every few minutes, a thunder +heard above all other sounds, denoted the explosion of a caisson, +sweeping into destruction, with a cataract of fire and iron, men and +animals for hundreds of feet around it. The effect of such a fire of +artillery is, however, much less deadly than any except those who have +been subject to it can believe. The prevalent impression concerning the +relative destructiveness of cannon and musketry is another instance of +popular error. In the first place, all firing at over a mile distance +contains a large proportion of the elements of chance, for it is +impossible to get the range and to time the fuses so accurately as to +make any considerable percentage of the shots effective; and in the next +place, except when marching to a close conflict, the men are generally +protected by lying down behind inequalities of the ground, or other +accidental or designed defences. The proportion killed in any battle by +artillery fire is very small. Lines of men frequently lie exposed to +constant shelling for hours, with small loss; in fact, in such cases, +old soldiers will eat their rations, or smoke their pipes, or perhaps +have a game of poker, with great equanimity. + +No portion of the military service has been more misrepresented than the +_medical department_. An opinion seems to prevail quite extensively that +the army surgeon is generally a young graduate, vain of his official +position, who cares little for the health of the soldier, and glories in +the opportunities afforded by a battle for reckless operations. Such an +opinion is altogether fallacious. In the regiments there are undoubtedly +many physicians who have adopted the service as a resource for a living +which they were unable to find at home, but the majority are exactly the +same class of professional men as those who pursue useful and honorable +careers in all our cities and villages. When a physician is called upon +at home, it happens in a majority of cases--as every honest member of +the profession will admit--that there is little or no necessity for his +services. Too sagacious to avow this, he gravely makes some simple +prescription, and as gravely pockets his fee. In camp, however, the +potent argument of the fee does not prevail, and men who run to the +doctor with trifling ailments, by which they hope to be relieved from +duty, receive a rebuff instead of a pill. They instantly write letters +complaining of his inhumanity. In regard to operations, it is a frequent +remark by the most experienced surgeons that lives are lost from the +hesitancy to amputate, more frequently than limbs are removed +unnecessarily. + +The medical department of an army, like every other, is controlled by a +_system_, and it is this which regulates its connections with the +soldier more than the qualifications of individual surgeons. In the army +the _system_ takes care of everything, even to the minutest details. +Hygienic regulations for preserving the salubrity of camps and the +cleanliness of the troops and their tents, are prescribed and enforced. +Every day there is a 'sick call' at which men who find themselves ill +present themselves to the surgeons for treatment. If slightly affected, +they are taken care of in their own quarters; if more seriously, in the +regimental hospitals; if still more so, in the large hospitals +established by the chief medical officer of the corps; and if necessary, +sent to the Government hospitals established at various places in the +country. To the latter almost all the sick are transferred previous to a +march. To be ill in the army, amid the constant noises of a camp, and +with the non-luxurious appliances of a field hospital, is no very +pleasant matter; but the sick soldier receives all the attention and +accommodation possible under the circumstances. + +To every corps is attached a train of ambulances, in the proportion of +two or three to a regiment. They are spring wagons with seats along the +sides, like an omnibus, which can, when necessary, be made to form a bed +for two or three persons. With each train is a number of wagons, +carrying tents, beds, medicine chests, etc., required for the +establishment of hospitals. On the march, the ambulances collect the +sick and exhausted who fall out from the columns and have a surgeon's +certificate as to their condition. When a battle is impending, and the +field of conflict fixed, the chief medical officers of the corps take +possession of houses and barns in the rear, collect hay and straw for +bedding, or, if more convenient, pitch the tents at proper localities. A +detail of surgeons is made to give the necessary attendance. While the +battle proceeds, the lightly wounded fall to the rear, and are there +temporarily treated by the surgeons who have accompanied the troops to +the field, and then find their way to the hospitals. If the fighting has +passed beyond the places where lie the more dangerously wounded, they +are brought to the rear by the 'stretcher bearers' attached to the +ambulance trains, and carried to the hospitals in the ambulances. +Sometimes it happens that the strife will rage for hours on nearly the +same spot, and it may be night before the 'stretcher bearers' can go out +and collect the wounded. But the surgeons make indefatigable exertions, +often exposed to great danger, to give their attention to those who +require it. At the best, war is terrible--all its 'pomp, pride, and +circumstance' disappear in the view of the wounded and dead on the +field, and of the mangled remnants of humanity in the hospitals. But +everything that can be devised and applied to mitigate its horrors is +provided under the systematized organization of the medical department. +In the Army of the Potomac, at least, and undoubtedly in all the other +armies of the North, that department combines skill, vigor, humanity, +and efficiency to an astonishing degree. Its results are exhibited not +only in the small mortality of the camps, but in the celerity of its +operation on the field of battle, and the great proportion of lives +preserved after the terrible wounds inflicted by deadly fragments of +shell and the still more deadly rifle bullet. Military surgery has +attained a degree of proficiency during the experiences of the past +three years which a layman cannot adequately describe; its results are, +however, palpable. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Since that article was written, some changes of detail have +been made, but the principles remain the same.] + + + + +AENONE: + +A TALE OF SLAVE LIFE IN ROME. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Raising himself with an assumed air of careless indifference, in the +hope of thereby concealing the momentary weakness into which his better +feelings had so nearly betrayed him, Sergius strolled off, humming a +Gallic wine song. AEnone also rose; and, struggling to stifle her +emotion, confronted the new comer. + +She, upon her part, stood silent and impassive, appearing to have heard +or seen nothing of what had transpired, and to have no thought in her +mind except the desire of fulfilling the duty which had brought her +thither. But AEnone knew that the most unobservant person, upon entering, +could not have failed at a glance to comprehend the whole import of the +scene--and that therefore any such studied pretence of ignorance was +superfluous. The attitude of the parties, the ill-disguised confusion of +Sergius, her own tears, which could not be at once entirely +repressed--all combined to tell a tale of recrimination, pleading, and +baffled confidence, as plainly as words could have spoken it. Apart, +therefore, from her disappointment at being interrupted at the very +moment when her hopes had whispered that the happiness of reconciliation +might be at hand, AEnone could not but feel indignant that Leta should +thus calmly stand before her with that pretence of innocent +unconsciousness. + +'Why do you come hither? Who has demanded your presence?' AEnone cried, +now, in her indignation, caring but little what or how she spoke, or +what further revelations her actions might occasion, as long as so much +had already been exposed. + +'My lady,' rejoined the Greek, raising her eyes with a well-executed air +of surprise, 'do I intrude? I came but to say that in the antechamber +there is--' + +'Listen!' exclaimed AEnone, interrupting her, and taking her by the hand. +'Not an hour ago you told me about your quiet home in Samos--its green +vines--the blue mountains which encircled it--the little chamber where +your mother died, and in which you were born--and the lover whom you +left weeping at your cruel absence. You spoke of your affection for +every leaf and blade of grass about the place--and how you would give +your life itself to go back thither--yes, even your life, for you would +be content to lie down and die, if you could first return. Do you +remember?' + +'Well, my lady?' + +'Well, you shall return, as you desired. You have been given to me for +my own; and whether or not the gift be a full and free one, I will claim +my rights under it and set you free. In the first ship which sails from +Ostia for any port of Greece, in that ship you may depart. Are you +content, Leta?' + +Still holding her by the hand, AEnone gazed inquiringly into the burning +black eyes which fastened themselves upon her own, as though reading the +bottom of her soul. She could not as yet believe that even if the Greek +had actually begun to cherish any love for Sergius, it could be more +than a passing fancy, engendered by foolish compliments or ill-judged +signs of admiration, and therefore she did not doubt that the offer of +freedom and restoration would be gratefully received. Her only +uncertainty was with regard to the manner in which it would be listened +to--whether with tears of joy or with loud protestations of gratitude +upon bended knees; or whether the prospect of once again visiting that +cottage home and all that had so long been held dear, would come with +such unpremeditated intensity as to stifle all outward manifestations of +delight, except, perhaps, that trembling of the lip or ebb and flow of +color which is so often the surest sign of a full and glowing heart. + +For a moment Leta stood gazing up into the face of her mistress, +uttering no word of thanks, and with no tear of joy glistening in her +eye, but with the deepened flush of uncontrollable emotion overspreading +her features. And yet that flush seemed scarcely the token of a heart +overpowered with sudden joy, but rather of a mind conscious of being +involved in an unexpected dilemma, and puzzled with its inability to +extricate itself. + +'My mistress,' she responded at length, with lowered gaze, 'it is true +that I said I would return, if possible, to that other home of mine. But +now that you offer me the gift, I would not desire to accept it. Let me +stay here with you.' + +AEnone dropped the hand which till now she had held; and an agony of +mingled surprise, suspicion, disappointment, and presentiment of evil +swept across her features. + +'Are you then become like all others?' she said with bitterness. 'Has +the canker of this Roman life already commenced to eat into your soul, +so that in future no memory of anything that is pure or good can attract +you from its hollow splendors? Are thoughts of home, of freedom, of +friends, even of the trusted lover of whom you spoke--are all these now +of no account, when weighed against a few gilded pleasures?' + +'Why, indeed, should I care to return to that home?' responded the girl. +'Have not the Roman soldiers trodden down those vines and uprooted that +hearth? Is it a desolated and stricken home that I would care to see?' + +'False--false!' cried AEnone, no longer regardful of her words, but only +anxious to give utterance--no matter how rashly--to the suspicions which +she had so long and painfully repressed. 'It is even more than the mere +charms of this imperial city which entice you. It is that you are my +enemy, and would stay here to sting the hand that was so truly anxious +to protect you--that for your own purposes you would watch about my +path, and ever, as now, play the spy upon my actions, and--' + +'Nay, nay!' cried the Greek, her flashing eye and erect attitude in +strong contrast with the softened tone in which, more from habit than +from prudence, she had spoken. 'When have I played the spy upon you? Not +now, indeed, for I have come in, not believing that I was doing harm, +but simply because my duty has led me hither. I came to tell you that +there is a stranger--an old man--standing in the court below, and that +he craves audience with you. Is this a wrong thing for me to do? Were I +to forbear performance of this duty, would not my neglect insure me +punishment?' + +AEnone answered not, but, by a strong effort, kept back the words that +she would have uttered. Still angry and crushed with the sense of being +deceived, and yet conscious that it was not a noble or dignified thing +to be in disputation with her own slave, and that there was, moreover, +the remote possibility that the girl was not her enemy, and might really +dread returning to a desolated and devastated home, what could she say +or do? And while she pondered the matter, the door again opened. + +'And this is he of whom I spoke. Do you doubt me now?' exclaimed the +Greek, in a tone in which a shade of malicious triumph mingled with soft +reproach. And she moved away, and left the room, while AEnone, lifting +her eyes, saw her father standing before her. + +'A plague take the wench who has just left you!' he muttered. 'Did she +not tell you that I was below? I sent word by her, and here she has left +me for half an hour kicking my heels together in the courtyard. And I +might have stayed there forever, if I had not of myself found my way up. +Even then, there were some who would have stopped me, deeming me, +perhaps, too rough in appearance to be allowed to ascend. But I told +them that there was a time when members of the house of Porthenus did +not wait in antechambers, but stood beside the consuls of the old +republic, and I touched the hilt of my dagger; and whether it was the +one argument or the other which prevailed, here I am.' + +With a grim smile the centurion then threw himself down upon a settee +near the door, arranged as properly as possible the folds of his coarse +tunic, drew his belt round so as to show more in front his dagger with +richly embossed sheath--the sole article of courtly and ceremonious +attire in which he indulged--and endeavored to assume an easy and +imposing attitude. For an instant he gazed around the room, observantly +taking in its wealth of mosaic pavement, paintings, statuary, and vases. +Then, as he began to fear lest he might be yielding too much of his +pride before the overbearing influence of so much luxury, he +straightened himself up, gathered upon his features a hard and somewhat +contemptuous expression, and roughly exclaimed: + +'Yes, by the gods, the Portheni lived with consuls and proconsuls long +before the house of Vanno began to rise from the dregs and become a +house at all. And the imperator knows it, and is jealous of the fact, +too, or else he would the better acknowledge it. What, now, is that?' he +added, pointing to the central fresco of the ceiling. + +'It is--I know not for certain, my father--but I think--' + +'Nay, but I know what it is. It is the old story of the three Vanni +overcoming the five Cimbri at the bridge of Athesis. No great matter, +nor so very long ago, even if it were true. But why did he not paint up, +instead, how the founder of the Portheni, with his single arm, slew the +ten Carthaginians under the aqueduct of Megara? Is not now your family +history a portion of his own? His jealousy prevented him, I suppose; +though I doubt not that, when in his cups with his high associates, he +often boasts of his connection with the house of Porthenus. And yet he +would let the only relic of the family starve before assisting him.' + +AEnone stood as in a maze of confusion and uncertainty. Were the trials +of the day never to end? First her unsatisfactory strife and pleading +with her husband; then the undignified contest with her own slave into +which she had been betrayed; and now came this old man--her father, to +be sure--but so much the more mortifying to her, as his vulgarity, +querulous complaining, and insulting strictures were forced upon her +ears. + +'Are you not comfortable? What more can he or I do for you?' she said, +with some impatience. + +'Ay, ay; there it is,' growled the centurion. 'One person must have all +luxuries--paintings, silver, and the like; but if the other has only +mere comforts, an extra tunic, perhaps, or a spare bit of meat for a +dog, what more can he want? But I will tell you what you can do? And it +is not as a gift, I ask it. Poor and despised as he may be, no one can +say that the centurion Porthenus is a beggar. It is as a fair matter of +business that I offer it.' + +'Well, my father?' + +'It is this: I have two slaves, and can afford to keep only one of them, +particularly as but one can be of use to me. Will the imperator purchase +the other? I will give it for a fair price, and therefore no one can say +that I have asked for anything beyond a proper trade, with which either +side should be well satisfied.' + +AEnone listened with a blush of shame for her father overspreading her +face. It did not occur to her that the slave rejected as useless could +be any other than the hunchback, whom her husband had bestowed upon the +centurion a few days before; and for the receiver to try to sell back a +gift to the giver was a depth of meanness for which no filial partiality +or affection could find an excuse. + +'I will show him to you,' cried the centurion, losing a little of his +gruffness in his eagerness to effect a transaction, whereby, under the +thin guise of a simple trade, he could extort a benefit. 'I have brought +him with me, and left him below. You will see that he is of good +appearance, and that the imperator will be pleased and grateful to me +for the opportunity of possessing him.' + +So saying, Porthenus strode to the head of the stairway, and issued his +commands in a stern voice, which made the vaulted ceilings of the palace +ring. A faint, weak response came up in answer, and in a moment the +slave entered the room. + +'Is this the one of whom you spoke?' faltered AEnone, unable for the +moment to retain her self-possession as she beheld, not the angular, +wiry form of the hunchback, but the careworn and slim figure of Cleotos. +'I thought--indeed I thought that you spoke of the inferior of the two.' + +'Ay, and so I do,' responded her father. 'Of what use to me can this man +be? The other one, indeed, is of tenfold value. There is no slave in +Rome like unto him for cleaning armor or sharpening a weapon, while to +run of an errand or manage any piece of business in which brains must +bear their part, I will trust him against the world. But as for this man +here, with his weak limbs and his simple face--do you know that I did +but set him to polish the rim of a shield, and in his awkwardness he let +it fall, and spoiled the surface as though a Jewish spear had stricken +it.' + +AEnone remained silent, scarcely listening to the words of her father, +while, in a troubled manner, she again mentally ran over, as she had +done hundreds of times before, the chances of recognition by the man who +stood before her. + +'But listen to me still further,' continued the centurion, fearful lest +his disparaging comments might defeat the projected sale. 'I only speak +of him as he is useful or not to me. To another person he would be most +valuable; for, though he cannot polish armor, he can polish verses, and +he can write as well as though he were educated for a scribe. For one +favored of fortune like the imperator Sergius Vanno,' and here again the +centurion began to roll the high-sounding name upon his tongue with +obvious relish, 'who wishes an attendant to carry his wine cup, or to +bear his cloak after him, or to trim his lamps, and read aloud his +favorite books, where could a better youth than this be found?' + +AEnone, still overpowered by her troubled thoughts, made no response. + +'Or to yourself,' eagerly continued the centurion, 'he would be most +suitable, with his pale, handsome face, and his slender limbs. Have you +a page?' + +'I have my maidens,' was the answer. + +'And that amounts to nothing at all,' asserted her father. 'A plebeian +can have her maidens in plenty, but it is not right that the wife of a +high and mighty imperator,' and here again the words rolled majestically +off his tongue, 'should not also have her male attendants. And the more +so when that wife has been taken from an ancient house like that of +Porthenus,' he added, with a frown in derogation of any tendency to give +undue importance to her present position. 'But with this Cleotos--come +forward, slave, and let yourself be seen.' + +Cleotos, who, partly from natural diffidence, and partly from being +abashed at the unaccustomed splendor about him, had, little by little, +from his first entrance, shrunk into a corner, now advanced; and AEnone, +once more resolutely assuring herself that, with the changes which time, +position, difference of place and costume had thrown about her, she +could defy recognition, summoned all her courage, and looked him in the +face. It may have been with an unacknowledged fear lest, now that she +saw him so freely in the broad daylight, some latent spark of the old +attachment might burst into a flame, and withdraw her heart from its +proper duty; but at the first glance she felt that in this respect she +had nothing to dread. In almost every particular, Cleotos had but little +changed. His costume was but slightly different from that which he had +always been accustomed to wear; for the centurion, in view of the chance +of effecting a profitable sale, had, for that occasion, made him put on +suitable and becoming attire. The face was still youthful--the eye, as +of old, soft, expressive, and unhardened by the ferocities of the world +about him. As AEnone looked, it seemed as though the years which had +passed rolled back again, and that she was once more a girl. But it also +seemed as though something else had passed away--as though she looked +not upon a lover, but rather upon a quiet, kindhearted, innocent +friend--one who could ever be dear to her as a brother, but as nothing +else. What was it which had so flitted away that the same face could now +stir up no fire of passion, but only a friendly interest? Something, she +could not tell what; but she thanked the gods that it was so, and drew a +long breath of relief. + +But it was none the less incumbent upon her, for the sake of that +present friendship and for the memory of that old regard, to cast her +protection over him. For an instant the thought flashed across her that +it would be well to purchase him, not simply for a page, but so that she +could have him in the way of kind treatment and attention until some +opportunity of restoring him to his native land might occur. But then +again was the danger that, if any great length of time should meanwhile +elapse, unconsidered trifles might lead to a recognition. No, that plan +could not be thought of. She must keep a protecting eye upon him from a +distance, and trust to the future for a safe working out of the problem. + +'It cannot be,' she murmured, in answer, half to her father, half to her +own suggestion. + +''Tis well,' muttered the centurion, rising with an air of displeasure +which indicated that he thought it very ill. 'I supposed that it would +be a kindness to the imperator or to yourself to give the first offer of +the man. But it matters little. The captain Polidorus will take him any +moment at a fair price.' + +'You will not send him to the captain Polidorus?' exclaimed AEnone in +affright. For at once the many atrocities of that man toward his slaves +rose in her mind--how that he had slain one in a moment of passion--how +that he had deliberately beaten another to death for attempting to +escape to the catacombs--how that stripes and torture were the daily +portion of the unfortunates in his power--and that, not by reason of any +gross neglect of their duty, but for the merest and most trifling +inadvertencies. Better death than such a fate. + +'Pah! What can I do?' retorted Porthenus, skilfully touching the chord +of her sympathies, as he saw how sensitive she was to its vibrations. +'It is true that Polidorus is no fawning woman, and that he greets his +slaves with the rod and the brand, and what not. It is true that he +thinks but little of sending one of them to Hades through the avenue of +his fishponds. But that, after all, is his affair, and if he chooses to +destroy his property, what should it matter to me? Am I so rich that I +can afford to lose a fair purchaser because he may incline to hang or +drown his bargain? Such self-denial may suit the governor of a +province, but should not be expected of a poor centurion.' + +AEnone trembled, and again the impulse to make the purchase came upon +her. Better to risk anything for herself--recognition, discovery, +suspicion, or misconstruction, than that her friendship should so far +fail as to allow this poor captive to fall into the hands of a brutish +tyrant. There was a purse of gold in the half-opened drawer of a table +which stood near her; and, in sore perplexity, she raised it, then let +it fall, and again lifted it. As the centurion listened to the ring of +the metal, his eyes sparkled, and he prepared to apply new arguments, +when Cleotos himself sprang forward. + +'I know nothing about this Polidorus of whom they speak,' said he, +dropping upon one knee at her feet. 'And it is not to save myself from +his hands that I ask your pity, most noble lady. There is much that I +have already suffered, and perhaps a little more might make no +difference, or, better yet, might close the scene with me forever. It is +for other reasons that I would wish to be in this house--even as the +lowest, meanest slave of all, rather than to live in the halls of the +emperor Titus himself. There is one in this house, most noble lady, from +whom I have long been cruelly separated, and who--what can I say but +that if, when I was a free man, she gave me her love, now, in my +abasement, she will not fail with that love to brighten my lot?' + +AEnone started. At hearing such words, there could be but one thought in +her mind--that he had actually recognized her, and that, without waiting +to see whether or not she had forgotten him, and certainly knowing that +in any event her position toward him had become changed, he was daring +to covertly suggest a renewal of their old relationship. But the next +words reassured her. + +'We lived near each other in Samos, my lady. I was happy, and I blessed +the fates for smiling upon us. How was I then to know that she would be +torn away from me upon the very day when I was to have led her to my own +home?' + +'You say that she is here? Is it--do you speak of Leta?' cried AEnone. + +'Leta was her name,' he responded, in some surprise that his secret had +been so promptly penetrated before he had more than half unfolded it. +'And she is here.' + +There was to AEnone perhaps one instant of almost unconscious regret at +learning that she had been forgotten for another. But it passed away +like a fleeting cloud--banished from her mind by the full blaze of +happiness which poured in upon her at the thought that here at last was +what would counteract the cruel schemes which were warring against her +peace, and would thereby bring sure relief to her sorrow. + +'And she is here,' repeated Cleotos. 'When at the first she was torn +from my side, most noble lady, I would have died, if I could, for I did +not believe that life had any further blessing in store for me. But, +though the Roman armies were cruel, the fates have been kind, and have +again brought us near. It was but a week ago that, as I looked up by the +moonlight at these palace walls, I saw her. Can it be, that after so +long a time, the gods meant I should be brought near, to have but this +one glimpse of happiness, and then again be sundered from it?' + +'It cannot be--it was not meant to be,' exclaimed AEnone, with energy; +and again lifting the purse of gold, she placed it in the centurion's +hand. 'There, I will purchase your slave,' she said. 'Take from this his +proper price, and leave him with me.' + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The centurion received the purse with ill-dissembled joy. Had he been +fully able to control himself, he would doubtless have maintained a +quiet air of dignified self-possession, befitting one giving full value +for what he had received, and therefore not expected to exhibit any +peculiarly marked or lively satisfaction. But the affair had been +concluded so suddenly, and with such a liberal confidence in his +discretion, that, for the moment, his hands trembled with excitement, +and his face shone with avaricious pleasure. + +Then he began to count out the gold pieces, gleefully dropping some into +his pouch, and reluctantly putting others back into the purse. From the +first he had established in his own mind the valuation which he would +place upon the slave; and he had taken care to make his calculation upon +such a liberal scale that he could well afford to consent to a large +deduction, if it were required of him. Now he reasoned that, as his +child had merely told him to take out what was proper, there could be no +impropriety in paying himself at the highest possible price. She would +never mind, and there were many comforts which he needed, and which an +extra gold piece or two would enable him to procure for himself. + +Then, as he weighed the purse and pondered over it, numerous wants and +requirements, which he had hardly known until that time, came into his +mind. He might supply them all, if he were not too timid or scrupulous +in availing himself of an opportunity such as might never come to him +again. Had even his first valuation of the slave been a sufficient one? +He ought certainly to consider that the man could read and write, and +was of such beauty and grace that he could be trained to a most courtly +air; and it was hardly proper to sell him for no more than the price of +a couple of gladiators, mere creatures of bone and brawn. And, in any +event, it was hardly probable that AEnone knew the true value of slaves, +or even remembered how much her purse had contained. + +Thus meanly reflecting, the centurion dropped more of the gold pieces +into his pocket, all the while eying the slave with keen scrutiny, as +though calculating the market value of every hair upon his head. Then, +with a sigh, he handed back the purse, most wofully lightened of its +contents, and turned from the room, endeavoring to compose his features +into a decent appearance of sober indifference, and muttering that he +would not have allowed himself to be betrayed into giving up such a +prize so cheaply had it not been that he had an especial regard for the +imperator Sergius Vanno, and that the house of Porthenus had never +nourished mere traders to wrangle and chaffer over their property. + +In one of his conjectures he had been correct. It was little that AEnone +knew or cared about the price she was paying. Had the purse been +returned to her entirely empty, she would have thrown it unheedingly +into the drawer, and have never dreamed but that all had been rightly +done. There was now but one idea filling her heart. She thought not +about money nor any imprudence which she was committing, nor yet upon +the chance of recognition. She only reflected that the day of her +triumph had come--that at the sight of the long-absent lover, Leta would +abandon the wrong path in which she had been straying, would throw +herself into his arms, would tell him how, through the loss of him, she +had become reckless, and had allowed her suffering mind to become +perverted from the right--but that now all was again well; and thus +confessing and being forgiven, would, in the ever-present joy of that +forgiveness, lead for the future a different life, and, instead of a +rival, become to her mistress a friend and ally. + +Glowing with this bright hope, AEnone scarcely noticed the shuffling +departure of the centurion, but, fixing her eyes upon the captive, +keenly scrutinized his appearance. Not that it was likely that Leta, in +the first flush of her joy at meeting him, would notice or care in what +guise he was presented, so long as the soul which had so often +responded to her own was there. But it was well that there should be +nothing neglected which, without being directly essential to the +production of a proper impression, might be tributary to it. + +The inspection was satisfactory. Not only was the dress of the captive +clean, neat, becoming, and suitable to his station, but his appearance +had undergone visible improvement since AEnone had last seen him. The +rest and partial composure of even the few intervening days had sufficed +to restore tone to his complexion, roundness to his cheeks, and +something of the old merry smile to his eyes. And though complete +restoration was not yet effected, enough had been accomplished to show +that there was much latent beauty which would not fail to develop itself +under the stimulant of additional rest and kindly treatment. + +'Go in, thither,' said AEnone, pointing to the adjoining room, in which +Leta was occupied. 'When you are there, you will--it will be told you +what you are to do.' + +Cleotos bowed low, and passed through into the other room; and AEnone +followed him with a glance which betrayed the longing she felt to enter +with him and witness the meeting of the two lovers. But a sense of +propriety outweighed her curiosity and restrained her. It was not right, +indeed, that she should intrude. Such recognitions should be sacred to +the persons directly interested in them. She would therefore remain +outside, and there await Cleotos's return. And as she took into her +hands a little parchment ode which lay upon her table, and nervously +endeavored to interest herself in it, she delightedly pictured the +sudden transport of those within the next room, and the beaming joy with +which, hand in hand, they would finally emerge to thank her for their +newly gained happiness. + +In the mean time, Leta, having delivered her message, and received her +rebuke for the interruption, had retired to the other room, and there, +as usual, resumed her daily task of embroidery. Bending low over the +intricate stitches and counting their spaces, her features, at a casual +glance, still bore their impress of meek and unconscious humility, so +far did her accustomed self-control seem to accompany her even when +alone. But a more attentive scrutiny would have detected, half hidden +beneath the fringed eyelids, a sparkle of gratified triumph, and, in the +slightly bent corners of the mouth, a shade of haughty disdain; and +little by little, as the moments progressed, these indications of an +inner, irrepressible nature gained in intensity, and, as though her +fingers were stayed by a tumult of thought, her work slowly began to +slip from her grasp. + +At length, lifting her head, and, perhaps, for the first time realizing +that she was alone and might indulge her impulses without restraint, she +abruptly threw from her the folds of the embroidery, and stood erect. +Why should she longer trifle with that weak affair of velvet and dyes? +Who was the poor, inanimate, and tearful statue in the next room, to +order her to complete those tasks? What to herself were the past deeds +of the Vanni, that they should be perpetuated in ill-fashioned tapestry, +to be hung around a gilded banquet hall? By the gods! she would from +that day make a new history in the family life; and it should be +recorded, not with silken threads upon embroidered velvet, but should be +engraved deeply and ineffaceably upon human hearts! + +Standing motionless in the centre of the room, with one foot upon the +half-completed tapestry, she now for the first time, and in a flash of +inspiration, gave shape and comeliness to her previously confusedly +arranged ideas. Until the present moment she had had but little thought +of accomplishing anything beyond skilfully availing herself of her +natural attractions so as to climb from her menial position into +something a little better and higher. If, in the struggle to raise +herself from the degradation of slavery, she were obliged to engage in a +rivalry with her mistress, and, by robbing her of the affection +naturally belonging to her, were to crush her to the earth, it was a +thing to be deplored, but it must none the less be done. She might, +perhaps, pity the victim, but the sacrifice must be accomplished all the +same. + +But now these vague dreams of a somewhat better lot, to be determined by +future chance circumstances, rolled away like a shapeless cloud, and +left in their place one bright image as the settled object of her +ambition. So lofty, so dazzling seemed the prize, that another person +would have shrunk in dismay from even the thought of striving for it, +and even she, for the moment, recoiled. But she was of too determined a +nature to falter long. The higher the object to be attained the fewer +would be the competitors, and the greater the chance of success to +unwearying determination. And if there were but one chance of success in +a thousand, it were still worth the struggle. + +This great thought which stimulated her ambition was nothing less than +the resolution to become the wife of the imperator Sergius. At first it +startled her with its apparent wild extravagance; but little by little, +as she weighed the chances, it seemed to become more practicable. There +was, indeed, nothing grossly impossible in the idea. Men of high rank +had ere now married their slaves, and the corrupted society of Rome had +winked at mesalliances which, in the days of the republic, would not +have been tolerated. And she was merely a slave from accidental +circumstances--being free born, and having, but a month before, been the +pride and ornament of a respectable though lowly family. Once let her +liberty be restored, and the scarcely perceptible taint of a few weeks' +serfdom be removed from her, and she would be, in all social respects, +fully the equal of the poor, trembling maid of Ostia, to whom, a few +years before, the patrician had not been ashamed to stoop. + +This bar of social inequality thus removed, the rest might be in her own +hands. Sergius no longer felt for his wife the old affection, under the +impulse of which he had wedded her; and the few poor remains of the love +which he still cherished, more from habit than otherwise, were fast +disappearing. This was already so evident as to have become the common +gossip of even the lowliest slaves in the household. And he loved +herself instead, for not only his actions, but his words had told her +so. A little more craft and plotting, therefore--a little further +display of innocent and lowly meekness and timid obedience--a few more +well-considered efforts to widen the conjugal breach--a week or two more +persistent exercise of those fascinations which men were so feeble to +resist--jealousy, recrimination, quarrels, and a divorce--and the whole +thing might be accomplished. In those days of laxity, divorce was an +easy matter. In this case there was no family influence upon the part of +the wife to be set up in opposition--but merely an old centurion, +ignorant and powerless. A few writings, for form's sake--and the day +that sent the weeping wife from the door might install the manumitted +and triumphant slave in her place. + +All aglow with the ravishing prospect--her eager hopes converting the +possible into the probable, and again, by a rapid change, the probable +into the certain, the Greek stood spurning the needle work at her feet. +Then glancing around, the whim seized upon her to assume, for a moment +in advance, her coming stately dignity. At the side of the room, upon a +slightly elevated platform, was a crimson lounge--AEnone's especial and +proper seat. Over one arm of this lounge hung, in loose folds, a robe +of purple velvet, with an embroidered fringe of pearls--a kind of cloak +of state, usually worn by her upon the reception of ceremonious visits. +To this lounge Leta strode, threw herself upon it, drew the velvet +garment over her shoulders, so that the long folds fell down gracefully +and swept the marble pavement at her feet, and there, half sitting, half +reclining, assumed an attitude of courtly dignity, as though mistress of +the palace. + +And it must be confessed that she well suited the place. With her lithe, +graceful figure thrown into a position in which the gentle languor of +unembarrassed leisure was mingled with the dignity of queenly +state--with her burning eyes so tempered in their brilliancy that they +seemed ready at the same instant to bid defiance to impertinent +intrusion, and to bestow gracious condescension upon suppliant +timidity--with every feature glowing with that proper pride which is not +arrogance, and that proper kindliness which is not humility--there was +probably in all Rome no noble matron who could as well adorn her chair +of ceremony. Beside her, the true mistress of the place would have +appeared as a timid child dismayed with unaccustomed honors; and in +comparison, the empress herself might not fill her throne in the palace +of the Caesars with half the grace and dignity. + +Then, as she there sat, momentarily altering her attitude to correspond +the better with her ideas of proper bearing, and gathering into newer +and more pleasing folds the sweeping breadths of the velvet mantle, the +door was slowly swung open, and there glided noiselessly in, clad in its +neat and coarse tunic, the timid figure of her old lover Cleotos. + +For an instant they remained gazing at each other as though paralyzed. +Cleotos--who had looked to see her in her simple white vestment as of +old, and had expected at her first glance to rush to her arms, and there +be allowed to pour forth his joy at again meeting her, never more to +part--beheld with dismay this gorgeously arrayed and queenly figure. +This could not be the Leta whom he had known, or, if so, how changed! +Was this the customary attire of slaves in high-placed families? Or +could it be the token of a guilty favoritism? His heart sank within him; +and he stood nervously clinging against the door behind him, fearing to +advance, lest, at the first step, some terrible truth, of which he had +already seemed to feel the premonitions, might burst upon him. + +And she, for the moment, sat aghast, not knowing but that the gods, to +punish her pride and ambition, had sent a spectre to confront her. But +being of strong mind and but little given to superstitious terrors, she +instantly reasoned out the facts of his simultaneous captivity with +herself and coincidence of ownership; and her sole remaining doubt was +in what manner she should treat him. They had parted in sorrow and +tears, and she knew that he now expected her to fall into his arms and +there repeat her former vows of constancy and love. But that could not +be. Had he come to her but an hour before, while her dreams of the +future were of a vague and unsatisfactory character, she might have +acted upon such an impulse. But now, a glorious vision of what might +possibly happen had kindled her ambition with brighter fires than ever +before; and could she surrender all that, and think again only upon +starving freedom in a cottage home? + +'Is it thou, Cleotos? Welcome to Rome!' she said at length, throwing +from her shoulder the purple cloak, and approaching him. As she spoke, +she held out her hand. He took it in his own, in a lifeless and +mechanical sort of way, and gazed into her face with a strange look of +inquiring doubt, which momentarily settled into an expression of deeper +apprehension. The blackness of despair began to enter into his soul. Now +that she was divested of her borrowed richness, she looked more like +herself, and that was surely her voice uttering tones of greeting; but +somehow her heart did not seem to be in them, and, for a certainty, this +had not been her wonted style of welcome. + +'I thought,' she continued, 'that thou wert slain. Certainly when I +parted from you ere you fled into the mountains--' + +'You know that I fled not at all,' he interrupted, the color mounting +into his temples. 'Why do you speak so, Leta? I retired to the mountains +to meet my friends there and with them carry on the defence; and, +previous thereto, I conducted you to what I believed to be a place of +safety. And I fought my best against the foe, and was brought nigh unto +death. This I did, though I can boast of but a weak and slender frame. +And it is hard that the first greeting of one so well loved as you +should be a taunt.' + +'Nay, forgive me,' she said. 'I doubt not your valor. It was but in +forgetfulness that I spoke. I meant it not for a taunt.' And in truth +she had not so meant it. It was but the inadvertent expression of a +feeling which the sight of his feeble and boyish figure unwittingly made +upon her--an incapacity to connect deeds of valor with apparent physical +weakness. But this very inability to judge of his true nature by the +soul that strove to look into her own rather than by material +impressions was perhaps no slight proof of the little unison between her +nature and his. + +'Sit down here,' she continued, 'and tell me all that has happened to +you.' And they sat together, and he briefly told her of his warlike +adventures, his wound, his captivity, his recognition of herself, and +his successful attempt to be once more under the same roof with her. And +somehow it still seemed to him that their talk was not as of old, and +that her sympathy with his misfortunes was but weak and cheerless; and +though he tried to interweave the customary words of endearment with his +story, there was a kind of inner check upon him, so that they came not +readily to his lips as of old. And she sat, trying to listen, and indeed +keeping the thread of his adventures in her mind; but all the while +finding her attention fail as she speculated how she could best give +that explanation of her feelings which she knew would soon be demanded +of her. + +'And here I am at last, Leta--as yourself, a slave!' he concluded. + +'Courage, my friend!' was her answer. 'There are very many degrees and +fates reserved for all in this old Rome, and much for every man to +learn. And many a one who has begun as a slave has, in the end, attained +not only to freedom, but to high honor and station.' + +'If the gods were to give me honor and station, far be it from me to +refuse the gift,' he said. 'But that, of itself alone, would not content +me, unless you were there to share the good with me. And with yourself I +would crave no other blessing. We are slaves here, Leta, but even that +fate may have its mitigations and happiness for us.' + +She was silent. How could she tell it to him? But his suspicions, at +first vague, were now aroused by her very silence into more certainty. + +'Tell me,' he cried, again taking her hand, 'tell me my fate; and if +sorrow is to come upon me, let it come now. It seems as though there +were indeed evil tidings in store for me. The blight of anticipated evil +even weighed upon me ere I passed yonder hall, and when I knew no reason +why I should not find you loving of heart and humble of desire as in +other days. Is it all gone? Are you no longer the same? This tawdry +velvet in which I found you arrayed--is it the type of a something +equally foreign to your nature, and which imperial Rome has thrown +about you to aid in crushing out the better feelings of your heart?' + +'My friend, my brother,' she said at length, with some real pity and +some false sorrow, 'why have we again met? Why is it now forced upon me +to tell you that the past must always be the past with us?' + +He dropped her hand, and the tears started into his eyes. Much as the +words and gestures of the last few minutes had prepared him for the +announcement, yet when it came, it smote him as though there had been no +premonition of it; so lovingly had his heart persisted in clinging to +the faint hope that he might have been mistaken. A low wail of anguish +burst from his lips. + +'And this is the end of all?' he sobbed. + +'Think only,' she said, 'think only that I am not worthy of you.' + +'The old story--the old story which has been repeated from the beginning +of the world,' he cried, stung into life by something of heartlessness +which he detected in her affected sympathy. 'The woman weaves her toils +about the man--gilds his life until there is no brightness which can +compare with it--fills his heart with high hopes of a blissful +future--so changes his soul that he can cherish no thought but of +her--so alters the whole tenor and purpose of his existence that he even +welcomes slavery as a precious boon because it brings him under the same +roof with her. And then--some other fancy having crossed her mind--or an +absence of a week or two having produced forgetfulness--she insults him +with a cruel mockery of self-unworthiness as her sole apology for +perfidy.' + +'Nay,' she exclaimed, half glad of an excuse to quarrel with him. 'If +you would rather have it otherwise, think, then, that I have never loved +you as I should, even though I may have imagined that I did.' + +'Go on,' he said, seeing that she hesitated. + +'I know,' she continued, 'that in other days you have had my words for +it, uttered, indeed, in sympathy and truth, as I then felt them. But I +was a simple girl, then, Cleotos. The sea before me and the mountains +behind bounded all my knowledge of the world. The people whom I saw were +but few. The tastes I had were simple. Is it wonderful that I should +have listened to the first one who spoke to me of love, and should have +imagined that my heart made response to him? But now, now, Cleotos--' + +'Now, what?' he exclaimed. 'Would you say that now you have seen the +world better and think differently? What is there in all that you have +since known that should change you? Is it that the sight of war and +tumult--of burning towns and bleeding captives--of insolent soldiers and +cruel taskmasters can have made you less in favor with our own native, +vine-covered retreat, with its neighborhood of simple peasantry? Or +would you say that since then you have met others whom you can love +better than me? Whom, indeed, have you seen but weary prisoners like +myself, or else unpitying conquerors whose love would be your shame? You +blush, Leta! Pray the gods that it be not the latter! Struggle sternly +with yourself to realize that you are merely for the moment fascinated +by the unaccustomed splendors of this swarming city; and that after its +first brightness has worn off from your dazzled eyes, your soul may +return to its native, pure simplicity and innocence, and--and to me.' + +'Speak not so, Cleotos,' she responded. 'My eyes are not dazzled with +any splendors; but for all that, our ways now and forever lie in +different directions. We are slaves, and can give little heed to our +affections. Our only course must be for each to strive to rise above +this serfdom; and if, in doing so, either can help the other, it must +be done--but in friendship, not in love. To you, through good conduct, +there may open, even in slavery, many posts of influence and profit; +and, in so much, of better worth than our own boasted liberty with +poverty. And as for me--I see my destiny already beckoning me to a +position such as many a free Roman woman might envy.' + +Speaking thus obscurely of her anticipated grandeur--to be gained, +perhaps, by abasement, but none the less in her mind certain to end in +such legitimate position as might sanctify the previous steps +thereto--her face again lit up with a glow of pride, as though she were +already the powerful patrician's wife. And revelling in such dreams, she +saw not the agony which overspread her listener's face as he read her +thoughts partly awrong, and believed her content to throw herself away +forever, in order to gain some temporary exaltation as a wealthy Roman's +plaything. + +'And when that day does come,' she continued, 'if, for the memory of our +old friendship, I can help to elevate you to some better sphere--' + +'Enough! No more!' he cried bitterly; and starting from her, he fled out +of the room. It were hard enough that he should lose her, harder yet +that he should hear her marking out for herself a life of ruin for some +temporary gain, but harder than all, that she should dare to mistake his +nature so far as to insult him with the promise of aiding his prosperity +through such an influence. + +'Let me go hence!' he cried, in his agony, to AEnone, who, still radiant +with her newly discovered hope, met him at the door. 'Send me to the +captain Polidorus--anywhere--only let me leave this house!' + + + + +AMERICAN SLAVERY AND FINANCES. + +By Hon. Robert J. Walker. + + + [The following article, from the pen of Hon. R. J. Walker, forms + the APPENDIX to the volume just published in England, and + now exciting great attention there, containing the various + pamphlets issued by him during the last six months. The subjects + discussed embrace Jefferson Davis and Repudiation, Recognition, + Slavery, Finances and Resources of the United States. It would be + difficult to overestimate the effect of these Letters abroad. As + our readers already possess them in the pages of THE + CONTINENTAL, we enable them to complete the series by + furnishing the ensuing Appendix. It closes with an extract from an + 'Introductory Address' delivered by Mr. Walker before the National + Institute, at Washington, D. C., giving a short account of the + various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen in the + Inductive Sciences. As showing to England what a high rank we had + even then taken in the world of science, and pointing out to her + the number and fame of our savants, it will be read with just pride + and interest. As the Address was delivered in 1844, it of course + contains no details of our marvellous progress since that date in + science and discovery.--ED. CONTINENTAL.] + +We have seen by the Census Tables, if the product _per capita_ of the +Slave States in 1859 had been equal to that of the Free States for that +year, that the ADDITIONAL value produced in 1859 in the Slave +States would have been $1,531,631,000. Now as our population augmented +during that decade 35.59 per cent., this _increased_ value, at that +ratio, in 1869 would have been $2,052,332,272. If multiplying the amount +_each year_ by three only, instead of 3-559/1000 the result, during that +decade, would have been as follows: + + Product of 1860, $1,559,039,962 + " 1861, 1,605,811,060 + " 1862, 1,654,085,391 + " 1863, 1,703,707,952 + " 1864, 1,754,819,198 + " 1865, 1,807,464,773 + " 1866, 1,861,688,716 + " 1867, 1,917,539,377 + " 1868, 1,975,065,558 + " 1869, 2,034,317,524 + ------------- + Total augmented + product of the $17,873,539,511 + decade + +That is, the total _increased_ product of the Slave States, during the +decade from 1859 to 1869, would have been $17,873,539,511, if the +production in the Slave States had been equal, _per capita_, to that of +the Free States. This, it will be remembered, is gross product. This, it +will be perceived, is far below the actual result, as we can see by +comparing the real product of 1869, $2,052,332,272, as before given, +with the $2,034,317,524, as the result of a multiplication by three each +year. + +The ratio of the increase of our _wealth_, from 1850 to 1860, as shown +by the census, was much greater than that of our population--namely, +126.45 per cent. Multiplying by this ratio (126.45), the result would be +an _additional_ product in 1860, in the Slave States, of $3,427,619,475. +But our wealth increases in an augmented ratio during each decade. + +Thus, the ratio of the increase of our wealth, as shown by the census, +was as follows: + + From 1820 to 1830, 41 per cent. + " 1830 to 1840, 42 " + " 1840 to 1850, 64 " + " 1850 to 1860, 126.45 " + +Thus, the increase of our wealth from 1840 to 1850, was more than 50 per +cent. greater than from 1830 to 1840; and from 1850 to 1860, nearly +double that from 1840 to 1850. At the same duplicate ratio, from 1850 to +1870, the result would be over 250 per cent. That such would have been a +close approximation to the true result, is rendered still more probable +by the fact, that the product of 1859, as shown by the census, was 250 +per cent. greater than that of 1849. + +If, then, instead of 126.45 per cent., we were to assume 250 per cent. +as the ratio, the result would be in 1869, $5,297,708,612, as the +_increased_ product of the Slave States that year, if the ratio _per +capita_ were equal to that of the Free States. If we carry out these +ratios from 1859 to 1869, either of 126.45, or of 250, into the +aggregate of the decade, the results are startling. Assuming, however, +that of the population only, we have seen that the aggregate result in +the decade from 1859 to 1869 was over seventeen billions of dollars, or +largely more than ten times our debt incurred by this rebellion. + +When, then, I reassert the opinion, heretofore expressed by me, that as +the result of the superiority of free over slave labor, our wealth in +1870, and especially in each succeeding decade, as a consequence of the +entire abolition of Slavery in the United States, will be far greater, +notwithstanding the debt, than if the rebellion had never occurred, +there is here presented conclusive official proof of the truth of this +statement. We have seen that our wealth increased from 1850 to 1860, +126.45 per cent., whilst that of England, from 1851 to 1861, augmented +only at the rate of 37 per cent. + +Applying these several ratios to the progress of the wealth of the +United Kingdom and the United States, respectively, in 1870, 1880, 1890, +and 1900, the result is given below. + +We have seen by the census, that our national wealth was, in + + 1850, $7,135,780,228 + 1860, 16,159,616,068 + +Increase from 1850 to 1860, 126.45 per cent. + +England, from 1851 to 1861, 37 per cent. + +Assuming these ratios, the result would be as follows: + + UNITED KINGDOM. + + 1861, wealth, $31,500,000,000 + 1871, " 48,155,000,000 + 1881, " 59,122,350,000 + 1891, " 80,997,619,500 + 1901, " 110,966,837,715 + + + UNITED STATES. + + 1860, wealth, $16,159,616,068 + 1870, " 36,593,450,585 + 1880, " 82,865,868,849 + 1890, " 187,314,353,225 + 1900, " 423,330,438,288 + +Thus, it appears by the census of each nation, that, each increasing in +the same ratio respectively as for the last decade, the wealth of the +United States in 1880 would exceed that of the United Kingdom +$23,743,518,849; that in 1890 it would be much more than double, and in +1900, approaching quadruple that of the United Kingdom. + +When we reflect that England increases in wealth much more rapidly than +any other country of Europe, the value of these statistics may be +estimated, as proving how readily our national debt can be extinguished +without oppressive taxation. + +These are the results, founded on the actual statistics, without +estimating the enormous increase of our national wealth, arising from +the abolition of Slavery. We have seen that, by the official tables of +the census of 1860, the value of the _products_ of the United States, so +far as given, for the year 1859, was $5,290,000,000. But this is very +short of the actual result. The official report (pages 59, 190, 198 to +210) shows that this included _only_ the products of 'agriculture, +manufactures, mines, and fisheries.' In referring to the result as to +'_manufactures_,' at page 59 of his official report before given, the +Superintendent says: 'If to this amount were added the very large +aggregate of mechanical productions below the annual value of $500, of +which no official cognizance is taken, the result would be one of +_startling magnitude_.' + +1. This omission alone, for gross product, is estimated at $500,000,000. + +2. Milk and eggs, fodder, wood, poultry, and feathers, omitted, gross +products, estimated at $350,000,000. + +3. Gross earnings of trade and commerce, including freights, &c., by +land and water, $1,000,000,000. + +4. Gross earnings of all other pursuits and business, including all +other omissions, $1,000,000,000. + +Total gross products of 1860, as thus estimated, $8,140,000,000, of +which the amount for the Free States, as estimated, is $6,558,334,000, +and for the Slave States, $1,581,666,000. + +I have heretofore referred to the vast influence of _education_ as one +of the principal causes of the greater product _per capita_ in the Free +than in the Slave States, of the much larger number of patents, of +inventions, and discoveries, in the former than in the latter. + +At the April meeting of 1844, upon the request of the Society, I +delivered at Washington (D. C.) the Introductory Address for the +National Institute, in which, up to that date, an account was given by +me of 'the various improvements and discoveries made by our countrymen +in the inductive sciences.' On reference to that address, which was +published at its date (April, 1844), with their _bulletin_, it will be +seen that, from the great Franklin down to Kinnersley, Fitch, Rumsey, +Fulton, Evans, Rush, the Stevenses of New Jersey, Whitney, Godfrey, +Rittenhouse, Silliman, J. Q. Adams, Cleveland, Adrain, Bowditch, Hare, +Bache, Henry, Pierce, Espy, Patterson, Nulty, Morse, Walker, Loomis, +Rogers, Saxton, and many others; these men, with scarcely an exception, +were from the Free States. + + +EXTRACT. + +And, first, of electricity. This has been cultivated with the greatest +success in our country, from the time when Franklin with his kite drew +down electricity from the thunder cloud, to that when Henry showed the +electrical currents produced by the distant lightning discharge. In +Franklin's day the idea prevailed that there were two kinds of +electricity, one produced by rubbing vitreous substances, the other by +the friction of resinous bodies. Franklin's theory of one electric fluid +in all bodies, disturbed in its equilibrium by friction, and thus +accumulating in one and deserting the other, maintains its ground, still +capable of explaining the facts elicited in the progress of modern +discovery. Franklin believed that electricity and lightning were the +same, and proceeded to the proof. He made the perilous experiment, by +exploring the air with a kite, and drawing down from the thunder cloud +the lightning's discharge upon his own person. The bold philosopher +received unharmed the shock of the electric fluid, more fortunate than +others who have fallen victims to less daring experiments. The world was +delighted with the discoveries of the great American, and for a time +electricity was called Franklinism on the continent of Europe; but +Franklin was born here, and the name was not adopted in England. While +Franklin made experiments, Kinnersley exhibited and illustrated them, +and also rediscovered the seemingly opposite electricities of glass and +resin. Franklin's lightning rod is gradually surmounting the many +difficulties with which it contended, as experience attests the greater +safety of houses protected by the rod, properly mounted, whilst the +British attempt to substitute balls for points has failed. This +question, as to powder magazines, has lately excited much controversy. +Should a rod be attached to the magazine, or should it be placed upon a +post at some distance? This question has been solved by Henry. When an +electrical discharge passes from one body to another, the electricity in +all the bodies in the neighborhood is affected. Henry magnetized a +needle in a long conductor, by the discharge from a cloud, more than a +mile from the conductor. If a discharge passes down a rod, attached to a +powder house, may it not cause a spark to pass from one receptacle for +powder to another, and thus inflame the whole? The electrical plenum, +which Henry supposed, is no doubt disturbed, and to great distances; but +the effect diminishes with the distance. If all the principal conductors +about a building can be connected with a lightning rod, there is no +danger of a discharge; for it is only in leaving or entering a conductor +that electricity produces heating effects; but if not, the rod is safer +at a moderate distance from the building. The rate at which electricity +moved was another of the experiments of Franklin. A wire was led over a +great extent of ground, and a discharge passed through it. No interval +could be perceived between the time of the spark passing to and from the +wire at the two ends. Not long since, Wheatston of England, aided by our +own great mechanic, Saxton, solved the problem. This has induced Arago, +of France, to propose to test the rival theories of light, by similar +means--to measure thus a velocity, to detect which has heretofore +required a motion over the line of the diameter of the earth's orbit. + +In galvanism, our countrymen have made many important discoveries. Dr. +Hare invented instruments of such great power as well to deserve the +names of calorimeter and deflagrator. The most refractory substances +yielded to the action of the deflagrator, melting like wax before a +common fire. Even charcoal was supposed to be fused in the experiments +of Hare and Silliman, and the visionary speculated on the possibility of +black as well as white diamonds. Draper, by his most ingenious galvanic +battery, of two metals and two liquids, with one set of elements, in a +glass tube not the size of the little finger, was able to decompose +water. Faraday, of England, discovered the principle, that when a +current of electricity is set in motion, or stopped in a conductor, a +neighboring conductor has a current produced in the opposite direction. +Henry proved that this principle might be made available to produce an +action of a current upon itself, by forming a conductor in the whirls of +a spiral, so that sparks and shocks might be obtained by the use of such +spirals, when connected with a pair of galvanic plates, a current from +which could give no sparks and no shocks. Henry's discoveries of the +effects of a current in producing several alternations in currents in +neighboring conductors--the change of the quality of electricity which +gives shocks to the muscles into that producing heat, and _vice +versa_--his mode of graduating these shocks--his theoretical +investigations into the causes of these alternations--are abstruse, but +admirable; and his papers have been republished throughout Europe. The +heating effects of a galvanic current have been applied by Dr. Hare to +blasting. The accidents which so often happen in quarries may be avoided +by firing the charge from a distance, as the current which heats the +wire, passing through the charge, may be conveyed, without perceptible +diminution, through long distances. A feeble attempt to attribute this +important invention of Dr. Hare to Colonel Pasley, an English engineer, +has been abandoned. This is the marvellous agent by which our eminent +countryman, Morse, encouraged by an appropriation made by Congress, +will, by means of his electric telegraph, soon communicate information +forty miles, from Washington to Baltimore, more rapidly than by +whispering in the ear of a friend sitting near us. A telegraph on a new +plan at that time, invented by Mr. Grout, of Massachusetts, in 1799, +asked a question and received an answer in less than ten minutes through +a distance of ninety miles. The telegraph of Mr. Morse will prove, I +think, superior to all others; and the day is not distant when, by its +aid, we may perhaps ask questions and receive replies across our +continent, from _ocean to ocean_, thus uniting with steam in enlarging +the limits over which our Republic may be safely extended.[2] + +Many of our countrymen have contributed to the branch which regards the +action of electrified and magnetic bodies. Lukens's application of +magnetism to steel (called _touching_), the compass of Bissel for +detecting local attraction, of Burt for determining the variation of the +compass, and the observations on the variations of the needle made by +Winthrop and Dewitt, deserve notice and commendation. Not long since, +Gauss, of Germany, invented instruments by which the changes of magnetic +variation and force could be accurately determined. Magnetic action is +ever varying. The needle does not point in the same direction for even a +few minutes together. The force of magnetism, also, perpetually varies. +'True as the needle to the pole' is not a correct simile for the same +place, and, if we pass from one spot to another, is falsified at each +change of our position; for the needle changes its direction, and the +force varies. Enlarged and united observations, embracing the various +portions of the world, must produce important results. The observations +at Philadelphia, conducted by Dr. A. D. Bache, and now continued by him +under the direction of the Topographical Bureau, are of great value, and +will, it is hoped, be published by Congress. Part of them have already +first seen the light in Europe--a result much to be regretted, for we +are not strong enough in science to spare from the national records the +contributions of our countrymen. + +These combined observations, progressing throughout the world, are of +the highest importance. The University of Cambridge, the American +Philosophical Society, and Girard College have erected observatories; +and one connected with the Depot of Charts and Instruments has been +built in this city last year by the Government, and thoroughly furnished +with instruments for complete observations. The names of Bache, Gillis, +Pierce, Lovering, and Bond are well known in connection with these +establishments. + +A magnetic survey of Pennsylvania has been made by private enterprise, +and the beginning of a survey in New York. Loomis has observed in Ohio, +Locke in Ohio and Iowa, and to him belongs the discovery of the position +of the point of greatest magnetic intensity in the Western World. Most +interesting magnetic observations (now in progress of publication by +Congress) are the result of the toilsome, perilous, and successful +expedition, under Commander Wilkes, of our navy, by whom was discovered +the Antarctic continent, and a portion of its soil and rock brought home +to our country. + +The analogy of the auroral displays with those of electricity in motion, +was first pointed out by Dr. A. D. Bache, whose researches, in +conjunction with Lloyd of Dublin, to determine whether differences of +longitude could be measured by the observations of small simultaneous +changes in the position of the magnetic needle, led to the knowledge of +the curious fact, that these changes, which had been traced as +simultaneous, or nearly so, in the continent of Europe, did not so +extend across the Atlantic. + +Kindred to these two branches are electro-magnetism and +magneto-electricity, connected with which, as discoverers, are our +countrymen Dana, Green, Hare, Henry, Page, Rogers, and Saxton. The +reciprocal machine for producing shocks, invented by Page, and the +powerful galvanic magnet of Henry, are entitled to respectful notice. +This force, it was thought, might be substituted for steam; but no +experiments have as yet established its use, on any important scale, as +a motive power. The fact that an electrical spark could be produced by a +peculiar arrangement of a coil of wire, connected with a magnet, is a +recent discovery; and the first magneto-electric machine capable of +keeping up a continuous current was invented by Saxton. + +Electricity and magnetism touch in some points upon heat. Heat produces +electrical currents; electrical currents produce heat. Heat destroys +magnetism. Melted iron is incapable of magnetic influence. Reduction of +temperature in iron so far decreases the force, that a celebrated +philosopher made an elaborate series of experiments to ascertain whether +a great reduction of temperature might not develop magnetic properties +in metals other than iron. This branch of thermo-electricity has +received from us but little attention. Franklin's experiments, by +placing differently colored cloths in the snow, and showing the depth to +which they sank, are still quoted, and great praise has been bestowed +abroad on a more elaborate series of experiments, by a descendant of +his, Dr. A. D. Bache, proving that this law does not hold good as to +heat, unaccompanied by light. The experiments of Saxon and Goddard +demonstrate that solid bodies do slowly evaporate. It is proper here to +mention our countryman, Count Rumford, whose discoveries as to the +nature and properties of heat, improvement in stoves and gunnery, and in +the structure of chimneys and economy of fuel, have been so great and +useful. + +Light accompanies heat of a certain temperature. That it acts directly +to increase or decrease magnetic force, is not yet proved; and the +interesting experiments made by Dr. Draper, in Virginia, go to show that +it is without magnetic influence. The discussion of this subject forms, +the branch of optics, touching physical science on the one side, the +most refined, and the highest range of mathematics on the other. +Rittenhouse first suggested the true explanation of the experiment, of +the apparent conversion of a cameo into an intaglio, when viewed through +a compound microscope, and anticipated many years Brewster's theory. +Hopkinson wrote well on the experiment made by looking at a street lamp +through a slight texture of silk. Joscelyn, of New York, investigated +the causes of the irradiation manifested by luminous bodies, as for +instance the stars. Of late, photographic experiments have occupied much +attention, and Draper has advanced the bold idea, supported by +experiment, that the agent in the so-called photography, is not light, +nor heat, but an agent differing from any other known principle. Henry +has investigated the luminous emanation from lime, calcined with +sulphur, and certain other substances, and finds that it differs much +from light in some of its qualities. + +Astronomy is the most ancient and highest branch of physics. One of our +earliest and greatest efforts in this branch was the invention of the +mariner's quadrant, by Godfrey, a glazier of Philadelphia. The transit +of Venus, in the last century, called forth the researches of +Rittenhouse, Owen, Biddle, and President Smith, near Philadelphia, and +of Winthrop, at Boston. Two orreries were made by Rittenhouse, as also a +machine for predicting eclipses. Most useful observations, connected +with the solar eclipses, from 1832 to 1840, have been made by Paine, of +Boston. We have now well-supplied observatories at West Point, +Washington, Cambridge, Philadelphia, Hudson, Ohio, and Tuskaloosa, +Alabama; and the valuable labors of Loomis, Bartlett, Gillis, Bond, +Pierce, Walker, and Kendall are well known. Mr. Adams, so distinguished +in this branch and that of weights and measures, laid last year the +corner stone of an observatory at Cincinnati, where will soon be one of +the largest and most powerful telescopes in the world. Most interesting +observations as to the great comet of 1843 were made by Alexander, +Anderson, Bartlett, Kendall, Pierce, Walker, Downes, and Loomis, and +valuable astronomical instruments have been constructed by Amasa +Holcomb, of Massachusetts, and Wm. J. Young, of Philadelphia. + +It is difficult to class the brilliant meteors of November the 13th, +1833. If such meteors are periodic, the discovery was made by Professor +Olmsted; and Mr. Herrick, of New Haven, has added valuable suggestions. +The idea that observers, differently placed at the time of appearance +and disappearance of the same meteor, would give the means of +determining differences of longitude, was first applied in our own +country, where the difference of longitude of Princeton and Philadelphia +was determined by observations of Henry and Alexander, Espy and Bache. +In meteorology our countrymen have succeeded well. Dr. Wells, of South +Carolina, elaborated his beautiful and original theory of the formation +of dew, and supported it by many well-devised and conclusive +experiments. The series of hourly observations, by Professor Snell and +Captain Mordecai, are well known; and the efforts of New York and +Pennsylvania, of the medical department of the army, and its present +enlightened head, Dr. Lawson, have much advanced this branch of science. +The interesting question, Does our climate change? seems to be answered +thus far in the negative, by registers kept in Massachusetts and New +York. There are two rival theories of storms. That of Redfield, of a +rotary motion of a wide column of air, combined with a progressive +motion in a curved line. Espy builds on the law of physics, examines the +action of an upmoving column of air, shows the causes of its motion and +the results, and then deduces his most beautiful theory of rain and of +land and water spouts. This he puts to the test of observation; and in +the inward motion of wind toward the centre of storms, finds a striking +verification of his theory. This theory is also sustained by the +overthrow or injury, in the recent tornado at Natchez, of the houses +whose doors and windows were closed, while those which were open mostly +escaped unhurt. Mr. Espy must be considered, not only here, but +throughout the world, as at the head of this branch of science. This +subject has been greatly advanced by Professor Loomis, whose paper has +been pronounced, by the highest authority, to be the best specimen of +inductive reasoning which meteorology has produced. The most recent and +highly valuable meteorological works of Dr. Samuel Forry are much +esteemed. Many important discoveries in pneumatics were made by Dr. +Franklin and Count Rumford, and the air pump was also greatly improved +by Dr. Prince, of Salem. + +Chemistry, in all its departments, has been successfully pursued among +us. Dana, Draper, Ellet, Emmet, Hare, the Mitchells, Silliman, and +Torrey, are well known as chemical philosophers; and Booth, Boye, +Chilton, Keating, Mather, R. Rogers, Seybert, Shepherd, and Vanuxen, as +_analysts_; and F. Bache, Webster, Greene, Mitchell, Silliman, and Hare, +as authors. In my native town of Northumberland, Pennsylvania, resided +two adopted citizens, most eminent as chemists and philosophers, +Priestley and Cooper. The latter, who was one of my own preceptors, was +greatly distinguished as a writer, scholar, jurist, and physician, as +well as a chemist. Priestley, although I do not concur in his peculiar +views of theology, was certainly one of the most able and learned of +ecclesiastical writers, and possessed also a mind most vigorous and +original. His discoveries in pneumatic chemistry have exceeded those of +any other philosopher. He discovered vital air, many new acids, chemical +substances, paints, and dyes. He separated nitrous and oxygenous airs, +and first exhibited acids and alkalies in a gaseous form. He ascertained +that air could be purified by the process of vegetation, and that light +evolved pure air from vegetables. He detected the powerful action of +oxygenous air upon the blood, and first pointed out the true theory of +respiration. The eudiometer, a most curious instrument for fixing the +purity of air, by measuring the proportion of oxygen, was discovered by +Dr. Priestley. He lived and died in my native town, universally beloved +as a man, and greatly admired as a philosopher. Chemistry has actively +advanced among us during the present century. Hare's compound blowpipe +came from his hand so perfect, in 1802, that all succeeding attempts of +Dr. Clark, of England, and of all others, in Europe and America, to +improve upon it or go beyond the effects produced, have wholly failed. +His mode of mixing oxygen and hydrogen gases, the instant before burning +them, was at once simple, effective, and safe. The most refractory +metallic and mineral substances yielded to the intense heat produced by +the flame of the blowpipe. In chemical analysis, the useful labors of +Keating, Vanuxen, Seybert, Booth, Clemson, Litton, and Moss, would fill +many volumes. In organic chemistry, the researches of Clark, Hare, and +Boye were rewarded by the discovery of a new ether, the most explosive +compound known to man. Mitchell's experiments on the penetration of +membranes by gases, and the ingenious extension of them by Dr. Rogers, +are worthy of all praise. The softening of indiarubber, by Dr. Mitchell, +renders it a most useful article. Dyer's discovery of soda ash yielded +him a competence. Our countrymen have also made most valuable +improvements in refining sugar, in the manufacture of lard oil and +stearin candles, and the preservation of timber by Earle's process. +Sugar and molasses have been extracted in our country from the +cornstalk, but with what, if any profit, as to either, is not yet +determined. No part of mechanics has produced such surprising results as +the steam engine, and our countrymen have been among the foremost and +most distinguished in this great and progressive branch. When Rumsey, of +Pennsylvania, made a steamboat, which moved against the current of the +James River four miles an hour, his achievement was so much in advance +of the age, as to acquire no public confidence. When John Fitch's boat +stemmed the current of the Delaware, contending successfully with sail +boats, it was called, in derision, the _scheme boat_. So the New +Yorkers, when the steamboat of their own truly great mechanic, Stevens, +after making a trip from Hoboken, burnt accidentally one of its boiler +tubes, it was proclaimed a failure. Fulton also encountered unbounded +ridicule and opposition, as he advanced to confer the greatest benefits +on mankind by the application of steam to navigation. So Oliver Evans, +of Pennsylvania (who has made such useful improvements in the flour +mill), was pronounced insane, when he applied to the Legislatures of +Pennsylvania and Maryland for special privileges in regard to the +application of steam to locomotion on common roads. In 1810 he was +escorted by a mob of boys, when his amphibolas was moved on wheels by +steam more than a mile through the streets of Philadelphia to the river +Schuylkill, and there, taking to the water, was paddled by steam to the +wharves of the Delaware, where it was to work as a dredging machine. +Fulton's was the first successful steamboat, Stevens's the first that +navigated the ocean, Oliver Evans's the first high-pressure engine +applied to steam navigation. Stevens's boat, by an accident, did not +precede Fulton's, and Stevens's engine was wholly American, and +constructed entirely by himself, and his propeller resembled much that +now introduced by Ericsson. Stevens united the highest mechanical skill +with a bold, original, inventive genius. His sons (especially Mr. Robert +L. Stevens, of New York) have inherited much of the extraordinary skill +and talent of their distinguished father. The first steamboat that ever +crossed the ocean was built by one of our countrymen, and their skill in +naval architecture has been put in requisition by the Emperor of Russia +and the Sultan of Turkey. The steam machines invented by our countrymen +to drive piles, load vessels, and excavate roads, are most ingenious and +useful. The use of steam, as a locomotive power, upon the water and the +land, is admirably adapted to our mighty rivers and extended territory. +From Washington to the mouth of the Oregon is but one half,[3] and to +the mouth of the Del Norte but one fourth, of the distance of the +railroads already constructed here; and to the latter point, at the rate +of motion (thirty miles an hour) now in daily use abroad, the trip would +be performed in two days, and to the former in four days. Thus, steam, +if we measure distance by the time in which it is traversed, renders our +whole Union, with its most extended limits, smaller than was the State +of New York ten years since. Steam cars have been moved, as an +experiment, both here and abroad, many hundred miles, at the rate of +sixty miles an hour; but what will be the highest velocity ultimately +attained in common use, either upon the water or the land, is a most +important problem, as yet entirely unsolved. Our respected citizens, +Morey and Drake, have endeavored to substitute the force of explosion of +gaseous compounds for steam. The first was the pioneer, and the second +has shown that the problem is still worth pursuing to solution. An +energetic Western mechanic made a bold but unsuccessful effort to put in +operation an engine acting by the expansion of air by heat; and a +similar most ingenious attempt was made by Mr. Walter Byrnes, of +Concordia, Louisiana; as also to substitute compressed air, and air +compressed and expanded, as a locomotive power. All attempts to use air +as a motive power, except the balloon, the sail vessel, the air gun, and +the windmill, have thus far failed; but what inventive genius may yet +accomplish in this respect, remains yet undetermined. There is, it is +true, a mile or more of pneumatic railway used between Dublin and +Kingstown. An air pump, driven by steam, exhausts the air from a +cylinder in which a piston moves; this cylinder is laid the whole length +of the road, and the piston is connected to a car above, so that, as the +piston moves forward on the exhaustion of the air in front of it, the +car is also carried forward. The original idea of this pneumatic railway +was derived from the contrivance of an American, quite unknown to fame, +who, as his sign expressed it, showed to visitors a new mode of carrying +the mail,[4] more simple, and quite as valuable, practically, as this +atmospheric railway. The submerged propeller of Ericsson, and the +submerged paddle wheel, the rival experiments of our two distinguished +naval officers, Stockton and Hunter, are now candidates for public +favor; and the Princeton on the ocean, as she moves in noiseless +majesty, at a speed never before attained at sea, seems to attest the +value of one of these experiments, while the other is yet to be +determined. The impenetrable iron steam vessel of Mr. Stevens is not yet +completed, nor have those terrific engines of war, his explosive shells, +yet been brought to the test of actual conflict. + +In curious and useful mechanical inventions, our countrymen are +unsurpassed, and a visit to our new and beautiful Patent Office will +convince the close observer that the inventive genius of America never +was more active than at the present moment. The machines for working up +cotton, hemp, and wool, from their most crude state to the finest and +most useful fabrics, have all been improved among us. The cotton gin of +Eli Whitney has altered the destinies of one third of our country, and +doubled the exports of the Union. The ingenious improvements for +imitating medals, by parallel lines upon a plain surface, which, by the +distances between them, give all the effects of light and shade that +belong to a raised or depressed surface, invented by Gobrecht and +perfected by Spencer, has been rendered entirely automatic by Saxton, so +that it not only rules its lines at proper distances and of suitable +lengths, but when its work is done it stops. In hydraulics, we have +succeeded well; and the great aqueduct over the Potomac at Georgetown, +constructed by Major Turnbull, of the Topographical Corps, exhibits new +contrivances, in overcoming obstacles never heretofore encountered in +similar projects, and has been pronounced in Europe one of the most +skilful works of the age. + +The abstract mathematics does not seem so well suited to the genius of +our countrymen as its application to other sciences. Those among us who +have most successfully pursued the pure mathematics, are chiefly our +much-esteemed adopted citizens, such as Nulty, Adrain, Bonnycastle, +Gill, and Hassler. Bowditch was an American, and is highly distinguished +at home and abroad. Such men as Plana and Babbage rank him among the +first class, and his commentary on the 'Mecanique Celeste' of Laplace, +has secured for him a niche in the temple of fame, near to that of its +illustrious author. Anderson and Strong are known to all who love +mathematics, and Fischer was cut off by death in the commencement of a +bright career. And may I here be indulged in grateful remembrance of two +of my own preceptors, Dr. R. M. Patterson and Eugene Nulty. The first +was the professor at my Alma Mater (the University of Pennsylvania) in +natural philosophy and the application of mathematics to many branches +of science. He was beloved and respected by all the class, as the +courteous gentleman and the profound scholar; and the Mint of the United +States, now under his direction, at Philadelphia, has reached the +highest point of system, skill, and efficiency. In the pure mathematics +Nulty is unsurpassed at home or abroad. In an earlier day, the elder +Patterson, Ellicot, and Mansfield cultivated this branch successfully in +connection with astronomy. + +A new and extensive country is the great field for descriptive natural +history. The beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, insects, shells, plants, +stones, and rocks are to be examined individually and classed; many new +varieties and species are found, and even new genera may occur. The +learned Mitchell, of New York, delighted in these branches. The eminent +Harlan, of Philadelphia, and McMultrie were of a later and more +philosophic school. Nuttall, of Cambridge, has distinguished himself in +natural history, and Haldeman is rising to eminence. + +Ornithology is one of the most attractive branches of natural history. +Wilson was the pioneer; Ord, his biographer, followed, and his friend +Titian Peale; Audubon is universally known, and stands preeminent; and +the learned Nuttall and excellent and enthusiastic Townsend are much +respected. Most of these men have compassed sea and land, and +encountered many perils and hardships to find their specimens. They have +explored the mountains of the North, the swamps of Florida, the prairies +of the West, and accompanied the Exploring Expedition to the Antarctic, +and round the world. As botanists, the Bartrams, Barton, and Collins, of +Philadelphia, Torrey, of New York, Gray and Nuttall of Cambridge, +Darlington, of Westchester, are much esteemed. The first botanical +garden in our country was that of the Bartons, near Philadelphia; and +the first work on botany was from Barton, of the same city. Logan, +Woodward, Brailsford, Shelby, Cooper, Horsfield, Colden, Clayton, +Muhlenburg, Marshall, Cutler, and Hosack, were also distinguished in +this delightful branch. + +A study of the shells of our country has raised to eminence the names of +Barnes, Conrad, Lea, and Raffinesque. The magnificent fresh-water shells +of our Western rivers are unrivalled in the Old World in size and +beauty. How interesting would be a collection of all the specimens which +the organic kingdom of America presents, properly classified and +arranged according to the regions and States whence they were brought! +Paris has the museum of the natural history of France, and London of +Great Britain; but Washington has no museum[5] of the United States, +though so much richer in all these specimens. + +In mineralogy, the work of Cleveland is most distinguished. Shepherd, +Mather, Troost, Torrey, and a few others, still pursue mineralogy for +its own sake; but, generally, our mineralogists have turned geologists, +studying rocks on a large scale, instead of their individual +constituents, and vieing with their brethren in Europe in bold and +successful generalization, and in the application of physical science to +their subject. Maclure was one of the pioneers, and Eaton and Silliman +contributed much to the stock of knowledge. This school has given rise +to the great geological surveys made or progressing in several of the +States. Jackson, in Maine, Hitchcock, in Massachusetts; Vanuxen, Conrad, +and Mather, in New York; the Rogerses, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and +Virginia; Ducatel, in Maryland; Owen and Locke, in the West; Troost, in +Tennessee; Horton, in Ohio; the courageous, scientific, and lamented +Nicolet, in Missouri, Iowa, and Wisconsin, have made contributions, not +only to the geology of our country, but to the science of geology +itself, which are conceded to be among the most valuable of the present +day. The able reports of Owen and Nicolet were made to Congress, and +deserve the highest commendation. + +In geographical science, the explorations of Lewis and Clark; of Long, +Nicolet, and the able and intrepid Fremont; the effective State survey +of Massachusetts; the surveys of our public lands; the determination of +the boundaries of our States, and especially those of Pennsylvania, by +Rittenhouse and Elliott; of part of Louisiana, by Graham and Kearny; of +Michigan, by Talcott; and of Maine, by Graham; have gained us great +credit. The national work of the coast survey, begun by the late Mr. +Hassler, and prosecuted through all discouragements and difficulties by +that indomitable man, has reflected honor upon his adopted country, +through the Government which liberally supported the work, and through +whose aid it is now progressing, under new auspices, with great +energy.[6] The lake survey is also now advancing under the direction of +Captain Williams, of the Topographical Corps. Among the important recent +explorations, is that of the enlightened, untiring, and intrepid +Fremont, to Oregon, which fixes the pass of the Rocky Mountains within +twenty miles of the northern boundary of Texas. Lieutenant Fremont is a +member of the Topographical Corps, which, together with that of +Engineers, contains so many distinguished officers, whose labors, +together with those of their most able and distinguished chiefs, Colonel +Totten and Colonel Abert, fill so large a portion of the public +documents, and are so well known and highly appreciated by both Houses +of Congress and by the country. The Emperor of Russia has entered the +ranks of our Topographical Corps, and employed one of their +distinguished members, Captain Whistler, to construct his great railroad +from St. Petersburg to Moscow. The travels of our countrymen, Stephens, +to Yucatan and Guatemala, to Egypt, Arabia, and Jerusalem, and of Dr. +Grant to Nestoria, have increased our knowledge of geography and of +antiquities, and have added new and striking proofs of the truths of +Christianity. + +Fossil geology occupied much of the time and attention of the great +philosopher and statesman, Jefferson, and he was rewarded by the +discovery of the megatherium. The mastodon, exhumed in 1801, from the +marl pits of New York, by Charles Wilson Peale, has proved but one of an +order of animal giants. Even the tetracaulodon, or tusked mastodon, of +Godman, upon which rested his claims to fame, is not the most curious of +this order, as the investigations of Hayes and Horner have proved. This +order has excited the attention, not only of such minds as Cooper, +Harlan, and Hayes, but has also occupied the best naturalists of France, +Britain, Germany, and Italy. + +Fossil conchology has attracted the attention of Conrad, the Lees, and +the Rogerses, not only calling forth much ingenuity in description and +classification, but also throwing great light upon the relative ages of +some of the most interesting geological formations. The earthquake +theory of the Rogerses is one of the boldest generalizations, founded +upon physical reasoning, which our geologists have produced. In the +parallel ridges into which the Apalachian chain is thrown, they see the +crests of great earthquake waves, propagated from long lines of focal +earthquake action, more violent than any which the world now witnesses. +The geologist deals in such sublime conceptions as a world of molten +matter, tossed into waves by violent efforts of escaping vapors, +cooling, cracking, and rending, in dire convulsion. He then ceases to +discuss the changes and formation of worlds, and condescends to inform +us how to fertilize our soil, where to look for coal and iron, copper, +tin, cobalt, lead, and where we need not look for either. He is the +Milton of poetry, and the Watt of philosophy. And here let me add, that +the recent application of chemistry to agriculture is producing the most +surprising results, in increasing and improving the products of the +earth, and setting at defiance Malthus's theory of population. + +In medicine, that great and most useful branch of physics, our +countrymen have been most distinguished. From the days of the great +philosopher, physician, patriot, and statesman, Benjamin Rush, down to +the present period, our country has been unsurpassed in this branch; but +I have not time even to give an outline of the eminent Americans, whose +improvements and discoveries in medicine have contributed so much to +elevate the character of our country, and advance the comfort and +happiness of man. Rush, one of the founders of this branch in America, +was one of the signers of our Declaration of Independence, and his +school of medicine was as independent and national as his course in our +Revolutionary struggle. Statistics are chiefly concerned, as furnishing +the facts connected with government and political economy, but they are +also ancillary to physics. The statistical work of Mr. Archibald +Russell, of New York, which immediately preceded the last census, +contained many valuable suggestions, some of which were adopted by +Congress; and had more been incorporated into the law, the census would +have been much more complete and satisfactory. The recent statistical +work of Mr. George Tucker, of Virginia, on the census of 1840, is +distinguished by great talent and research, and is invaluable to the +scholar, the philosopher, the statesman, and philanthropist. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 2: This address was made and published several months before +any electric telegraph line was in operation, and is believed to +be the first prediction of the success of this principle, as +CONTINENTAL or OCEANIC.] + +[Footnote 3: Now only one tenth.] + +[Footnote 4: This Idea unquestionably originated in the United States, +but was improved last year, and has been introduced by Mr. Rammel, of +England.] + +[Footnote 5: We now have several such museums in Washington.] + +[Footnote 6: Our Coast Survey, as commenced by Hassler, and being +completed by Bache, is admitted in Europe to be the best in the world.] + + + + +THE CROSS. + + + Holy Father, Thou this day + Dost a cross upon me lay. + If I tremble as I lift, + First, and feel Thine awful gift, + Let me tremble not for pain, + But lest I may lose the gain + Which thereby my soul should bless, + Through mine own unworthiness. + + Let me, drawing deeper breath, + Stand more firmly, lest beneath + Thy load I sink, and slavishly + In the dust it crusheth me. + Bearing this, so may I strength + Gather to receive at length + In turn eternal glory's great + And far more exceeding weight. + + No, I am not crushed. I stand. + But again Thy helping hand + Reach to me, my pitying Sire: + I would bear my burden higher, + Bear it up so near to Thee, + That Thou shouldst bear it still with me. + + He, upon whose careless head + Never any load is laid, + With an earthward eye doth oft + Stoop and lounge too slothfully: + Burdened heads are held aloft + With a nobler dignity. + + By Thine own strong arm still led, + Let me never backward tread, + Panic-driven in base retreat, + The path the Master's steadfast feet + Unswervingly, if bleeding, trod + Unto victory and God. + + The standard-bearer doth not wince, + Who bears the ensigns of his prince, + Through triumphs, in his galled palm, + Or turn aside to look for balm? + Nay, for the glory thrice outweighs + The petty price of pains he pays! + + Till the appointed time is past + Let me clasp Thy token fast. + Ere I lay it down to rest, + Late or early, be impressed + So its stamp upon my soul + That, while all the ages roll, + Questionless, it may be known + The Shepherd marked me for His own; + Because I wear the crimson brand + Of all the flock washed by His hand-- + For my passing pain or loss + Signed with the eternal cross. + + + + +THE ENGLISH PRESS. + + +IV. + +It was in January, 1785, that there appeared, for the first time, a +journal with the title of _The Daily Universal Register_, the proprietor +and printer of which was John Walter, of Printing House Square, a quiet, +little, out-of-the-way nook, nestling under the shadow of St. Paul's, +not known to one man in a thousand of the daily wayfarers at the base of +Wren's mighty monument, but destined to become as famous and as well +known as any spot of ground in historic London. This newspaper boasted +but four pages, and was composed by a new process, with types consisting +of words and syllables instead of single letters. On New Year's day, +1788, its denomination was changed to _The Times_, a name which is +potent all the world over, whithersoever Englishmen convey themselves +and their belongings, and wherever the mighty utterances of the sturdy +Anglo-Saxon tongue are heard. It was long before the infant 'Jupiter' +began to exhibit any foreshadowing of his future greatness, and he had a +very difficult and up-hill struggle to wage. _The Morning Post_, _The +Morning Herald_, _The Morning Chronicle_, and _The General Advertiser_ +amply supplied or seemed to supply the wants of the reading public, and +the new competitor for public favor did not exhibit such superior +ability as to attract any great attention or to diminish the +subscription lists of its rivals. _The Morning Herald_ had been started +in 1780 by Parson Bate, who quarrelled with his colleagues of _The +Post_. This journal, which is now the organ of mild and antiquated +conservatism, was originally started upon liberal principles. Bate +immediately ranged himself upon the side of the Prince of Wales and his +party, and thus his fortunes were secured. In 1781 his paper sustained a +prosecution, and the printer was sentenced to pay a fine of L100, and to +undergo one year's imprisonment, for a libel upon the Russian +ambassador. For this same libel the printers and publishers of _The +London Courant_, _The Noon Gazette_, _The Gazetteer_, _The Whitehall +Evening Journal_, _The St. James's Chronicle_, and _The Middlesex +Journal_ received various sentences of fine and imprisonment, together +with, in some cases, the indignity of the pillory. Prosecutions for +libel abounded in those days. Horace Walpole says that, dating from +Wilkes's famous No. 45, no less than two hundred informations had been +laid, a much larger number than during the whole thirty-three years of +the previous reign. But the great majority of these must have fallen to +the ground, for, in 1791, the then attorney-general stated that, in the +last thirty-one years, there had been seventy prosecutions for libel, +and about fifty convictions, in twelve of which the sentences had been +severe--including even, in five instances, the pillory. The law of libel +was extremely harsh, to say the least of it. One of its dogmas was that +a publisher could be held criminally liable for the acts of his +servants, unless proved to be neither privy nor assenting to such acts. +The monstrous part of this was that, after a time, the judges refused to +receive any exculpatory evidence, and ruled that the publication of a +libel by a publisher's servant was proof sufficient of that publisher's +criminality. This rule actually obtained until 1843, when it was swept +away by an act of Parliament, under the auspices of Lord Campbell. The +second was even worse; for it placed the judge above the jury, and +superseded the action of that dearly prized safeguard of an +Englishman's liberties, it asserting that it was for the judge alone, +and not for the jury, to decide as to the criminality of a libel. Such +startling and outrageous doctrines as these roused the whole country, +and the matter was taken up in Parliament. Fierce debates followed from +time to time, and the assailants of this monstrous overriding of the +Constitution--for it was nothing less--were unremitting in their +efforts. Among the most distinguished of these were Burke, Sheridan, and +Erskine, the last of whom was constantly engaged as counsel for the +defence in the most celebrated libel trials of the day. In 1791, Fox +brought in a bill for amending the law of libel, and so great had the +change become in public opinion, through the agitation that had been +carried on, that it passed unanimously in the House of Commons. Erskine +took a very prominent part in this measure, and, after demonstrating +that the judges had arrogated to themselves the rights and functions of +the jury, said that if, upon a motion in arrest of judgment, the +innocence of the defendant's intention was argued before the court, the +answer would be, and was, given uniformly, that the verdict of guilty +had concluded the criminality of the intention, though the consideration +of that question had been by the judge's authority wholly withdrawn from +the jury at the trial. The bill met with opposition in the House of +Lords, especially from Lord Thurlow, who procured the postponement of +the second reading until the opinion of the judges should have been +ascertained. They, on being appealed to, declared that the criminality +or innocence of any act was the result of the judgment which the law +pronounces upon that act, and must therefore be in all cases and under +all circumstances matter of law, and not matter of fact, and that the +criminality or innocence of letters or papers set forth as overt acts of +treason, was matter of law, and not of fact. These startling assertions +had not much weight with the House of Lords, thanks to the able +arguments of Lord Camden, and the bill passed, with a protest attached +from Lord Thurlow and five others, in which they predicted 'the +confusion and destruction of the law of England.' Of this bill, Macaulay +says: 'Fox and Pitt are fairly entitled to divide the high honor of +having added to our statute book the inestimable law which places the +liberty of the press under the protection of juries.' Intimately +connected with this struggle for the liberty of public opinion was +another mighty engine, which was brought to bear, and that was the +Public Association, with its legitimate offspring, the Public Meeting. +The power and influence which this organization exerted were enormous, +and, though it was often employed in a bad or unworthy cause--such, for +instance, as the Protestant agitation, culminating in Lord George +Gordon's riots in 1780--yet it has been of incalculable advantage to the +progress of the state, the enlightenment of the nation, and the +advancement of civilization, freedom, and truth. Take, for instance, the +Slave-Trade Association, the object and scope of which are thus +admirably described by Erskine May, in his 'Constitutional History of +England': + + 'It was almost beyond the range of politics. It had no + constitutional change to seek, no interest to promote, no prejudice + to gratify, not even the national welfare to advance. Its clients + were a despised race in a distant clime--an inferior type of the + human family--for whom natures of a higher mould felt repugnance + rather than sympathy. Benevolence and Christian charity were its + only incentives. On the other hand, the slave-trade was supported + by some of the most powerful classes in the country--merchants, + shipowners, planters. Before it could be proscribed, vested + interests must be overborne--ignorance enlightened--prejudices and + indifference overcome--public opinion converted. And to this great + work did Granville Sharpe, Wilberforce, Clarkson, and other noble + spirits devote their lives. Never was cause supported by greater + earnestness and activity. The organization of the society + comprehended all classes and religious denominations. Evidence was + collected from every source to lay bare the cruelties and + iniquities of the traffic. Illustration and argument were + inexhaustible. Men of feeling and sensibility appealed with deep + emotion to the religious feelings and benevolence of the people. If + extravagance and bad taste sometimes courted ridicule, the high + purpose, just sentiments, and eloquence of the leaders of the + movement won respect and admiration. Tracts found their way into + every house, pulpits and platforms resounded with the wrongs of the + negro; petitions were multiplied, ministers and Parliament moved to + inquiry and action.... Parliament was soon prevailed upon to + attempt the mitigation of the worst evils which had been brought to + light, and in little more than twenty years the slave trade was + utterly condemned and prohibited.' + +And this magnificent result sprang from a Public Association. In this, +the most noble crusade that has ever been undertaken by man, the +newspapers bore a conspicuous part, and though, as might be expected, +they did not all take the same views, yet they rendered good service to +the glorious cause. But this tempting subject has carried us away into a +rather lengthy digression from our immediate topic. To return, +therefore: + +In 1786 there was a memorable action for libel brought by Pitt against +_The Morning Herald_ and _The Morning Advertiser_, for accusing him of +having gambled in the public funds. He laid his damages at L10,000, but +only obtained a verdict for L250 in the first case, and L150 in the +second. In 1789 John Walter was sentenced to pay a fine of L50, to be +exposed in the pillory for an hour, and to be imprisoned for one year, +at the expiration of which he was ordered to find substantial bail for +his good behavior for seven years, for a libel upon the Duke of York. In +the following year he was again prosecuted and convicted for libels upon +the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Clarence, but, +after undergoing four months of his second term of one year's +imprisonment, he was set free, at the instance of the Prince of Wales. +The last trial for libel, previous to the passing of Fox's libel bill, +was that of one Stockdale, for publishing a defence of Warren Hastings, +a pamphlet that was considered as libellously reflecting upon the House +of Commons. However, through the great exertions of Erskine, his +counsel, he was acquitted. + +In 1788 appeared the first daily evening paper, _The Star_, which +continued until 1831, when it was amalgamated with _The Albion_. The +year 1789 is memorable for the assumption of the editorship of _The +Morning Chronicle_ by James Perry, under whose management it reached a +greater pitch of prosperity and success than it ever enjoyed either +before or since--greater, in fact, than any journal had hitherto +attained. One of the chief reasons of this success was that he printed +the night's debates in his next morning's issue, a thing which had never +before been accomplished or even attempted. Another secret of Perry's +success was the wonderful tact with which, while continuing to be +thoroughly outspoken and independent, he yet contrived--with one +exception, hereafter to be noticed--to steer clear of giving offence to +the Government. He is thus spoken of by a writer in _The Edinburgh +Review_: 'He held the office of editor for nearly forty years, and he +held firm to his party and his principles all that time--a long time for +political honesty and consistency to last! He was a man of strong +natural sense, some acquired knowledge, a quick tact, prudent, +plausible, and with great heartiness and warmth of feeling.' His want of +education, however, now and then betrayed him into errors, and a curious +instance of this is, that on one occasion, when he meant to say +'epithalamia,' he wrote and printed 'epicedia,' a mistake which he +corrected with the greatest coolness on the following day thus: 'For +'epicedia' read 'epithalamia.' + +The next event of importance is the appearance of Bell's _Weekly +Messenger_, in 1796, a newspaper that met with immediate success, and is +the only one of the weeklies of that period which have survived to the +present time. The year '96 is also remarkable for an action brought by +_The Telegraph_ against _The Morning Post_, for damages suffered by +publishing an extract from a French paper, which purported to give the +intelligence of peace between the Emperor of Germany and France, but +which was forged and surreptitiously sent to _The Telegraph_ by the +proprietors of _The Morning Post_. The result was that _The Telegraph_ +obtained a verdict for L100 damages. In 1794, _The Morning Advertiser_ +had been established by the Licensed Victuallers of London, with the +intention of benefiting by its sale the funds of the asylum which that +body had recently established. It at once obtained a large circulation, +inasmuch as every publican became a subscriber. It exists to the present +day, and is known by the slang _sobriquet_ of the 'Tub,' an appellation +suggested by its _clientele_. Its opinions are radical, and it is +conducted not without a fair share of ability, but, occasionally +venturing out of its depth, it has more than once been most successfully +and amusingly hoaxed. One of these cases was when a correspondent +contributed an extraordinary Greek inscription, which he asserted had +been recently discovered. This so-called inscription was in reality +nothing but some English doggerel of anything but a refined character +turned into Greek. + +In 1797, Canning brought out _The Anti-Jacobin_ as a Government organ, +and Gifford--who began life as a cobbler's apprentice at an +out-of-the-way little town in Devonshire, and afterward became editor of +_The Quarterly Review_ in its palmiest days--was intrusted with its +management. _The Anti-Jacobin_ lasted barely eight months, but was +probably the most potent satirical production that has ever emanated +from the English press. The first talent of the day was engaged upon it; +and among its contributors we find Pitt, Lord Mornington, afterward +Marquis of Wellesley, Lord Morpeth, afterward Earl of Carlisle, +Jenkinson, afterward Earl of Liverpool, Canning, George Ellis, Southey, +Lord Bathurst, Addington, John Hookham Frere, and a host of other +prominent names at the time. The poetry of _The Anti-Jacobin_--its +strongest feature--has been collected into a volume, which has passed +through several editions. This journal was the first to inaugurate +'sensation' headings; for the three columns which were respectively +entitled 'Mistakes,' 'Misrepresentations,' 'Lies,' and which most +truculently slashed away at the opponents of the political opinions of +_The Anti-Jacobin_, decidedly come under that category. + +We have now arrived at another era of persecution. Those were ticklish +times, and Pitt, fearing lest revolutionary theories might be +promulgated through the instrumentality of the press, determined to +tighten the reins, and curb that freedom of expression which, after an +interval of rest from prosecution, was manifestly degenerating. Poor +Perry was arraigned on a charge of exhibiting a leaning toward France, +and he and his printer were fined and sent to prison. Pitt really +appears to have had good ground for action, in one instance, at least, +for _The Courier_ had made certain statements which might fairly be +construed as hostile to the Government, and favorable to France. +Moreover, it was stated in the House of Commons by the attorney-general, +that a parcel of unstamped newspapers had been seized in a neutral +vessel bound to France, containing information 'which, if any one had +written and sent in another form to the enemy, he would have committed +the highest crime of which a man can be guilty.' Among other things, +the departure of the West India fleet under the convoy of two frigates +only was noticed, and the greatest fears were expressed for its safety +in consequence. Another thing mentioned was, that as there was to be a +levy _en masse_ in this country, the French would not be so ill advised +as to come here, but would make a swoop upon Ireland. A bill was brought +forward, the chief provisions of which were that the proprietors and +printers of all newspapers should inscribe their names in a book, kept +for that purpose at the stamp office, in order that the book might be +produced in court on occasion of any trial, as evidence of the +proprietorship and responsibility, and that a copy of each issue of +every newspaper should be filed at the stamp office, to be produced as +good and sufficient evidence of publication. A vehement debate followed, +in the course of which Lord William Russell declared the bill to be an +insidious blow at the liberty of the press; and Sir W. Pulteney said +that 'the liberty of the press was of such a sacred nature that we ought +to suffer many inconveniences rather than check its influence in such a +manner as to endanger our liberties; for he had no hesitation in saying +that without the liberty of the press the freedom of this country would +be a mere shadow.' But the great speech of the debate was that of Sir +Francis Burdett, who did not then foresee that the time would come when +he himself should make an attack upon the press. + + 'The liberty of the press,' he said, 'is of so delicate a nature, + and so important for the preservation of that small portion of + liberty which still remains to the country, that I cannot allow the + bill to pass without giving it my opposition. A good Government, a + free Government, has nothing to apprehend, and everything to hope + from the liberty of the press; it reflects a lustre upon all its + actions, and fosters every virtue. But despotism courts shade and + obscurity, and dreads the scrutinizing eye of liberty, the freedom + of the press, which pries into its secret recesses, discovering it + in its lurking holes, and drags it forth to public detestation. If + a tyrannically disposed prince, supported by an unprincipled, + profligate minister, backed by a notoriously corrupt Parliament, + were to cast about for means to secure such a triple tyranny, I + know of no means he could devise so effectual for that purpose as + the bill now upon the table.' + +Spite, however, of this vigorous opposition, the bill passed, and among +other coercive measures it decreed heavy penalties against any +infringement of the stamp act, such as: 'Every person who shall +knowingly and wilfully retain or keep in custody any newspaper not duly +stamped, shall forfeit twenty pounds for each, such unstamped newspaper +he shall so have in custody'--'every person who shall knowingly or +wilfully, directly or indirectly, send or carry or cause to be sent or +carried out of Great Britain any unstamped newspaper, shall forfeit one +hundred pounds,' and 'every person during the present war who shall send +any newspaper out of Great Britain into any country not in amity with +his Majesty, shall forfeit five hundred pounds.' Stringent measures +these, with a vengeance! The onslaught initiated by Parliament was well +seconded by the judges, and Lord Kenyon especially distinguished himself +as an unscrupulous (the word is not one whit too strong) foe to the +press. To such an extent was this persecution carried, that the printer, +publisher, and proprietor of _The Courier_ were fined and imprisoned for +the following 'libel' upon the Emperor Paul: 'The Emperor of Russia is +rendering himself obnoxious to his subjects by various acts of tyranny, +and ridiculous in the eyes of Europe by his inconsistency. He has now +passed an edict prohibiting the exportation of timber deal,' etc. To +fine a man L100 and imprison him for six months for this was a little +overstepping the mark, and a reaction soon followed, as a proof of which +may be noticed the act 39th and 40th George III., cap. 72, which allows +the newspaper to be increased from the old regulation size of +twenty-eight inches by twenty to that of thirty inches and a half by +twenty. + +William Cobbett now makes his bow as an English journalist. He was +already notorious in America, as the author of the 'Letters of Peter +Porcupine,' published at Philadelphia; and, upon his return to England, +he projected an anti-democratic newspaper, under the title of _The +Porcupine_, the first number of which appeared in November, 1800. It was +a very vigorous production, and at once commanded public attention and a +large sale. Nevertheless it was but short lived, for the passions and +fears to which it ministered soon calmed down; and, its occupation being +gone, it naturally gave up the ghost and died. Among other celebrities +who now wrote for the newspapers are Porson, the accomplished but +bibulous Greek scholar and critic; Tom Campbell, several of whose most +beautiful poems first appeared in the columns of _The Morning +Chronicle_, Charles Lamb, Southey, Wordsworth, and Mackintosh. These +last five wrote for _The Morning Post_, and raised it, by their +brilliant contributions, from the last place among the dailies--its +circulation had actually sunk to three hundred and fifty before they +joined its ranks--to the second place, and caused it to tread very +closely upon the heels of _The Chronicle_. Tom Campbell, besides his +poetry, wrote prose articles, and was also regularly engaged as a writer +in _The Star_. Porson married James Perry's sister, and many scholarly +articles which graced the columns of _The Morning Chronicle_ toward the +close of the eighteenth century are generally believed to have emanated +from his pen. Mackintosh had written foreign political articles in _The +Oracle_ and _Morning Chronicle_, but, marrying the sister of Daniel +Stuart, the proprietor of _The Morning Post_ and _The Courier_, he +transferred his services to those journals, as well as occasionally to +_The Star_, which belonged to a brother of Stuart. Southey and +Wordsworth's contributions to Stuart's papers were principally poetry. +Charles Lamb's contributions were principally short, witty paragraphs, +which he contributed to any of the papers that would receive them, and +for which he received the magnificent remuneration of sixpence each! +Coleridge had first appeared in the newspaper world as a contributor of +poetry to _The Morning Chronicle_, but was soon after regularly engaged +upon _The Morning Post_ and _The Courier_. Some of his prose articles +have been collected together into a volume, and republished with the +title of 'Essays on His Own Times.' He was especially hostile to France, +and the best proof of the ability and vigor of his anti-Gallican +articles is that Napoleon actually sent a frigate in pursuit of him, +when he was returning from Leghorn to England, with the avowed intention +of getting him into his power if possible. The First Consul had +endeavored to get him arrested at Rome, but Coleridge got a friendly +hint--according to some from Jerome Bonaparte, and according to others +from the Pope, who assisted him in making his escape. Bonaparte had +probably gained intelligence of the whereabout of Coleridge from a +debate in the House of Commons, in the course of which Fox said that the +rupture of the Peace of Amiens was owing to Coleridge's articles in _The +Morning Post_, and added that the writer was then at Rome, and therefore +might possibly fall into the hands of his enemy. Napoleon was very much +irritated by the attacks upon him in _The Morning Chronicle_ as well as +by those in Cobbett's _Political Register_--_The Porcupine_ under a new +name--the _Courrier Francois de Londres_--the French _emigres'_ +paper--and _L'Ambigu_, which was rather a political pamphlet, published +at periodical intervals, than a regular newspaper. He therefore thought +proper peremptorily to call upon the English Government to put these +papers down with a high hand. But the British cabinet sent this noble +reply: + + 'His Majesty neither can nor will in consequence of any + representation or menace from a foreign power make any concession + which may be in the smallest degree dangerous to the liberty of the + press as secured by the Constitution of this country. This liberty + is justly dear to every British subject; the Constitution admits of + no previous restraints upon publications of any description; but + there exist judicatures wholly independent of the executive, + capable of taking cognizance of such publications as the law deems + to be criminal; and which are bound to inflict the punishment the + delinquents may deserve. These judicatures may investigate and + punish not only libels against the Government and magistracy of + this kingdom, but, as has been repeatedly experienced, of + publications defamatory of those in whose hands the administration + of foreign Governments is placed. Our Government neither has, nor + wants, any other protection than what the laws of the country + afford; and though they are willing and ready to give to every + foreign Government all the protection against offences of this + nature which the principles of their laws and Constitution will + admit, they can never consent to new-model those laws or to change + their Constitution to gratify the wishes of any foreign power.' + +But Napoleon indignantly declined to avail himself of the means of +redress suggested to him, and continued to urge the English Government; +who at length made a sort of compromise, by undertaking a prosecution of +Peltier, the proprietor of _L'Ambigu_. Mackintosh was his counsel; and +in spite of his speech for the defence, which Spencer Perceval +characterized as 'one of the most splendid displays of eloquence he ever +had occasion to hear,' and Lord Ellenborough as 'eloquence almost +unparalleled,' Peltier was found guilty--but, as hostilities soon after +broke out again with France, was never sentenced. The best part of the +story, however, is, that all the time ministers were paying Peltier in +private for writing the very articles for which they prosecuted him in +public! This did not come out until some years afterward, when Lord +Castlereagh explained the sums thus expended as 'grants for public and +not private service, and for conveying instructions to the Continent +when no other mode could be found.' The trial of Peltier aroused a +strong feeling of indignation in the country; the English nation has +always been very jealous of any interference with its laws at the +dictation of any foreign potentate, as Lord Palmerston on a recent +occasion found to his cost. + +Cobbett was soon after tried for a libel--not, however, upon Napoleon, +but upon the English Government. There must have been an innate tendency +in Cobbett's mind to set himself in opposition to everything around him, +for whereas he had made America too hot to hold him by his +anti-republican views, he now contrived to set the authorities at home +against him by his advanced radicalism. He had to stand two trials in +1804, in connection with Robert Emmet's rebellion. On the second of +these he was fined L500, and Judge Johnson, one of the Irish judges, who +was the author of the libels complained of, retired from his judicial +position with a pension. These reflections in question upon the Irish +authorities would hardly be called libels now-a-days, consisting as they +did chiefly of ridicule and satire, which was, after all, mild and +harmless enough. In 1810, Cobbett got into trouble again. Some militia +soldiers had been flogged, while a detachment of the German Legion stood +by to maintain order. Cobbett immediately published a diatribe against +flogging in the army and the employment of foreign mercenaries. He was +indicted for a 'libel' upon the German Legion, convicted, and sentenced +to two years' imprisonment, to pay a fine of L1,000, and to find +security in L3,000 for his good behavior during seven years--a sentence +which created universal disgust among all classes, and which was not too +strongly designated by Sydney Smith as 'atrocious.' + +_The Oracle_--which, by the way, boasted Canning among its +contributors--was rash enough to publish an article in defence of Lord +Melville. The House of Commons fired up at this, and, led on by +Sheridan--_quantum mutatus ab illo!_--Fox, Wyndham, and others, who had +formerly professed themselves friends to the liberty of the press, but +who were now carried away by the virulence of party spirit, caused the +publisher to be brought before them, and made him apologize and make his +submission upon his knees. + +In 1805 appeared _The News_, a paper started by John Hunt and his +brother Leigh, then but a mere boy, but who had, nevertheless, had some +experience in newspaper writing from having been an occasional +contributor to _The Traveller_, an evening paper, that was afterward +amalgamated with _The Globe_, which still retains the double title. The +year 1808 was fruitful in prosecutions for libels, but is chiefly +remarkable for the appearance of Hunt's new paper, _The Examiner_. This +was conducted upon what was styled by their opponents revolutionary +principles, an accusation which Leigh Hunt afterward vehemently +repudiated. This same year also gave birth to the first religious paper +which had as yet appeared, under the name of _The Instructor_, as well +as to _The Anti-Gallican_, which seems to have quickly perished of +spontaneous combustion, and _The Political Register_, an impudent piracy +of the title of Cobbett's paper, and directed against him. In 1809, +Government passed a bill in favor of newspapers, to amend some of the +restrictions under which they labored. This was done on account of the +high price of paper: and yet in the following year another attempt was +made to exclude the reporters from the House of Commons. These men had +always done their work well and honestly, although in their private +lives some of them had not borne the very best character. A capital +story is told of Mark Supple, an Irish reporter of the old school, who +was employed on _The Chronicle_. One evening, when there was a sudden +silence in the midst of a debate, Supple bawled out: 'A song from Mr. +Speaker.' The members could not have been more astonished had a +bombshell been suddenly discharged into the midst of them; but, after a +slight pause, every one--Pitt among the first--went off into such shouts +of laughter, that the halls of the House shook again. The +sergeant-at-arms was, however, sent to the gallery to ascertain who had +had the audacity to propose such a thing; whereupon Supple winked at him +and pointed out a meek, sober Quaker as the culprit. Broadbrim was +immediately taken into custody; but Supple, being found out, was locked +up in a solitary chamber to cool his heels for a while, and then having +made a humble apology, to the effect that 'it was the dhrink that did +it,' or something of the kind, was set at liberty. But the reporters at +the period of this unjust and foolish exclusion--for it was successful +for a time--were a very different class of men; and Sheridan told the +House that 'of about twenty-three gentlemen who were now employed +reporting parliamentary debates for the newspapers, no less than +eighteen were men regularly educated at the universities of Oxford or +Cambridge, Edinburgh or Dublin, most of them graduates at those +universities, and several of them had gained prizes and other +distinctions there by their literary attainments.' It was during this +debate that Sheridan uttered that memorable and glowing eulogium upon +the press which has been quoted in the first of the present series of +articles. + +It has been shown that at one time the church was the profession which +most liberally supplied the press with writers; but now the bar appears +to have furnished a very large share, and many young barristers had +been and were reporters. The benchers of Lincoln's Inn endeavored to put +a stop to this, and passed a by-law that no man who had ever been paid +for writing in the newspapers should be eligible for a call to the bar. +This by-law was appealed against in the House of Commons, and, after a +debate, in which Sheridan spoke very warmly against the benchers, the +petition was withdrawn upon the understanding that the by-law should be +recalled. From that time to the present, writing in the newspapers and +reporting the debates have been the means whereby many of the most +distinguished of our lawyers have been enabled to struggle through the +days of their studentship and the earlier years of their difficult +career. + +The last attempt of the House of Commons against the press culminated in +Sir Francis Burdett's coming forward in its behalf, and, in an article +in Cobbett's paper, among other things he asserted that the House of +Commons had no legal right to imprison the People of England. In acting +thus, Sir Francis amply atoned for the ridiculous attempt which, +prompted by wounded vanity, he had made a few years before to engage the +interference of the House of Commons in his behalf in what he called a +breach of privilege--the said breach of privilege consisting merely in +an advertisement in _The True Briton_ of the resolutions passed at a +public meeting to petition against his return to Parliament. The results +of his bold attack upon the power of the House of Commons, his +imprisonment, the riots, and lamentable loss of life which followed, are +so well known as to render any particularizing of them here unnecessary. +Originating with this affair was a Government prosecution of _The Day_, +the upshot of which was that Eugenius Roche, the editor--who was also +proprietor of another flourishing journal, _The National Register_--one +of the most able, honorable, and gentlemanly men ever connected with the +press, of whom it has been truly said that 'during the lapse of more +than twenty years that he was connected with the journals of London, he +never gained an enemy or lost a friend,' was most unjustly condemned to +a year's imprisonment. + +The next important event is the trial of the Hunts for a libel in _The +Examiner_ in 1811. Brougham was their counsel, and made a masterly +defence; and, though Lord Ellenborough, the presiding judge, summed up +dead against the defendants--the judges always appear to have done +so--the jury acquitted them. Yet Brougham in the course of his address +drew the following unfavorable picture of the then state of the press: + + 'The licentiousness of the press has reached to a height which it + certainly never attained in any other country, nor even in this at + any former period. That licentiousness has indeed of late years + appeared to despise all the bounds which had once been prescribed + to the attacks on private character, insomuch that there is not + only no personage so important or exalted--for of that I do not + complain--but no person so humble, harmless, and retired as to + escape the defamation which is daily and hourly poured forth by the + venal crew to gratify the idle curiosity or still less excusable + malignity of the public. To mark out for the indulgence of that + propensity individuals retiring into the privacy of domestic + life--to hunt them down and drag them forth as a laughing stock to + the vulgar, has become in our days with some men the road even to + popularity, but with multitudes the means of earning a base + subsistence.' + +Soon after this trial and another provincial one connected with the same +'libel'--one gets quite sick of the word--in which the defendants were +found guilty in spite of Brougham's exertions in their behalf and the +previous verdict of the London jury in the case of the Hunts, a debate +arose in the House of Commons on the subject of _ex-officio_ +informations generally, and especially with regard to their +applicability to the case of newspapers. In the course of this debate +Lord Folkestone charged the Government with partiality in their +prosecutions, and said: 'It appears that the real rule which guides +these prosecutions is this: that _The Courier_ and the other papers +which support the ministry of the day, may say whatever they please +without the fear of prosecution, whereas _The Examiner_, _The +Independent Whig_, _The Statesman_, and papers that take the contrary +line, are sure to be prosecuted for any expression that may be offensive +to the minister'--an accusation which was decidedly true. + +In 1812 the Hunts were again prosecuted for a libel upon the Prince +Regent, and sentenced to be imprisoned two years, and to pay a fine of +L500. Bat the imprisonment was alleviated in every possible way, as we +gather from Leigh Hunt's charming description of his prison in his +Autobiography. + + 'I papered the walls with a trellis of roses; I had the ceiling + colored with clouds and sky; the barred windows were screened with + venetian blinds; and when my book cases were set up with their + busts and flowers, and a pianoforte made its appearance, perhaps + there was not a handsomer room on that side of the water.... There + was a little yard outside, railed off from another belonging to a + neighboring ward. This yard I shut in with green palings, adorned + it with a trellis, bordered it with a thick bed of earth from a + nursery, and even contrived to have a grass plot. The earth I + filled with flowers and young trees. There was an apple tree from + which we managed to get a pudding the second year. As to my + flowers, they were allowed to be perfect.' + +We have now arrived at a period which may almost be called that of the +present, inasmuch as many well-known names which still continue to adorn +our current literature first begin to appear, together with many others, +the bearers of which have but recently departed from among us. Cyrus +Redding, John Payne Collier, and Samuel Carter Hall still survive, and, +it is to be hoped, are far off yet from the end of their honorable +career; and William Hazlitt, Theodore Hook, Lord Campbell, Dr. Maginn, +Dr. Croly, Thomas Barnes, William Jordan, and many others, belong as +much to the present generation as to the past. Among other distinguished +writers must be mentioned Jeremy Bentham and David Ricardo, who +contributed articles of sterling merit upon political economy and +finance to the newspapers, and especially to _The Morning Chronicle_, in +which journal William Hazlitt succeeded Lord Campbell, then 'plain John +Campbell,' as theatrical critic. Cyrus Redding was at one time editor of +_Galignani's Messenger_, and was afterward connected with _The Pilot_, +which was considered the best authority on Indian matters, and in some +way or another, at different times, with most of the newspapers of the +day. John P. Collier wrote in _The Times_ and _Morning Chronicle_, +Thomas Barnes in _The Morning Chronicle_ and _Champion_, Croly and S. C. +Hall in _The New Times_--a newspaper started by Stoddart, the editor of +_The Times_, after his quarrel with Walter--Maginn in _The New Times_, +_Standard_, _John Bull_, and many others, William Hazlitt in _The +Morning Chronicle_, _Examiner_, and _Atlas_, and Theodore Hook in _John +Bull_, of which he was the editor. + +In 1815, the advertisement duty, which had hitherto stood at three +shillings, was raised to three shillings and sixpence, and an additional +halfpenny was clapped on to the stamp duty. There were then fifty-five +newspapers published in London, of which fifteen were daily, one hundred +and twenty-two in the provinces of England and Wales, twenty-six in +Scotland, and forty-nine in Ireland. + +And here let us pause to consider the position which the press had +reached. It had survived all the attempts made to crush it; nay, more, +it had triumphed over all its foes. Grateful to Parliament, whenever +that august assemblage befriended it, and standing manfully at bay +whenever its liberties had been threatened in either House, it had +overcome all resistance, and Lords and Commons recognized in it a safe +and honorable tribunal, before which their acts would be impartially +judged, as well as the truest and most legitimate medium between the +rulers and the ruled. The greatest names of the day in politics and in +literature were proud to range themselves under its banners and to aid +in the glorious work of extending its influence, developing its +usefulness, and elevating its tone and character; and the people at +large had learned to look upon it as the firm friend of national +enlightenment, and the most trustworthy guardian of their constitutional +liberties. + + + + +LIFE ON A BLOCKADER. + + +Life in the camp and in the field has formed the staple of much writing +since the commencement of the war, and all have now at least a tolerable +idea of the soldier's ordinary life. Our sailors are a different matter, +and while we study the daily papers for Army news, we are apt to ignore +the Navy, and forget that, though brave men are in the field, a smaller +proportion of equally brave serve on a more uncertain field, where not +one alone but many forms of death are before them. Shot and shell it is +the soldier's duty to face, and the sailor's as well, but one ball at +sea may do the work of a thousand on shore: it may pass through a +vessel, touching not a soul on board, and yet from the flying splinters +left in its path cause the death of a score; its way may lie through the +boilers, still touching no one, and yet the most horrible of all deaths, +that by scalding steam, result. It may chance to hit the powder +magazine, and sudden annihilation be the fate of both ship and crew; or, +passing below the water line, bring a no less certain, though slower +fate--that which met the brave little Keokuk at Charleston, not many +months since. + +Life at sea is a compound of dangers, and though the old tar may +congratulate himself in a stormy night on being safe in the maintop, and +sing after Dibdin-- + + 'Lord help us! how I pitys + All unhappy folks on shore'-- + +to the majority of our present Navy, made up as it is, in part at least, +of volunteer officers and men, it is essentially distasteful, and +endured only as the soldier endures trench duty or forced marches--as a +means of sooner ending the Rebellion, and bringing white-winged Peace in +the stead of grim War. + +The history of our ironclads, from their first placing on the stocks, to +the present time, when Charleston engrosses them all, is read with +avidity, but few know anything of life on our blockaders, or, thinking +there is not the dignity of danger associated with them, take little or +no interest in what they may chance to see concerning them. Those who +have friends on blockade duty may be interested to know more of their +daily life than can be crowded into the compass of home letters, and the +writer, one of the squadron off Wilmington, would constitute himself +historian of the doings of at least one ship of the fleet. + +Wilmington, Charleston, and Mobile, alone remain of all the rebel ports, +but it is with the first we have to do--where it is, how it looks, &c. + +Right down the coast, some 450 miles from New York, and a hundred or +more from the stormy cape of Hatteras, you will see the river which +floats the merchandise to and from the docks at Wilmington, emptying +into the ocean at Cape Fear, from which it takes its name. The river has +two mouths, or rather a mouth proper, which opens to the south of the +cape, and an opening into the side of the river, north of the cape +called New Inlet. Perhaps more seek entrance by this inlet than the +mouth, which is guarded by Fort Caswell, a strong, regularly built fort, +once in Union hands, mounting some long-range English Whitworth guns. +One other fort has been built here since the commencement of the war. +This inlet is guarded by a long line of earthworks, mounted by Whitworth +and other guns of heavy caliber. Wilmington lies some twenty miles from +the mouth, and fifteen north of New Inlet. + +One great characteristic of this coast is the columns of smoke, which +every few miles shoot up from its forests and lowlands. All along the +coasts may be seen mounds where pitch, tar, and turpentine are being +made. These primitive manufactories for the staple of North Carolina are +in many places close down to the water's edge, whence their products may +easily be shipped on schooners or light-draft vessels, with little +danger of being caught by the blockaders, who draw too much water to +make a very near approach to shore. So much for the coast we guard; now +for ourselves. + +Our vessel, of some thirteen hundred tons, and manned by a crew of about +200 all told, reached blockade ground the early part of March. Our +voyage down the coast had been unmarked by any special incident, and +when at dusk, one spring afternoon, we descried a faint blue line of +land in the distance, and knew it as the enemy's territory, speculation +was rife as to the prospect of prizes. About 11 P. M. a vessel +hove in sight, which, as it neared, proved to be a steamer of about half +our tonnage. Our guns were trained upon the craft, but, instead of +running, she steamed up toward us. We struck a light, but it was as loth +to show its brightness as the ancient bushel-hidden candle. A rope was +turpentined, and touched with burning match, but the flame spread up and +down the whole spiral length of the rope torch, to the infinite vexation +of the lighter. Fierce stampings and fiercer execrations swiftly +terrorized the trembling quartermaster, who, good fellow, did his best, +and then, frightened into doing something desperate, made this blaze. We +hailed them while waiting for fire to throw signals, letting them know +who we were; but the wind carried away our shoutings, and the vessel +actually seemed inclined to run us down. Worse yet--what could the +little vixen mean?--a bright light, flashed across her decks, showed +gathering round her guns a swift-moving band of men. Her crew were +training their guns upon us for our swift capture or destruction: she +could not see our heavy weight of metal, for our ports were closed. She +might be a friend, for so her signal lights seemed to indicate; but if +of our fleet, how should we let her know in time to save the loss of +life and irreparable harm a single ball from her might do? She had +waited long enough for friendly signals from us, and the wind, which +swept our shouts from hearing, brought to us from them, first, questions +as to who we were, then threats to fire if we did not quickly tell, and +then orders passed to the men at the foremost gun: 'One point to the +starboard train her!'--words which made their aim on us more sure and +fatal. 'Bear a hand with that fire and torch! Be quick, for God's sake, +or we'll have a shot through us, and that from a friend, unless we blaze +away like lightning with our rockets.' The crew were stepping from the +gun to get out of the way as it was fired; the captain of the gun held +the lock string in his hand; but the instant had not been lost, and our +rockets, springing high in air, told our story. Danger is past: we learn +they are not only friends, but to be neighbors, and steam in together to +our post rather nearer the shore than other vessels here. + +Days pass on in watching, and as yet no foreign sail. We study the line +of our western horizon, and find it well filled in with forts, +embrazures, earthworks, black-nosed dogs of war, and busy traitors. As +time goes on, a new thing opens to the view: a short week ago it seemed +but a molehill: now it has risen to the height of a man, and hourly +increases in size. Two weeks, and now its summit is far above the reach +of spade or shovel throw, and crowned by a platform firmly knit and held +together by well-spliced timbers. As to its object we are somewhat +dubious, but think it the beginning of an earthwork fortress, built high +in order that guns may be depressed and brought to bear on the turrets +of any Monitors which might possibly come down upon this place or +Wilmington. + +At night we draw nearer to the shore, watching narrowly for blockade +runners, which evade us occasionally, but oftener scud away +disappointed. One night or early morning, 3 A. M. by the clock, +we tried to heave up anchor; the pin slipped from the shackles, and the +anchor, with forty fathoms of chain attached, slipped and sank to the +bottom in some eight fathoms of water. + +The next day we steamed into our moorings of the previous night and +sought to drag for it. While arranging to do so, we saw a puff of smoke +from the shore. Bang! and a massive cannon ball tore whizzing over our +heads. The shore batteries had us in their range, and the firing from +the far-reaching Whitworth guns grows more rapid. Puff after puff rolls +up from the long line of battery-covered hillocks, under the bastard +flag, and the rolling thunder peals on our ears with the whizzing of +death-threatening balls. Oh! the excitement of watching and wondering +where the next ball will strike, and whether it will crush a hole right +through us, wasting rich human life, and scattering our decks with +torn-off limbs and running pools of blood. Quickly as possible we up +anchor and away, and soon are out of reach of balls, which splash the +water not a ship's length from us. Even then we involuntarily dodge +behind some pine board or other equally serviceable screen; and a +newspaper, if that were nearest, would be used for the same purpose--so +say those who have tasted many a naval fight. In fact, the dodge is as +often after the ball has hit as before, as this story of one of our +brave quartermasters will prove: Under fire from rebel batteries, he +noted the cloud of smoke which burst from one of the fort's +embrazures--watched sharply for the ball--heard the distant roar and its +cutting whiz overhead--watched still further, saw it fall into the sea +beyond, and then sang out to the captain, 'There it fell, sir!' and like +lightning dodged behind a mast, as though the necessity had but just +occurred to him. + +As our rebel friends see their shot falling short of us, the firing +ceases, and thus harmlessly ends the action which for a few moments +threatened so much, teaching us the folly of too near approaches to +land, or attempts to batter down, to which we have often been tempted, +the earthworks daily erecting. It is folly to attempt it, because the +disabling of these few blockade steamers would open the port to all who +choose to barter with our Southern foes; and, _en passant_, this will +explain why here and elsewhere the rebels build their works under the +very noses of our men-of-war. Thus a vessel runs the blockade, and takes +into them English Whitworth guns, which send balls flying through the +air a good five miles, and whose range is longer than our far-famed +Parrott rifled cannon. These Whitworths they place concealed in +hillsides, or in forests back of the places where they build the regular +fort to protect them. If our vessels approach to batter down these germs +of forts, fire is opened on us from these long rangers, and nine chances +out of ten we are disabled before we can so much as touch them with our +guns; so that for ourselves we accomplish nothing, thereby benefiting +them. + +Week days and Sundays pass on alike as far as outside incident is +concerned, but new features in each other open to view as time goes on. +Naval discipline develops the bump of reverence, or at any rate fosters +it for a time, and to the volunteer in his first days or weeks passed on +board a man-of-war, the dignified captain in the retirement of his cabin +is an object of veneration, and the slight peculiarities of some other +officers, merely ornamental additions to shining characters. On a +Sunday, for instance, in the early part of the cruise, the said bump +receives as it were a strengthening plaster, at the sight of officers +and men in full dress--the first resplendent in gold-banded +caps--multiplied buttons--shining sword hilts, et cetera, et cetera, and +the men in white ducks, blue shirts, et cetera, scattered about the +decks in picturesque groups. The captain, from the fact of his occupying +a private cabin, and seeing the officers merely to give orders or +receive reports in the line of their duty, comes but little in contact +with them, and, as there is a certain idea of grandeur in isolation, +obliges a degree of reverence not accorded to those with whom one is in +constant intercourse. A slight feeling of superiority always exists in +the minds of those of the regular navy over the volunteer officers, and +though at first the ward-room mess all seemed 'hail fellow, well met,' +familiarity develops various traits and tendencies, which, in a mess of +eight or nine, will not be persuaded to form a harmonious whole. Our +lieutenant, for instance, who, in the first days of the cruise, appeared +a compound of all the Christian graces, and a 'pattern of a gentleman,' +develops a pleasant little tendency to swear viciously on slight +provocation, and, though, rather afraid to indulge his propensities to +the full, lest the rules of naval service be violated, and disgrace +follow, still recreates himself privately, by pinching the little +messenger boys till they dance, and gritting his teeth, as if he longed +to do more, but didn't dare. It is wonderful how salt water develops +character. Our (on land) _debonnaire_, chivalrous executive, is merged +in the swearing blackguard as far as he can be; and yet strange as it +may seem, no man can be braver in time of danger, or apparently more +forgetful of self. Our paymaster, too, has suffered a sea change: the +gentleman is put away with his Sunday uniform, and taken out to air only +when it is politic to do so: wine and cigars, owned by somebody else, +occasion its instant appearance. No man on ship can show more deference +for another's feelings where the captain is concerned; no man more +thorough disregard where the sailors come into question. Yet this man +has also his redeeming points or point, made perceptible by a solitary +remark, remembered in his favor at times when the inclination has been +to call him a hypocritical scoundrel. One of the mess, rather given to +profanity, said to him one day: 'Paymaster, what's the reason you never +swear?' 'Because,' was the answer, 'I never set an example at home which +I would not wish my children to follow, and so I've got out of the way +of it.' + +Various criticisms might be made on officers and men: there are +characters enough among them to furnish material for a volume. Some are +moderately patriotic, but would have been as much so on the other side, +had as strong inducements been held out in the way of 'loaves and +fishes.' Others love the cause for itself, and hold life cheap if its +sacrifice may in any way advance it. Blockade duty is perhaps a harder +test of this love than actual field service; and as months pass on, it +becomes almost unendurable. The first few days can be taken up in sight +seeing on board, and the most novel of these said sights is the drill +which follows the daily call to quarters. The rapid roll of the drum is +the signal: here, there, everywhere, on berth deck, spar deck, quarter +deck, men spring to their feet, jump from their hammocks, and every door +and passage way is blocked up by the crowd, who rush to their respective +quarters, and about the armory, each seeking to be the first, who, fully +equipped with cutlass, gun, and sabre-bayonet affixed, shall be in his +place. Another instant, and all stand about their several guns in rows, +awaiting orders from their officers, who sing out in clear commanding +tones, as though a real fight were impending: 'Pass 9-inch shell and +load!' They drive it home. 'Now run out! train her two points off port +quarter; elevate for five hundred yards! Fire! Run her in! Run out +starboard gun! Run her home! Train her three points off starboard +quarter! Fire!' + +High up on the bridge of the hurricane deck, stands the first +lieutenant, overlooking the men as they work the guns, train, load, run +out, and mimic fire. Suddenly he shouts through the trumpet: 'Boarders +and pikemen at port quarter! First boarders advance! Second boarders +advance! Repel boarders! Retreat boarders! Pikemen cover cutlass +division! Fire! Repel boarders!' The second hand scarcely sweeps over a +quarter of its dial before the men have crowded around the port +bulwarks, and are slashing the air with a most Quixotic fury--then +crouch on bent knee, to make ready their pistols, while in their rear, +marines and pikemen, musket and rifle armed, snap their pieces, and pour +into an imaginary foe a vast volley of imaginary balls; then pierce the +air with savage bayonet thrusts. The farce, and yet a most useful farce, +is gone through with. The retreat is ordered to be beat, and all retire; +refill the armory with their deadly rifles and side arms, and then +return to their respective watches, work, or recreation--some gathering +round a canvas checker board; some polishing up bright work; others +making pants, shirts, or coats, or braiding light straw hats. Some are +aloft, and watching with eager eyes to catch the first glimpse of a sail +on the distant horizon; and this he must do from his loftly outlook +before the officer of the deck or quartermaster espies one, as they +sweep the sky with their long-reaching glasses--else he may suffer +reprimand and prison fare. + +These and our meals are epochs which measure out the time, between which +the minutes and hours pass most wearily, and are filled with longings +for home or some welcome words from there, the next meal, or the drum +beat to quarters. Said one to me whose time is not used up as is that of +the watch officers, by four-hour watches twice in the twenty-four hours: +'When breakfast's done, the next thing I look forward to is dinner, and +when that's done, I look for supper time, and then wait in patience till +the clock strikes ten, and the 'master at arms' knocks at our several +doors, saying: 'Four bells, gentlemen; lights out, sirs.'' So time drags +often for weeks together. No new excitement fills the head with thought, +and more or less of _ennui_ takes hold on all. In fact, some consider +life on shipboard not many removes from prison life; and a man +overflowing with the sap of life, whose muscles from head to foot tingle +for a good mile run across some open field, a tramp through a grand +forest, or climb of some mountain crag, and who loves the freedom of +good solid _terra firma_--he, I say, feels like a close-caged lion. + +After every calm comes a storm, and so, after weeks of listless waiting, +doing nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, a very gale of bustle +comes on. 'Sail ho!' comes from the lookout aloft. 'One point off our +starboard bow!' 'Man the windlass and up anchor!' shouts the officer of +the deck, as the strange sail bears down steadily toward us, finally +showing signals which tell us she's a friend and brings a mail. The +Iroquois steams out to meet her; their anchors drop, and they hold +friendly confab. We, too, soon come up, and hear that letters, papers, +fresh meat, and ice await us, on the good old Bay State steamer +Massachusetts. We prepare to lower boats and get our goodies, when we +are told from the Iroquois that a sail lies far off to the N. N. E., and +are ordered off on chase. 'It never rains but it pours,' think we. +Letters, goodies, and now a chance at a prize! 'Begone dull care!' 'Ay, +ay, sir!' responds swift-vanishing _ennui_, as our eyes are strained in +the direction we were told the vessel was seen. No sign of one yet; but +as we enter on our second mile, our lookout cries for the first time: 'A +sail! dead ahead, sir!' After a five miles' run, we near the vessel +sufficiently to make out that she is the brig Perry, one of Uncle Sam's +swiftest sailing vessels, and so we quit chasing, and return to get our +letters and provisions ere the Massachusetts starts again. An hour from +our first meeting we are back, and find her heaving anchor to be off, +for she runs on time, and may not delay here; so haste away with the +boats, or we lose mails, provisions, and all. The boat returns well +laden with barrels of potatoes, quarter of beef, and chunks of ice, but +no mail. 'Letters and papers all sent on board the Iroquois,' says the +Massachusetts; so if we have any, there they are, but no word of any for +us is sent; so with hearts disappointed, but stomachs rejoicing in the +prospect of ice water and fresh meat, we settle down. + +Our tongues, under red-tape discipline, keep mum, but inwardly we +protest against this deprivation, brought about by the wild-goose chase +on which we were ordered. Well, to-morrow the State of Georgia is +expected down from Beaufort, and she will bring us a mail, we hope. The +morrow comes, and at daydawn she heaves in sight, just halting as she +nears the flagship, to report herself returned all right, and then down +toward us--with a mail, we trust. She is hardly ten ship's lengths away, +when she spies a sail to southward, notifies us, and we both make chase. +She is deeply laden, we but lightly, so we soon outstrip her, and +overtake the sail, which is a schooner, and looks suspicious, very. We +order her to 'heave to,' which order is wilfully or unwittingly +misunderstood. At any rate she does not slacken her speed, till she +finds our guns brought to bear, and we nearly running her down. Then she +stops: we send a boat with officers and men to board her and see if we +have really a prize, and all is excitement. One officer offers his share +for ten dollars--another for twenty--a third for a V, and one for fifty +cents; but would-be salesmen of their shares are far more numerous than +buyers. And soon the boat returns, reporting the vessel as bound for +Port Royal, with coffee, sugar, and sutlers' stores. Her papers are all +right, and she may go on without further hinderance. Now back to the +State of Georgia for our mails. 'Our mails! our mails!' is the hungry +cry of our almost home-sick hearts. As we get within hailing distance, +we sing out for our letters, and are answered: 'While you were chasing +the schooner, we left your mail on board the Iroquois.' 'The devil you +did!' say some in bitter disappointment, but red tape demands that we +wait till the flagship sees fit to signal us to come for letters. The +hours pass wearily. We have waited weeks for home news, and, now that it +is here, we must wait again--a day, two days--a week even, if it suits +the flagship's convenience. At last the signals float and read: 'Letters +for the ----; come and get them.' + +At last! The seals are broken and we read the news. One tells of a sick +mother, dying, and longing to see her son. Another is from M----'s lady +love: we know by the way he blushes, the fine hand and closely written +pages, and various other symptoms. And our fleet of ironclads are busy +at Charleston. Heaven help the cause they work for! Now we must hasten +with our answers, to have them ready for sending at a moment's notice, +when it is signalled: 'A vessel bound North, and will carry your mails, +if ready.' + +As the sun goes down, the horizon is lit up with bonfires stretching +along the coast for miles. 'These fires mean something,' we say +knowingly; 'depend upon it, the rebs expect some vessel in to-night.' +Nothing came of it, however, though the following afternoon we saw a +steamer with two smoke stacks come down the river and take a look, +perhaps to see as to her chances of getting out that night. The twilight +darkened into night, and night wore on into the small hours, and now we +gazed into the gloom anxiously, for at this time, if any, she would seek +to run out. With straining eyes and the most intense quiet, we listen +for the sound of paddle wheels. A stranger passing along our decks, +seeing in the darkness the shadowy forms of men crouched in listening +attitudes, would have fancied himself among a body of Indians watching +stealthily some savage prey. The night passes on; gray dawn tells of the +sun's approach, and soon his streaming splendor lights up sea and land. +We look to see if our hoped for prize still waits in the river, but +no--she is not there. The day wears on and still no signs of her. If she +has slipped by us, it is through the mouth and not the inlet, we feel +sure, but still are chagrined, and, doubting the possibility of ever +catching one, go to bed with the blues. + +The next day we brighten up a little, to be saddened the more, for the +Massachusetts on her return trip tells us that, so far from there being +good news from Charleston, we have only the worst to hear. The brave +little Keokuk is riddled with balls and sunk, and the fleet of ironclads +have retired from before the city. It is a costly experience, though it +may yet bear precious fruit, for they tell us it has revealed what was +necessary to make our next attack successful. What it is, we cannot +learn, the authorities meaning in the future, doubtless, to wait till +deeds have won them praise, before they make promises of great work. + +Night draws on again, and we move in toward shore. Signal lights are +burning, and huge bonfires, built behind the forests, that their glare +may not light up the water, but their reflection against the background +of the sky shows blockade runners the lay and bearings of the land. +Something will surely be done to-night, and we keep vigilant watch. Two +o'clock A. M., and a sound is heard, whether of paddle wheels, +surf on the beach, or blowing off of steam, we cannot tell. 'It's paddle +wheels,' says our ensign, and reports quickly to the captain. The first +lieutenant springs on deck, a steam whistle is heard, so faint that only +steam-taught ears know the sound, and word is passed to slip our chain +and anchor, and make chase in the direction of the sound. They spring to +the chain and work with a will to unshackle it quickly, but things are +not as they should be; the hammer is not at hand, and the pins not fixed +for speedy slipping out, even when struck a sharp, heavy blow. 'I think +I see a dark object off the direction of the sound we heard, sir,' says +some one. 'Confound the chain! will it never unshackle?' they exclaim, +as they seek to unloose it. At last it slips, we steam up, and are off +in pursuit, but which way shall we turn, and where shall we chase? There +is no guiding sound now, and we paddle cautiously on, spending the +balance of the night in this blind work, feeling for the prize which has +slipped from our fingers, for, as day dawns, we see a large steamer, +safe under the walls of the fort. If disappointments make philosophers, +we ought to rank with Diogenes. + +The next day is filled with growl and 'ifs' and 'ands,' and 'if _this_ +had been so and so,' and 'but for that neglect, which we shall know how +to avoid next time,' etc., etc. The afternoon of another day comes on, +and then a sail is descried, and off we go after it. Seven or eight +miles' run brings us close to it; still it pays no attention, but keeps +straight on. The captain orders a ball to be fired across her bows, +which explodes so near as to splash great jets of water over them. Her +crew and captain strike sail, and let go halliards, while they fly +behind masts, down cockpit, or wherever they can get for safety. Finding +no further harm is meant than to bring them to, they answer back our +hail--say they are going to Beaufort, quite a different direction from +the one they are heading--and seem generally confused. As an excuse they +say their compass is out of order, and as they appear to be wreckers, we +allow them to go on without further molestation, and steam back to our +moorings, consoling ourselves by the fact that these bootless chases are +using up coal, and thereby hastening the time of our going to Beaufort +to coal up, where we shall have a chance to step once more on _terra +firma_. + +Another night passes, and there are no indications of runners having +tried to escape us; but at sunrise we see, far to the south, a schooner, +and soon the flagship signals that a prize has been taken by one of our +fleet. It looks very much like the schooner we let go yesterday, and our +head officers swear, if it _is_ that schooner, never to let another go +so easily. One declares the vessel is loaded with cotton, and worth at +least $100,000, but that, notwithstanding, he will sell his share for +$500 in good gold. No one bids so high. Our ensign offers his for one +dollar, and the paymaster sells his to the surgeon for fifty cents, the +magnificence of which bargain the latter learns from the captain, who +says his share will be about seven and a half cents! We steam alongside, +and learn that our prize is the schooner St. George, bound for +Wilmington, via the Bermudas, with a cargo of salt, saltpetre, etc., and +worth perhaps four thousand dollars. We send our prize list on board the +flagship, and have a nice chat over the capture. It puts us in good +humor, and our vessels _chassee_ around each other till afternoon, when +we separate, to hear shortly that the schooner, on being searched, has +disclosed rich merchandise, gold, Whitworth guns, &c., hidden under her +nominal cargo of salt. So hurra again for our prize list! This _almost_ +makes up for the loss of the steamer. + +As we are on the point of letting go our anchor, the distant boom of +cannon is heard, and the flagship orders us to repair to the seat of +danger with all speed. We haste away, and as we go, hear a third gun +fired. It comes from the direction of the brig Perry, and we cut through +the water toward it, at a twelve-knot rate, for a good half hour, but +hearing no more firing, put in near the shore to watch for the rebel +vessel, as we think those guns were intended to put us on our guard. It +soon grows dark; lights are ordered out, and each man blinds his port. +No talking above a whisper must be heard; we are to be still as an +arctic night. Midnight passes, and lights still flicker along the shore. +It is so dark we cannot see the land, though not more than a mile from +it, and only know what it is by our compass and bearings, and the fires +which lighten up the clouds in spots right over them. One, two, and +three o'clock have passed; no sail or sound yet, and the night so dark +we cannot see a ship's length away. Half past three, and we begin to +heave anchor. The rattle of the chains is just enough to drown the sound +of paddle wheels should a steamer approach, and the sound of her own +wheels would in turn drown our noise; so if one does run in to land, it +may be over us, for any warning we should have of its whereabout. + +Suddenly the acting master jumps, looks for an instant across the bows +into the thick darkness, and bids a boy report to the captain and +lieutenant 'a vessel almost on us.' The man at the windlass is stopped, +unshackles the chain, and lets the anchor go with a buoy attached. +Captain and lieutenant come on deck, and order to blaze away with our +fifty-pound Parrott. Crash! through the still air rings the sharp +report, and the ball goes whizzing through the gloom, in the direction +the vessel was seen. The bright flash of the gun, and the thick cloud of +smoke make the darkness tenfold more impenetrable. For half an hour, we +chase in every direction, then fire again toward the shore. It is just +four; a gray light is working up through the mist, and we catch the +faintest glimpse of the Daylight, one of our fleet. A few minutes later, +and we see a speck near the shore, which the spyglass shows to be the +steamer we chased and fired after in the night. The surf beats about +her; in her frantic efforts to escape, she in the darkness has been run +ashore by our close pursuit. We steam up, to get within range and +destroy, if we cannot take her, when the Daylight, now discovering her, +opens fire. Once, twice, three times she has banged away a broadside at +the rebel sidewheel, and now the batteries on shore in turn open fire on +her. The sea fog hangs like a shroud over and between us and the land, +which looms up mysteriously, stretching its gray length along the +western horizon. Spots of fire bursting from the midst of it, tear +through the fog cloud right at us. It seems, in its vast, vague +undefinedness, rather an old-time dragon, with mouth spouting fire and +thunder, than harmless earth. The smoke of our own guns settles around +us; our ears ring with our own firing: the excitement of the moment is +intense. The jets of flame seem to spout right at one, and the +inclination to dodge becomes very strong. The Daylight has stopped +firing: what is the matter? The fog lifts slightly, and as the flagship +advances to join in the fight, we see that the Daylight is moving back +to reload and let her pass in, which she does, entering the circle of +the rebel fire, between us and them. She finds it out quickly, for their +guns are brought to bear on her, and the balls strike the water +frightfully near. She turns, but, as she leaves the fiery circle, +delivers, one after the other, a whole broadside of guns, followed by +the Penobscot, who too gives them a few iron pills. + +From six to eight A. M., the vessels gather in a cluster at +safe distance from the land, and the commanders of the different vessels +repair on board the flagship to consult what next shall be done. +Meanwhile the spyglass shows crowds of rebels along the shore, and great +efforts seem to be making to get the steamer off. Puffs of steam and +clouds of black smoke from her chimneys show that she is blowing off +steam, firing up, and pushing hard against the shore. Now her paddle +wheels are working; her stern is afloat. Again and again it is reported, +'She's getting herself off the beach; she'll soon be off!' but it does +not appear to hasten the powers that be, who apparently have decided +that, as it will not be high tide till nearly one P. M., she is +safely aground till then. + +Finally, after long delay, it is decided that all hands shall be piped +to breakfast, and we go in for a regular fight afterward. So the +boatswain blows his whistle, and each man goes to his mess. Breakfast is +leisurely gone through with, and then the drum beats all to quarters. +And now it looks like serious work. Men gather round their guns eager +for battle, and the surgeon stands ready, instruments before him, for +whatever may come. But hardly are they ready for the fight, when the +rebel steamer, with its traitor flag floating high in air, has +extricated itself from the beach, and is steaming down the coast as fast +as it can go. The golden opportunity is lost--was lost when the morning +hour was spent in unnecessary discussion, eating, and drinking. Still +they try to make up for lost time by rapid firing now, for she may be +taking in a precious and comforting cargo of arms and other stores of +war. The shots fall close about her, but a little short. Whitworth guns +protect her as she goes, for our steamers dare not venture too near +land, lest some long-range ball smash through their steam chests. The +batteries from which the rebels fired were mostly erected after the +steamer ran ashore, and seemed to consist principally of field pieces +and guns hastily drawn to the spot, with no earthworks to protect them. +This speedy work of theirs was in strong contrast to our slow motions. +With a spyglass we could see telegraph poles stretched along the shore. +The steamer had probably not been ashore one hour, when eight miles +south to the fort, and eight or ten miles north to Wilmington, the news +had spread of its arrival, and busy hands bestirred themselves, dragging +up guns and ammunition to cover their stranded prize. As soon as +sunlight lit up the beach, squads of men were seen pulling at ropes to +work the vessel off the sandy beach. While they were thus engaged, +breakfast was being quietly eaten on board our vessels! We kept up our +fire till the steamer got under the guns of the fort and out of our +reach, and then retired; and so ended our chase in nothing but noise and +smoke. + +We have given the reader a clue to a little of the inefficiency of the +Wilmington blockade. In our next paper, we shall endeavor to picture +some of the effects of naval life on character, and the strange +experiences one can have on shipboard, even in the monotony of life on a +blockader. + + + + +BUCKLE, DRAPER; CHURCH AND STATE. + +_FOURTH PAPER._ + + +In the first paper of this series, reference was made to the Principles +of _Unity_ and _Individuality_ as dominating over distinctive epochs of +the world's progress; and certain characteristics of each epoch were +pointed out which may be briefly recapitulated. Up to a period of time +which is commonly said to commence with the publication of Lord Bacon's +_Novum Organum_, the preponderating tendency in all the affairs of +Society--in Government, in Religion, in Thought, in Practical +Activities--was _convergent_ and toward Consolidation, Centralization, +Order, or, in one word, _Unity_; with a minor reference only to Freedom, +Independence, or Individuality. A change then took place, and the +Tendency to Unity began to yield, as the _major_ or _chief_ tendency in +society, to the opposite or divergent drift toward Disunity or +Individuality, which gradually came to be pre-eminently active. The +Spirit of Disintegration which thus arose, has exhibited and is still +exhibiting itself in Religious affairs, by the destruction of the +integrality of the Church, and its division into numerous sects; and in +the State, by the Democratic principle of popular rule, as opposed to +the Monarchical theory of the supremacy of one. + +We have now arrived, in the course of our development as a race, at the +culminating point of the second Stage of Progress--the Era of +_Individuality_. The predominant tendency of our time in things +Religious, Governmental, Intellectual, and Practical, is toward the +utter rejection of all clogs upon the personal freedom of Man or Woman. +This is seen by the neglect into which institutions of all kinds tend to +fall, and the disrespect in which they are held; in the movements for +the abolition of Slavery and Serfdom; in the recognition of the people's +right of rule, even in Monarchical countries; more radically in the +Woman's Rights Crusade, and in the absolute rejection, by the School of +Reformers known as Individualists, of all governmental authority other +than that voluntarily accepted, as an infringement of the individual's +inherent right of self-sovereignty. + +This Spirit of Individuality, this desire to throw off all trammels, and +to live in the atmosphere of one's own personality, exhibits itself in a +marked degree in the literature of our day. It is the animating spirit +of John Stuart Mill's work 'On Liberty'--a work which, as the writer has +elsewhere shown, was substantially borrowed, although without any openly +avowed acknowledgment of indebtedness, from an American publication. It +is this spirit which has inspired some of the most remarkable of Herbert +Spencer's Essays; and is distinctively apparent in the Fourth one of the +Propositions which Mr. Buckle affirms to be 'the basis of the history of +civilization;' and in the general tenor of Prof. Draper's _Intellectual +Development of Europe_. + +The gist of this doctrine of Individuality, as it is now largely +prevalent in respect to the institutions of the Church and the State, +and which is squarely affirmed in the proposition above mentioned, is +this: Men and Women do not wish nor do they need a Spiritual Society to +teach them what to believe, nor a Political Society to teach them what +to do. If they are simply left alone, they will thrive well enough. An +Ecclesiastical Organization is not only useless, but positively +injurious; it is a decided hinderance to the progress of humanity; and +the same is true of a Civil Organization, except in so far as it serves +the purpose of protection to person and property. + +It is intended to show in this article the erroneousness of this +doctrine; to point out that Religious and Political Institutions have, +in the past, been great aids to human advancement; that they are still +so; and will be in the future. In this manner we shall meet the +arguments of those who regard such institutions as having always been +unnecessary and a hinderance; and of those who, while considering them +as essential in the past, believe that they are now becoming obsolete, +are detrimental to the cause of human progress, and in the future to be +wholly dispensed with. + +Mankind in its entirety resembles a pyramid. At the base are the +ignorant and superstitious nations of the earth, comprising the great +majority of its inhabitants. A step higher includes the next greatest +number of nations, in which the people are less ignorant and less +degraded, but still very low as respects organization and culture. So, +as we rise in the scale of national development, the lines of inclusion +continually narrow, until we reach the apex, occupied by the most +advanced nation or nations. + +That which is true of nations is so of classes and of individuals +composing classes. Every community has its natural aristocracy, its +superior men and women. These constitute the top of the pyramid of +Society; and comprise those in whom intellectual powers, moral purposes, +and practical capacities are most highly developed and combined. Below +them comes the somewhat larger body of persons who are less endowed in +respect to the qualities just enumerated. Below these comes, in turn, +the still greater congregation who are still less gifted; and so on, the +number increasing as the range of general capacity decreases, until we +reach the layer which embodies the great mass of Society; who, though +measurably affectionate, well-intentioned, and docile, are ignorant, +superstitious, and simple minded, wanting in any large degree of high +moral purpose, and constantly prone to the development of the vicious +and depraved passions incident to this lower stratum of life. + +It is evident that to meet the needs of these widely different grades of +individuals, widely different manners, customs, and institutions are +indispensable. Culture, delicacy, and intelligence have their own +attractions, which are wholly diverse from those of crudeness, +coarseness, and simplicity. The surroundings which would bring happiness +to the lover of art or the man of large mental endowment, would render +miserable the peasant who still lacked the development to appreciate the +elegancies of refinement; while the tidy cottage and plain comforts +which might constitute the paradise of the humble and illiterate rustic, +would be utterly inadequate to the requirements of larger and more +highly organized natures. + +The Constitution and Structure of Society should be of such a nature, +therefore, for the purposes of human growth and happiness, as to allow +the needs and wants of every one of its members to be adequately +supplied. As yet there has been no such arrangement of our social +organization. In nations governed by Monarchical or Aristocratic rule, +the institutions of the country are made to satisfy the demands of the +privileged classes; with scarcely any reference to the wants of the +masses. In Democratic communities, the opposite method is adopted; and +the character of their public organizations and of their public +opinion--the latter always the most despotic of institutions--is +determined by the average notions of the middle class, which ordinarily +furnishes the bulk of the voters; with little consideration to the +desires of the higher or the necessities of the lower orders. + +The institutions of any people, civil or religious, are, therefore, +representative, in the main, of the state of development of the dominant +and controlling class in the community. In a Monarchical or Aristocratic +nation it is the upper portion of the body politic whose condition is +chiefly indicated. In this case, the manners, customs, laws, etc., of +the country are _in advance_ of the great body of the people, who have +yet to grow up to them. In Democratic states, the manners, customs, +laws, etc., conform to the stage of advancement which the majority of +the people have reached. They are thus _above_ the level of the lower +classes, who are not sufficiently developed to participate in their full +benefits; and _below_ the capacity of the superior ranks, who, though +fitted for the right use and enjoyment of more liberal and higher social +adaptations, are nevertheless obliged to cramp their natures and dwarf +their activities to the measure of the capacities of the more numerous +circle of citizens. + +Three classes have thus far been named as the _personnel_ of any +Society. There is, however, a body of individuals which, although made +up of persons from the three classes above indicated, constitute, in a +peculiar sense, a distinct order. This includes the Philosophers, Poets, +Scientists--the Thinkers of all kinds--who are in advance of the best +institutions of either Monarchical or Democratic countries; who see +farther into the future than even the great bulk of men of intelligence +and high development; who especially understand the transient nature and +inadequate provisions of existing societies, and feel the need of better +conditions for intellectual, social, and moral growth. + +It is from this body of men that the incentives to progress chiefly +spring. They behold the errors which encumber old systems--they are, +indeed, too apt to conceive them as _wholly_ composed of errors. To +them, the common and current beliefs appear to be simply superstitious. +It irks them that humanity should wallow in its ignorance and blindness. +They chafe and fret against the organizations which embody and foster +what they are firmly convinced is _all_ false. The Church is, in their +eyes, only a vast agglomeration of priests, some of them self-deceived +through ignorance; most of them not so, but deliberately bolstering up +an obsolete faith for place, profit, and power. The State, both as +existing in the past and now, is likewise, in their understanding, a +tremendous engine of tyranny, keeping the light of knowledge from the +masses; withholding liberty; and hindering the prosperity of mankind. + +That there is much truth in such opinions, too much by far, is not to be +denied. That Society needs regeneration in all departments of its +life--political, religious, industrial, and social--is plainly apparent. +But there is an essential omission in the kind of reform which is +spontaneously taking place at this time, and which is lauded by Mill, +Buckle, Spencer, Draper, and the advanced Thinkers of the day generally, +as the true direction in which change should be made; an omission which +will bring Society to disastrous revolution, even, it may be, to fatal +overthrow, unless supplied. + +The tendency of modern reform in reference to the institutions of Church +and State--and these, in the sense in which they are here used, include +all other institutions--is, as has been said, to do away with the former +altogether, and to restrict the latter to the sole functions of +protection of person and property. Reformatory ideas come, it has also +been said, from that small circle of men and women in Society, who are +in advance of the general development of the age even as represented in +the superior class--meaning by this, the class which, in the average +estimate, occupies the highest position; as, for instance, the +Aristocracy in England, and the Wealthy Families of America. + +Human Society, in all its Institutions, has been, thus far in the +history of the world, a thing of spontaneous, instinctual, or automatic +growth. There has never been and is not to-day, so far as is publicly +known, any _Science_ of Social Organization; any System of Laws or +Principles embodying the true mode of Social Construction. There has not +been, in other words, any discovery of the right Principles upon which +the affairs of mankind should be conducted in reference to their mutual +relationships; and hence, there is no real _knowledge_, but only +conjecture, of what are the right relations. _Might_ has always been the +accepted Right and the only Standard of Right in the regulation of +Society. The opinions of the Ruling Power give tone to human thought and +action. While Kings and Oligarchies were in the ascendency, the Standard +of Right--the King's or the Oligarchs' will--were based on his or their +ideas of right. Later, when the People secured the conduct of their own +affairs, the voice of the Majority became the voice of God, as expressed +in the popular motto: _Vox populi, vox Dei_. + +Having then no Standard of true Social Organization, it is natural, +though short sighted, that the reformatory party--perceiving the +insufficiencies and drawbacks of our present Societary Arrangements, +feeling that _they_ have no need of the Governmental and Religious +institutions of the day, that these are, indeed, rather hindrances than +aids to _their_ progress--should think that the people of the whole +world, of the civilized nations, or of one civilized nation, at least, +were in like state of preparation, and that those Institutions could be +safely and advantageously dispensed with. There could scarcely be a +greater mistake. There are but comparatively few individuals in the +world who are so highly developed in their intellectual and moral +capacities, and in practical ability also, as to be competent to be a +law unto themselves in the general conduct of life. The great mass of +mankind, even in the most advanced communities, need still the guiding +hand of a wisely constituted and really paternal Government, and the +religious admonitions of a true priesthood. The greatest danger with +which Society is threatened in modern times, arises from the lack of +these essential concomitants of any high civilization. The degradation, +squalor, ignorance, and brutality of the lowest classes; the +irreverence, disrespect, dishonesty, and moral blindness of the middle +orders; and the apathy, heartlessness, unscrupulousness, selfishness, +cupidity, and irreligion of the upper stratum of Society, are alike due +to the absence of a rightly organized State, which should command the +allegiance, and of a rightly constituted Church, which should absorb the +devotion, of the whole community. + +The Constitution of Society must be moulded with reference to the +character of the individuals in it. Of these, some are sagacious, +executive, intelligent, benevolent, sympathetic, philanthropic, +self-reliant; possessed of all the qualities, in fine, which inspire +respect and confidence in their fellow men, and cause them to be +recognized as leaders. Others are timid, ignorant, feeble-minded, +credulous, prone to lean upon others, hero worshippers; people whose +natural bent it is to follow some one in whom they put faith. The +sentiment of loyalty is inherent in the human breast, and will find an +object whereon to fasten. At one time it is an Alexander; then a +Washington, a Napoleon, or a Wellington; at another, a Clay, a Webster, +or a Grant. There are ranks and orders in Society as there are ranks and +orders among individuals. And as the inherent rank of an _individual_ +is, as a general rule, recognized and accorded, no matter what may be +the social constitution of the land in which he lives, so it is with +_classes_. Theoretically, all individuals and orders are equal in the +United States. But the Law of Nature is stronger than the laws of man; +and the men and women of superior endowment in moral power, intellectual +force, or practical ability, receive the voluntary homage of those who +feel themselves to be inferior. + +In considering the nature of the Institutions which Society needs, we +have simply to consider by what mode we may best provide for the normal +tendencies which ever have been and ever will be active in man. It is +not in our power to change these tendencies, nor to prevent their play. +But we may so order our social polity as to _assist_ their natural +drift, or to _obstruct_ it. In the one case, the affairs of the +community are conducted with harmony, and with the least possible +friction. In the other, they are discordant, and are forced to reach +their proximately proper adjustment through antagonism and struggle. It +is the difference between the ship which flies swiftly to her destined +port with favoring winds, fair skies, and peaceful seas, and one which +struggles wearily to her harbor through adverse gales and stormy waves, +battered, broken, and tempest tossed. The great mass of the people have +always looked to the more highly developed of their race for practical +guidance in the secular concerns of life, and for spiritual guidance in +religious things. That they have done so, and that the Church and the +State have been large factors in the sum of human progress, we shall +presently see. We shall also see brought out more distinctly and clearly +the fact, that the dominant classes in Society, whether the form of +Government be a Monarchy, an Oligarchy, or a Democracy, are, in the +main, and except, perhaps, in transitional epochs, the classes who +possess, in reality, superior capacities of the quality the age most +requires in its leaders. + +In the earliest ages of the world, when brute force was regarded as the +highest attribute of greatness, the men of might, the renowned warriors, +the Nimrods and the Agamemnons, occupied the highest pinnacle of +Society, and received homage from their fellows as supreme men. Of their +age they were the supreme men. To our enlightened epoch, the fighting +heroes of the past are but brutal bullies a little above the level of +the animals whose powers and habits they so sedulously emulated. But if +we plant ourselves in thought back in that savage era, if we reflect +that its habits and instincts were almost wholly physical, that the +chief controlling powers of the time were the arm of might and +superstition, and if we ponder a moment upon the force of will, the +dauntless courage, the inexorable rigor, the terrible energy, the +ceaseless activity, and the gigantic personal strength which must have +combined in a single man to have enabled him to rule so turbulent and so +animal a people; we shall be apt to understand that the only being who +could, in that age, stand first among his fellows, must have been the +superior brute of all. + +If we consider still further the ferocious natures of the men of that +time, we shall perceive the necessity which existed for a strong +Government, regulating all the affairs of Society, and administered by +the most severe and savage chieftain; one who could hold all others in +subjection by the terror of his might, preserve a semblance at least of +order in the community, and protect his subjects from outside wrong. + +But what could hold _him_ in subjection--an irresponsible despot, +without human sympathy, without any awakened sense of moral +responsibility, capricious, self-willed, ambitious, lustful, vindictive, +without self-control, and possessing absolute power over the lives and +property of his subjects? Nothing but the dread of an offended God or +gods. And, as a consolidated despotism, wielded by brute force, was the +best form of Government possible in this age; so a worship based chiefly +upon the incitements and terrors of retributive law--the holding out of +inducements of reward for the good, and of determents of direful +punishment for the wicked, in a future world--was the best religion for +which the time was prepared. + +Tracing the history of the world down to later times, we shall find the +same state of things in society at large, until a period which it is +difficult to fix, but which, we may say, did not fairly begin until the +beginning or the middle of the eighteenth century. Down to that time, +physical force was the dominant element among the nations. The great +warriors were still the prominent men upon the stage of action, though +many of the brutal characteristics of the earlier ages had disappeared. +The people were still ignorant, credulous, childlike, and looked to the +Feudal Aristocracy for direction and support--an Aristocracy founded on +superiority of warlike talent; thus fitly representing the leading +spirit of the age, and the proper guardians of the people in this +warlike time. The Catholic Church, and, at a later period, the +Protestant sects, held the upper classes from oppressing the lower, and +taught the latter to respect and defer to the former. The Feudal Lords +were thus the Social providence and protection of the poor and weak, +thinking and acting for them in things beyond their range of capacity; +while these, in turn, performed the agricultural and other labors to +which they were competent. Each class occupied its appropriate position +and fulfilled its legitimate calling. The superior orders held the +superior situations; and were recognized for what they really were, +leaders and guides. The masses of the community were faithful and +obedient as followers. The Church inspired each with a feeling of +devotion to duty, protected the subject and controlled the ruler. In its +function of a Governmental arrangement, the Feudal System was admirably +adapted to the necessities of the time. In its religious capacity, the +Catholic Church was the bulwark of Social order during the Middle Ages. + +About the period of time mentioned above, the warlike spirit which had +theretofore pervaded the world and controlled its destinies, began to +yield before the enlightenment of civilization. Commercial, industrial, +and intellectual pursuits commenced to assume the leading position among +the interests of Society. At the same time physical force and hereditary +blood began to give way, as tokens of superior character, to +intellectual greatness and executive commercial ability. The struggle +which then commenced between the Aristocracy of Birth and the +Aristocracy of Genius in all its forms, mental or practical, is still +pending in the Old World. In America it has declared itself in favor of +the latter. The only Noblemen here recognized are those of Nature's +make--those who bear in their organizations and culture the stamp of +superiority. These are, in the main, quickly recognized and +acknowledged; whether they exhibit their genius in the field of +Literature, Science, Invention, Government, Religion, Art--or in the +thousand Commercial and Industrial Enterprises which are characteristic +of this era, and especially of this country. + +With the breaking up of the Feudal System and the advent of modern +commercial activities, a great change took place in the organization of +Society. Under this system a community was, as has been indicated, made +up in such a manner that the whole body formed, so to speak, one family, +having mutual interests; each individual performing those functions--for +the benefit of the whole--for which he was, as a general rule, best +fitted. The most warlike, sagacious, executive--those, in short, who +were best capacitated for leaders and protectors, being at the head, and +looking after the welfare of the whole; while others occupied such +stations and rendered such services as their qualifications made them +adequate to, in subordination to these leaders. Thus the interests of +community were linked immediately together. They formed a grand +Cooeperative Association, in which each member recognized his obligations +to the whole body of associates, and to every individual associate, _and +measurably fulfilled those obligations as they were understood at that +day_. The poor were not left to fall into starvation and misery for the +want of work; there were no paupers; and the rich and powerful classes +did not neglect the affairs of the indigent and weak as those who had no +claim upon them. On the contrary, they felt that mankind were the +children of one Father, and their brethren. They felt that their +superior powers devolved upon them accompanying responsibilities; that +because they were comparatively far seeing and strong, they were bound +by all the nobler sentiments of manhood to watch over and guide the +short sighted and the feeble. Under the inspiration of the Catholic +Church--a Church whose persistent efforts were ever devoted in a marked +degree to the amelioration of the physical no less than the spiritual +conditions of humanity, a Church which strove in the darkest hours of +its history and always to stand between the helpless and suffering and +their oppressors--they accepted this office and fulfilled its functions. +To the beat of their understanding--with the light they then had, +considering the times in which they lived, and the state of the world's +progress--they executed well and faithfully the duties which pertained +to it. Far better, indeed, as we shall presently see, than the opulent +and powerful perform the same duties in our day. + +With the commencement of more peaceful times and the gradual +civilization of Society, the necessity of personal protection which had, +in great measure, given rise to the Feudal System, passed away. Civil +law acquired the protective power which had formerly resided in the arm +of physical force. Travel became safe. The accumulations of industry +were less liable to be wrenched from their legitimate owner by the hand +of the robber. There was a rapid opening up of intelligence among the +masses. Individual energy was stimulated. Commerce received a wonderful +impetus. The bounds of personal freedom were enlarged. Men felt no +longer the necessity of association for the sake of safety. They felt, +moreover, the restless surging of new-born powers within them; and +longed to give them exercise. So the old forms of community life were +slowly broken up. Individuals embarked in various enterprises; now no +longer consociated with others in mutual cooeperation, but for their +individual benefit. Thus _competitive_ industry gradually supplanted the +old method of _cooeperative_ or _associated_ industry, as seen in its +crude and imperfect form, and the inauguration of the false and selfish +system which still prevails began. + +There could be but one result to a mode of commercial and industrial +traffic and a system of labor and wages which pits the various classes +of Society together in a strife for the wealth of the world, the +fundamental principle of which strife is, _that it is perfectly right to +take advantage of the necessities of our neighbors in order to obtain +their means for our own enrichment_. + +For this was the principle which instinctively sprang up in the world as +the basis of business, and which has never been changed. Traffic +originated in the necessities of life, and was extended by the desire to +obtain wealth. Each individual perceived some want in his neighbor, and +forthwith proceeded to supply this want, _charging just as much for the +thing supplied as the desire for the article or his need of it would +force the person supplied to pay; without reference to the equitable +price, estimated with respect to the labor bestowed in supplying the +want_. This principle of trade, originating in the most complete +selfishness, and, viewed from any high moral point, both unjust and +dishonest, has always been and is to-day the fundamental principle of +our Political Economy. That 'a thing is worth what it will bring,' is a +basic axiom of all trade. The only price which is recognized in commerce +is the market price; which is, again, what a commodity will bring. What +a commodity will bring is what the necessities of mankind will make them +pay. Thus is exhibited the curious spectacle of the existence of a +Religion which inculcates good will and love to our neighbor as the +foundation of all true civilization and virtue, coexisting side by side +with a Commercial System, a relic, like slavery, of ancient barbarism, +which forces all men to traffic with each other on the principle that +our neighbor is an object of legitimate prey. + +Of course, in a System of Competitive Industry thus carried on, the +wealth of the world would fall into the hands of those of superior +powers; while the feeble, the stolid, and the ignorant would be left +poor and helpless. And, as the different classes of the community would +be no longer directly associated with each other in their labors and +interests, but would be, on the contrary, competitors--and as the fact +that there had been free competition would be held by all classes to +absolve them from any responsibility as to each other's welfare--it +would inevitably result that the weaker orders should fall into +indigence, degradation, wretchedness, starvation, and premature death. + +Such has been the case. With the advent of Competitive Industry in +Europe and America--to confine ourselves to these countries--with the +disintegration of the Social System in which the different classes were +associated in mutually dependent and cooeperative efforts; with the +abrogation, on the part of the superior body of citizens, of all +responsibility for, and direct interest in, the affairs and comfort of +the lower orders, has come Pauperism, Social Instability, and a degree +of misery and depravity among the poorest of the masses, never before +known in the history of the world, all things being taken into +consideration. It is a well-known saying of Political Economists, that +the rich are daily growing richer, and the poor poorer. It might be +added with truth: and more degraded and dangerous. + +The effects of this method of Competitive Industry upon the higher +classes have been scarcely less injurious, though in a different +direction. It has bred an intense selfishness and an apathy in respect +to the sufferings of others which no lover of his race can contemplate +without emotions of anguish. Not only is the idea of any effort for the +permanent relief of the poorer classes, for taking them under special +care and making their welfare the business of Society, not entertained +by any large number of persons; but those who do feel keenly the +necessity of such a step, and whose sympathies are aroused by the +sufferings of the masses around them, are too deeply imbued with the +ease-loving spirit of the age, too much wedded to their own comfort, to +take any active measures for the realization of their desires, or to +forego their momentary interests to secure them. + +The rich heap up riches by the iniquitous trade-system which drifts the +earnings of the laborers into their net, and are dead to the call of +those whom they are, unconsciously in most cases, defrauding. Nay! they +even struggle to wring from them the largest possible amount of work for +the smallest possible pay! Day by day they grow more exacting as they +grow wealthier; day by day the laboring orders sink into more harassing +and hopeless conditions. Had the functions of Government in our own +country and in England been those only of protection to persons and +property; had not the general and local authorities in some degree +assisted the oppressed toilers; had not the Church by her admonitions +and pleadings kept some sparks of feeling alive in the breast of the +people of this money-getting age, and stimulated somewhat their +benevolence, the laboring classes of England and America would long +since have sunk to utter destitution. Nor would this have been all. For +when the mass of the people reach such a point; when they are driven to +despair, as they are now fast being driven, and would long ago have been +driven but for the circumstances stated, then comes the terrible +reaction, the frightful revolution, the upheaval of all order, anarchy, +and--who shall tell what else? The Riot of July is still ringing its +solemn warning--all unheeded--in the ears of this people. Society has +yet and speedily to lift the masses out of their ignorance, poverty, +squalor, and accompanying brutality, or to sink awfully beneath their +maddened retaliation. + +In thus criticizing the Industrial Polity of modern times as, in the +respects indicated, inferior to that of the Feudal System, the writer +does not wish to be understood as affirming any more than is really +said. The idea which it is desired to express is this: that the plan +upon which this system was founded--the mutual interdependence of +classes and their reciprocally cooeperative labor--was far superior to +the method of Competitive Industry now in vogue; and the true type--when +rightly carried out, without the drawbacks and the evils of the Feudal +System--of Social organization. That there are compensations in our +modern mode, and that, on the whole, Society advances in adopting it, is +true. But it will take a further step in advance when it reverts to that +plan on the footing above indicated; when it adopts the _plan_ without +the evils which in an ignorant and undeveloped age necessarily +accompanied it. + +It has not been forgotten that the Church has arrayed itself, to no +small extent, against the advent of new knowledge; that the State has +suppressed the enlarging tendencies of individual liberty; and that both +have been, in this way and in other ways, as Mr. Buckle and Professor +Draper have clearly shown, clogs upon the hurrying wheels of the +nations. It is precisely because they _have_ been and _are_ still so, +that they served and do serve the cause of progress. + +It has been previously stated that new truths come from the body of +advanced Thinkers, who constitute a fourth and comparatively small class +in the community. The discoverer of a new truth sees the immense +advantages which would accrue to Society from a knowledge of it, and is +eager for its immediate promulgation and acceptance; and, if it be of a +practical nature, for its incorporation into the working principles of +the Social polity. This may be true. But there is another verity of +equal importance, which ordinarily he does not take into consideration, +namely: that the great mass of the people who form Society are not +prepared for the change which he contemplates. They comprehend and act +more slowly than the Thinkers. The novelty must be brought home to their +understandings gradually, and assimilated. Old forms of thought, old +associations, encrusted prejudices, the deep-seated opinions of years +must be modified before the new will find a lodgment in their +convictions. + +It is well that the Thinker should urge with impetuous and ardent zeal +his side of the case; that he should insist upon the immediate +adjustment of thought or activity in accordance with advanced right. It +is true that he will not instantly succeed. It is equally true that, +with human nature and Society as they now are, he would destroy all +order if he did. Men can live only in that portion of truth which they +are competent to appreciate. Place the Indian in the heated city, and +make him conform to the usages of city life, he pines and dies. If it +were possible to take away from the ignorant and child-minded races of +the earth or portions of community their superstitious faith, and +substitute the higher truths of a more spiritual interpretation, yet +would they not subserve their religious purposes. So, when the new +verity is held up to view, to the great mass who cannot understand it, +it is no truth, but a lie. They oppose it. Thus the discovery becomes +known. Discussion excites new thought. The Thinkers array themselves +upon one side, urging forward; the State and the Church, representing +the body of Society, take the other, standing sturdily still, or +hesitating, doubting either the validity of the alleged truth or its +uses. Between the clash of contending opinions the new ideas take shape +in the awakened minds which are prepared for them. These come shortly to +be the majority. The State and the Church gradually and imperceptibly +modify their methods or their creeds; and so, safely and without +disaster, humanity takes a step in advance. + +It would be better, indeed, if this slow process were not necessary. +When the whole scope of Fundamental Truths is apprehended; when a +Science of the Universe is known; when truth is no longer fragmentary; +and when there is mutual confidence and cooeperation among the different +classes of community, it will not be necessary. But until then, any +attempt to force an instantaneous acceptance of new truths or an +immediate inauguration of new methods upon the mass of the people will +only serve, if successful, to overthrow order in Society, and introduce +Social anarchy in its stead. From such an attempt came the chaos of the +French Revolution;--from an endeavor to inaugurate ideas essentially +correct among a people noway ready to comprehend them rightly. The +Conservative Element is as essential to the well-being of society as the +Progressive. To eliminate either is to destroy its balanced action; and +to give it over to stagnation on the one hand, or to frenzy on the +other. The Thinkers of the past have done, and those of the present are +doing, good work for humanity, on the Progressive side. The Church and +the State of the past have done, the Church and the State of the present +are doing, good work for humanity, on the Conservative side. Through the +instrumentality of the Thinkers, the Church, and the State, the world +has been brought slowly, steadily, and safely along the path of +progress, now gaining in one way, and now in another; at times +abandoning one line of advance, only to go ahead upon a different one; +yet always moving onward, and standing to-day, in spite of its seeming +retrogressions, at the highest point of development which it has ever +touched. + +The Church and the State of the future will be the subject of subsequent +consideration. + + + + +LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. + +For months that followed the triumph the rebels had boasted they wrought, +But which lost to them Chattanooga, thus bringing their triumph to nought; +The mountain-walled citadel city, with its outposts in billowy crowds, +Grand soarers among the lightnings, stern conquerors of the clouds! +For months, I say, had the rebels, with the eyes of their cannon, looked + down +From the high-crested forehead of Lookout, from the Mission's long sinuous + crown +Till GRANT, our invincible hero, the winner of every fight! +Who joys in the strife, like the eagle that drinks from the storm delight! +Marshalled his war-worn legions, and, pointing to them the foe, +Kindled their hearts with the tidings that now should be stricken the blow, +The rebel to sweep from old Lookout, that cloud-post dizzily high, +Whence the taunt of his cannon and banner had affronted so long the sky. + +Brave THOMAS the foeman had brushed from his summit the nearest, and now +The balm of the midnight's quiet soothed Nature's agonized brow: +A midnight of murkiest darkness, and Lookout's dark undefined mass +Heaved grandly a frown on the welkin, a barricade nothing might pass. +Its breast was sprinkled with sparkles, its crest was dotted in gold, +Telling the camps of the rebels secure as they deemed in their hold. +Where glimmered the creek of the Lookout, it seemed the black dome of the + night +Had dropped all its stars in the valley, it glittered so over with light: +There were voices and clashings of weapons, and drum beat and bugle and + tramp, +Quick flittings athwart the broad watchfires that spotted the grays of the + camp: +Dark columns would glimmer and vanish, a rider flit by like a ghost; +There was movement all over the valley, the movement and din of a host. + +'Twas the legion so famed of the 'White Star,' and led on by GEARY the + brave, +That was chosen to gather the laurel or find on the mountain a grave. +They crossed the dim creek of the Lookout, and toiled up the sable ascent, +Till the atoms black crawling and struggling in the dense upper darkness + were blent. +Mists, fitful in rain, came at daydawn, they spread in one mantle the + skies, +And we that were posted below stood and watched with our hearts in our + eyes; +We watched as the mists broke and joined, the quick flits and the blanks of + the fray; +There was thunder, but not of the clouds; there was lightning, but redder + in ray; +Oh, warm rose our hopes to the 'White Star,' oh, wild went our pleadings + to heaven; +We knew, and we shuddered to know it, how fierce oft the rebels had + striven; +We saw, and we shuddered to see it, the rebel flag still in the air; +Shall our boys be hurled back? God of Battles! oh, bring not such bitter + despair! + +But the battle is rolling still up, it has plunged in the mantle o'erhead, +We hear the low hum of the volley, we see the fierce bomb-burst of red; +Still the rock in the forehead of Lookout through the rents of the windy + mist shows +The horrible flag of the Crossbar, the counterfeit rag of our foes: +Portentous it looks through the vapor, then melts to the eye, but it tells +That the rebels still cling to their stronghold, and hope for the moment + dispels. +But the roll of the thunder seems louder, flame angrier smites on the eye, +The scene from the fog is laid open--a battle field fought in the sky! +Eye to eye, hand to hand, all are struggling;--ha, traitors! ha, rebels, + ye know +Now the might in the arm of our heroes! dare ye bide their roused terrible + blow? +They drive them, our braves drive the rebels! they flee, and our heroes + pursue! +We scale rock and trunk--from their breastworks they run! oh, the joy of + the view! + +Hurrah, how they drive them! hurrah, how they drive the fierce rebels + along! +One more cheer, still another! each lip seems as ready to burst into song. +On, on, ye bold blue-coated heroes! thrust, strike, pour your shots in + amain! +Banners fly, columns rush, seen and lost in the quick, fitful gauzes of + rain. +Oh, boys, how your young blood is streaming! but falter not, drive them + to rout! +From barricade, breastwork, and riflepit, how the scourged rebels pour out! +We see the swift plunge of the caisson within the dim background of haze, +With the shreds of platoons inward scudding, and fainter their batteries + blaze; +As the mist curtain falls all is blank; as it lifts, a wild picture out + glares, +A wild shifting picture of battle, and dread our warm hopefulness shares; +But never the braves of the 'White Star' have sullied their fame in defeat, +And they will not to-day see the triumph pass by them the foeman to greet! + +No, no, for the battle is ending; the ranks on the slope of the crest +Are the true Union blue, and our banners alone catch the gleams of the + west, +Though the Crossbar still flies from the summit, we roll out our cheering + of pride! +Not in vain, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! have ye died! +One brief struggle more sees the banner, that blot on the sky, brushed + away, +When the broad moon now basking upon us shall yield her rich lustre to-day: +She brings out the black hulk of Lookout, its outlines traced sharp in + the skies, +All alive with the camps of our braves glancing down with their numberless + eyes. +See, the darkness below the red dottings is twinkling with many a spark! +Sergeant Teague thinks them souls of the rebels red fleeing from ours in + the dark; +But the light shocks of sound tell the tale, they are battle's fierce + fireworks at play! +It is slaughter's wild carnival revel bequeathed to the night by the day. + +Dawn breaks, the sky clears--ha! the shape upon Lookout's tall crest that + we see, +Is the bright beaming flag of the 'White Star,' the beautiful Flag of the + Free! +How it waves its rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open + eye, +With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors + to vie! +'Hurrah!' rolls from Moccasin Point, and 'Hurrah!' from bold Cameron's + Hill! +'Hurrah!' peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill! + +Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during Time +Shall stand this, your column of glory, shall shine this, your triumph + sublime! +To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climbed, drove him to + bay, +Then fought the fierce foe till he turned and fled, bleeding and gnashing, + away! +Fled away from the scene where so late broke his growls and he shot down + his glare, +As he paced to and fro, for the hunter his wild craggy cavern to dare! + +Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! ye girded your souls to the fight, +Drew the sword, dropped the scabbard, and went in the full conscious + strength of your might! +Now climbing o'er rock and o'er tree mound, up, up, by the hemlock ye + swung! +Now plunging through thicket and swamp, on the edge of the hollow ye hung! +One hand grasped the musket, the other clutched ladder of root and of + bough: +The trunk the tornado had shivered, the landmark pale glimmering now, +And now the mad torrent's white lightning;--no drum tapped, no bugle + was blown-- +To the words that encouraged each other, and quick breaths, ye toiled up + alone! +Oh, long as the mountains shall rise o'er the waters of bright Tennessee, +Shall be told the proud deeds of the 'White Star,' the cloud-treading host + of the free! +The camp-fire shall blaze to the chorus, the picket-post peal it on high, +How was fought the fierce battle of Lookout--how won THE GRAND FIGHT OF + THE SKY! + + + + +ONE NIGHT. + + +I. + +From the window at which I write, in these November days, I see a muddy, +swollen river, spread over the meadows into a dingy lake; it is not a +picturesque or a pretty stream, in spite of its Indian name. Beyond it +the land slopes away into a range of long, low hills, which the autumn +has browned; the long swaths of fog stretching between river and hill +are so like to them and to the dissolving gray sky that they all blend +in one general gloom. This picture filling my eye narrows and shapes +itself into the beginning of my story: I see a lazy, dirty river on the +outskirts of a manufacturing city; where the stream has broadened into a +sort of pond it is cut short by the dam, and there is a little cluster +of mills. They all belong to one work, however, and they look as if they +had been set down there for a few months only; 'contract' seems written +all over them, and very properly, for they are running on a Government +order for small arms. There is no noise but an underhum of revolving +shafts and the smothered thud of trip hammers. Ore dust blackens +everything, and is scattered everywhere, so that the whole ground is a +patchwork of black and gray; elsewhere there is snow, but here the snow +is turned to the dingy color of the place. It is very quiet outside, +being early morning yet; a cold mist hides the dawn, and the water falls +with a winter hiss; the paths are indistinct, for the sky is only just +enough lightening to show the east. + +The coal dust around one door shows that the fires are there; a +cavernous place, suddenly letting a lurid glow out upon the night, and +then black again. It is only a narrow alley through the building, making +sure of a good draft; on one side are the piles of coal, and on the +other a row of furnace doors. The stoker is sitting on a heap of +cinder. He is only an old man, a little stooping, with a head that is +turning ashes color; his eye is faded, and his face nearly +expressionless, while he sits perfectly still on the heap, as if he were +a part of the engine which turns slowly in a shed adjoining and pants +through its vent in the roof. He has been sitting there so long that he +has a vague notion that his mind has somehow gone out of him into the +iron doors and the rough coal, and he only goes round and round like the +engine. Yet he never considered the matter at all, any more than the +engine wanted to use its own wheel, which it turned month after month in +the same place, to propel itself through the world; just so often he +opened and shut each door in its turn, fed the fires, and then sat down +and sat still. + +He was looking at a boy of six, asleep at his feet on a pile of ashes +and cinder, which was not so bad a bed, for the gentle heat left in it +was as good as a lullaby, and Shakspeare long ago told us that sleep has +a preference for sitting by hard pillows. The child was an odd bit of +humanity. An accident at an early age had given it a hump, though +otherwise it was fair enough; and now perhaps society would have seen +there only an animal watching its sleeping cub. Presently the boy woke +and got on his feet, and began to walk toward the cold air with short, +uncertain steps, almost falling against a furnace door. The old man +jumped and caught him. + +'Ta, ta, Nobby,' he said, 'what's thou doin'? Them's hotter nor cender. +Burnt child dreads fire--did knowst 'twas fire?' + +He had a sort of language of his own, and his voice was singularly +harsh, as if breathing in that grimy place so long had roughened his +throat. + +'There, go, Nobby, look thee out an' see howst black she is. Ta, but +it's hawt,' and he rubbed his forehead with his sleeve; 'it's a deal +pity this hot can nawt go out where's cold, an' people needin' it. +Here's hot, there's cold, but 'twill stay here, as it loved the place +'twas born--home, like. Why, Net, that thee?' + +There was no door to the place to knock at or open, but the craunch of a +foot was heard on the coal outside, and a girl came in, moist and +shivering. The stoker set her down in a warm corner, and looked at her +now. + +'Is thee, my little Net?' he repeated. + +'Yes, and I've brought your breakfast, father; 'twas striking six before +I come in.' + +'Too early, my girl, sleep her sleep out. Here's hot an' cosey like, an' +time goes, an' I could wait for breakfast, till I'm home. I'll nawt let +my little girl's sleep.' + +'No, father, I couldn't sleep after five, anyway; and I thought I must +bring your breakfast to-day. You'll walk back through the cold easier +after something hot to eat.' + +'That's my dear little girl. Shiverin' yet, she is. There, lay down on +this,' raking out a heap of fresh ashes, 'them warm an' soft like, an' +go ye to sleep till I go.' + +'No, I must heat your coffee,' she answered, steadying the pot before +one of the furnaces with bits of coal. + +''Ware that door doan' fly back an' hurt ye; them does so sometimes.' + +'Yes, I'll be careful. Why, you've got Whitney here!' + +'He come down to-night, Net. By himself, somehow, though I doan' knaw +how Lord kep' his short feet from the river bank an' the floom. An' he +couldn't go back, nor I couldn't go with him. He's slep' on the cender, +nice; all's a cradle to Nobby.' + +'Yes, cinder's a good bed, when the eyes are shut,' said the girl, +bitterly. 'The coffee was smoking hot when I started, but it's cold out +this morning, so there's all this to be done over.' + +'Yes, outdoors has cooled it. The world was hungry, like, an' wanted to +eat it. Small nubbin' for all the world, but it stole the hot an' the +smell o' the meat.' + +The girl did not reply to this bit of pleasantry. She was about +eighteen, and her face would have been strikingly pretty except for the +eager, hungering look of the eye; but in every motion, every look, and +even the way in which she wore her neat and simple clothing, there was +the word 'unsatisfied.' + +Finally, she brought coffee and meat to him. + +'Here, Net, take ye a sip,' said he; ''twill warm ye nice. Shiverin' yet +she is; 'deed the mornin's clammy cold; there's naw love in thet. Drink! +I cawnt take ye home so, an' my time's most up; it's gettin' light.' + +But she refused it, and sat and watched him as he ate, never taking her +eyes from his face. + +'Father,' she presently said, 'what do you do here?' + +The old stoker laughed: 'Do, my girl? Why, keep up the fires. It's like +I'm a spoke in a wheel or summut. I keeps the fires, an' the fires makes +the angeen go, an' thet turns the works thet makes the pistols, so't +folks may kill theirsel's. There's naw peace anywheres in the world.' + +'I didn't mean that; but what do you do the rest of the time? Don't you +think? Aren't you tired of this place, father?' + +'Sometimes it's like I think so; but how's the use, my Net? Here's +rough, an' here's rough too,' touching his chest. 'On smooth floors, +such as I couldn't work, if we could get there. How's the use o' bein' +tired? We've got to keep steady at summut. It's best to be content, like +Nobby there; cender's as good a bed as the king's got.' + +'Well, if you _were_ tired, you're going to rest now, so I wish you +were.' + +'What's that mean?' + +'You've got through here, that's all,' cried the girl, with a smothered +sob. + +He set down his pot of coffee and his pail: 'Who told ye so?' he +demanded. + +'Margery Eames.' + +Catching the girl's hand, the old man half dragged her through the +opening into a yard devoted to coal storage. Picking their way through +the spotted mire, they entered a shed where trip hammers were pounding +in showers of sparks, stepped over a great revolving shaft, and came to +a stairway; up, up, to the fifth floor, where the finishing rooms were. + +Faint daylight was straggling through the narrow windows, and most of +the lamps were out, those that were burning being very sickly, as if +they did it under protest. A number of women were employed here, because +much of the work was merely automatic, and just now men were scarce and +women would work cheaper. The women were coarse and rough, rather the +scum of the city--perhaps some might have fallen; but the place was +noisome and grimy, with a sickening smell of oil everywhere, repulsive +enough to be fit for any workers. + +The stoker and his daughter walked to the farther end, and came to where +a little group of women were sitting round a bench; one of the group +tipped a wink to the rest. + +'How's coal an' fires now, Adam?' she said. + +'Did ye tell my girl anythin'?' he demanded. + +'Of course I did.' + +'What was't then?' + +'Well,' said she, wiping her greasy hands on the bosom of her dress, 'I +watched on the road for her this morning, an' I told her.' + +'_What?_' + +'I told her she needn't try to put on airs, she was only a stoker's +daughter, an' he'll not have that place any more.' + +'Did ye knaw she didn't knaw't?' + +'Yes. What do you care, old dusty? She's got a good place.' + +'Yes, she has, Lord's good for't.' + +'Shall we fight it out, Adam? Hold on till I wipe my hands.' + +'Nawt till one can fight by hersel', Margery. I forgive yer spite, an' +hope Lord woan' bring it back to ye ever. What's said can nawt be +helped. Come, Net.' + +'You're a mean creature, Margery, to tell him that,' said one, after +they were gone. 'I expected to hear you tell him about the place his +girl's got. Lord! he's innocent as a baby about it, an' thinks she's on +the way up, while everybody else knows it, an' knows it's the way down.' + +''Tis that,' said Margery, 'but I've that much decency that I didn't say +it. Let the old man take one thing at a time; he'll know it soon enough +when she fetches up at the bottom.' + +'What did you want to trouble old Adam for?' + +'Because I did!' cried the woman, with a sudden flash; 'because I like +to hurt people. _I've_ been struck, an' stabbed, an' bruised, an' +seared, an' people pointin' fingers at me, whose heart wasn't fouler'n +theirs, if my lips were. It's all cut an' slash in the world, an' the +only way to get on with pain when you're hit, is to hit somebody else. +I'd rather find a soft spot in somebody than have a dollar give me, +sure's my name's Margery. What business has he to have any feelin's, +workin' year after year down there in the coal? Why haven't people been +good to _me_? I never come up here into this grease; people sent me; an' +when hit's the game I'll do my part. I hope his girl's a comfort to him; +he'll be proud enough of her some time, you see.' + +Adam seated his girl again, opened the doors one after another, and +raked and fed the fires; then he shut them, and stood his rake in the +corner, and seated himself. + +'Well, it's come out,' he said; 'but I didn't mean ye should know, yet. +Margery's ill willed, but it's like she didn't think.' + +'I oughtn't to have told you till after to-morrow, father.' + +'There's how't seems hard, thet it must come to Christmas. An' when I've +been here so long, twenty year noo, Net.' + +'Oh, don't call me that any more, father; I don't like it.' + +'Why nawt, little girl? What should I call her? You used to love to hear +it.' + +'Not now, not now,' said the girl, in a choking voice, 'not to-day, not +till Christmas is over. Call me Jane.' + +'Yes, twenty year ago I come here, an' I've been settin' on them piles +o' cender ever sence. 'Deed I most love them doors an' the rake an' +poker. I've hed my frets about it sometimes, but I doan' want to go +though.' + +'And I say it's a shame in them to use you so!' cried the girl. 'Making +their money hand over hand, and to go and grudge you this ash hole, for +the sake of saving! They'll get no good from such reckoning. I wish +their cruel old mill would burn down!' + +'No, Jane, hold hersel'! Here's fire--should _I_ do it?' + +'It's Cowles's work. I hate him.' + +'The mill's their own, Jane; they gev me what they liked; I've no claim. +Mr. Cowles do as he think best for t'mill.' + +'Then to do it just now! I hope _his_ dinner'll be sweet.' + +'I nawt meant my girl to knaw't till Christmas wor done. But ye'll nawt +mind it, Jane, ye'll nawt! We'll nawt lose Christmas, too, for it come +for us. Mr. Cowles doan' own _thet_. We'll hev thet anyhow, an' keep it. +She'll nawt fret hersel', my little girl!' + +Jane did not answer. + +'We'll get on somehoo, Lord knaws hoo. We never starved yet, an' you've +got a good place. It'll all be right, an' Christmas day to-morrow!' + +'I got a good place! Oh, father!' + +'Why, Jane, I thought so. Doan' they use her well?' + +'Yes, they do,' quickly answered the girl; 'I don't know why I spoke +so. I'm a bit discontented, perhaps, but don't you fear for me, father; +and we mustn't fret--anyway, till after to-morrow.' + +'She's nawt content, is she?' said the stoker, settling his head into +his hands. 'I've hed my frets, too, alone here, thinkin' summut like I +should liked to knaw books, an' been defferent, but it's like I'd nawt +been content. Lord knows. 'Deed I loves them doors an' the old place +here, but seems as if summut was sayin' there's better things; it's like +there is, but nawt for such as me. I doan' care for mysel', but I'd like +to hev more to gev my little girl.' + +'You give me all you've got, father, and I ought to be satisfied. But +I'm not--it's not your blame, father, but I know I'm not,' she said, +with sudden energy. 'I don't know what I want; it's something--it seems +as if I was hungry.' + +'Nawt hungry, Jane! She's nawt starvin'!' + +'No, I don't want any more to eat, nor better clothes,' she said, +getting out the words painfully. 'It's something else; I can't tell what +it is, unless I'm hungry.' + +'Well, I knaw I doan' understan' her,' said the man sadly. 'I doan' knaw +my little girl. Is it _him_ she's thinkin' of?' + +The fire-glow on the girl's face hid any change that may have come +there, and she only drew a little farther away, without answering. + +'I've nawt seen many people, Jane, but sometimes I likes an' dislikes, +as Nobby does, an' I doan' like _him_. An' I doan' like him to be nigh +my girl; there's naw truth in him. I wish she'd say she'll hev naw more +speech with him.' + +'No, no, father, don't ask me that. I don't care for him, but I can't +promise not to speak to him--I do! I do! Oh, father!' sobbed the girl, +'everything comes at once!' + +The old man drew her head on his knee, and even his rough voice grew +softer, talking to his 'little girl.' He bent and kissed her. + +'I wish 'twere nawt so,' he said; 'but mebbe I'm wrong. Lord keep my +little girl, an' we'll nawt fret, but be happy to-morrow.' + +Another man came in with a big tread. It was the engineer, a hale, burly +fellow, with a genuine, rollicking kindness. He tossed the boy into the +air, pinched Jane's cheek, and gave his morning salutation in several +lusty thumps on the stoker's back. + +'Rippin' day this'll be, Adam,' said he; 'say t'won't, an' I'll shake +your ribs loose. Just such a day's I like to breathe in; an' when I've +set all night in my chair there, not sleepin' of course, but seein' that +everlastin' old crosshead go in an' out, an' that wheel turnin' away +just so fast an' no faster, I swear I do go to sleep with my eyes open; +an' when it gets light such a day's this, I get up an' shake +myself--this fashion,' giving him an extra jerk. 'Keep up heart, Adam; I +know it, an' I don't know what Cowles is thinkin' of. I don't want to +crowd you out, an' you ought to be the last one to go. I'd quit 'em for +it myself, afford it or not, only 'twon't do you no good.' + +'Merry Christmas, Mr. Grump!' cried Nobby, rubbing his eyes. + +'You've slept over, my young 'un,' laughed the engineer; 'you're one day +ahead. Of course the palty mill must run to-morrow. Mine don't, I +warrant. My machinery runs on a fat turkey, twenty pound if he's an +ounce. That's me.' + +'Yes, and we've got a turkey too,' chimed Nobby. + +'I warrant you have. An' he had as good an appetite when he was alive as +anybody else's turkey; them fellows do gobble their grub quite +conscientiously, fattin' 'emselves without knowin' or carin' whether +rich or poor'll eat 'em. _I'll_ bet yours's as fat an' good's Mr. +Prescott's, or old Cowles's--damn him! No, I don't mean quite that, so +near Christmas, but he ought to be choked with his own dinner, I'll say +that. Keep up good heart, Adam; an' now clear out, every one! cut home +to yer breakfasts! My watch now, and' I won't have one of ye +round--scud! or wait a minute an' I'll pitch ye out.' + + +II. + +After his breakfast, Adam walked back to the factory. He was wondering, +as he went along, why they should begin with him if they wanted to save +expense. Eighteen dollars a month was a good deal to him, but what was +it to the mill? Every turn of the water wheel, he thought, made more +money than his day's wages. But possibly Mr. Prescott had found out that +his son fancied Jane, and meant to drive them out of town. The very day +that Mr. Prescott saw him first, Mr. Cowles, the manager, told him he +wasn't needed any longer, that the under engineer would see to the +fires. That was punishing him for another's fault--just the way with +rich men; and for a while he almost hated Mr. Prescott. + +Adam Craig had had a peculiar life, as he thought. He wanted education, +money, and such other things, besides something to eat and wear; but +they never came to him, and he drifted into a place at the machine +shops, and got the stamp put on him, and then went his round year after +year with less and less thought of stepping out of it. Yet he always +believed he once had some uncommon stuff in him, and he claimed his own +respect for having had it, even if he had lost it now; he had his own +way of proving it too. His wife was the mirror by which he judged +himself. She was a German woman, whom he found in the city hospital; or +rather she found him, shot through the throat by the accidental +discharge of a rifle. She was just from the fatherland, and could not +speak a word of English; with his swollen head he could not speak at +all; but she watched him through it, and by the signs of that language +which is common to all nations, they managed to understand each other, +and signalized the day of his recovery by marrying. This was the pride +of Adam's whole life, and convinced him he was made capable of being +somebody; he held his wife to be a superior woman, and her appreciation +was a consolation that never left him. 'She knawed me,' he used to say, +'she saw into me better nor I did.' And though he would talk stoutly +sometimes for democracy, he had an odd notion that marrying a +Continental European gave him some sort of distinction; and all his +troubled talks with himself ended in his saying: 'Ah, well, if I'd been +born in Germany, I might been somebody.' + +Adam watched for Mr. Cowles most of the forenoon, determined to ask +about his dismissal; at last the manager strolled through the shops, and +Adam made a desperate effort, and went to him. He turned short about, as +the stoker spoke. + +'Mr. Cowles, was ye told to send me away?' + +'Told! Who should tell me?' + +'But I thought--I thought Mr. Prescott might said summut--' + +'Do you suppose he concerns himself about you? I'm master here, and I +don't ask what I shall do.' + +Adam took hope: 'Hev ye said sure I must go, Mr. Cowles? I've been here +so long, an' noo I'm old. I've got gray at t'mill,' touching his head as +he spoke. + +'You've had your wages regular, haven't you?' said Cowles, roughly. 'I +don't inquire how long you've been here. Would I keep an old lathe that +was worn or that I had no use for, because I'd had it a good while? Stay +round to-day, if you like, and then go.' + +'But eighteen dollars is nawt much to t'mill,' said Adam, humbly; 'doan' +be hard, an' gev me a chance, a chance to help mysel'! T'winter's hard, +an' I've a family!' + +'Did I make your family? You should have thought of that long ago. Stand +out of the way, if you're done.' + +The stoker clung to the doorpost. + +'Summut else I could do--there must be summut--ye knaw summut else, Mr. +Cowles?' + +'Something else to do, you fool! What could you do--run the engine? tend +the planers? If I wanted you at all, I should keep you where you were.' + +He moved off at this. Adam seated himself on the familiar cinder heaps +and grieved in his simple way, for a time feeling almost bitter. + +Little Nobby's deformity was one of the strange things that made Adam +think. Several years before, he had the child with him at the factory +one night, just old enough to walk a little. In Adam's momentary absence +the boy managed to get upon a box near one of the furnace doors, and, +rolling against the blistering iron, was horribly burned; yet +unaccountably he did not die, but grew bent into a scarred, shapeless +body, though his face was a sweet, childish one, innocent of fire. +Nobby, as Adam called him after that, was a silent preacher to the +stoker. When a clergyman asked him once if he was a Christian, he +pointed to Nobby's back: + +'I knaw there's a Lord,' he said,' or else Nobby'd died, burnt so sore +thet way; an' I knaw He's good, or Nobby'd been a fool a'terward, like +children thet burn theirsel's. Saved Nobby from dyin' an' from bein' +worse nor dead, both, Lord meant him good.' + +The boy was Adam Craig's grandson. His firstborn, Tom, was wild, and +went to sea--the old story--leaving wife and unborn child for his father +to look to. Six years had gone--the seventh began at New Year's; the boy +was born, burnt, saved alive, and not idiotic; its mother had died; +Adam's life was outrunning the child's, and he would soon have to leave +it to go on by itself; but his faith in his son's return never shook. + +'Him'll come back,' he would say, simply, and in perfect confidence, 'I +knaw't well. Lord never burnt Nobby for nawt. Him's nawt dead; him'll +come back some time, I knaw.' + + +III. + +Adam went back at noon, and found something else to take his thoughts: +Nobby was in his pains--a sad remnant of his terrible mishap. These were +irregular, and he had been free for several months, but he had been +exposed to the cold to-day. There was little to be done. At such times +Adam could only cry over him, hold him in his arms while he was twisting +his crooked body so that it would hardly stay in or upon anything, and +say: + +'Poor, poor Nobby. Him'll nawt die, Katry; but how can he live? Lord +send back Tom!' + +Jane was busy somewhere, and did not come home till evening. Her father +had been turned out of his place; Nobby was in his pains again, after +they had been hoping he wouldn't have any more; and to-morrow was +Christmas! As she said, everything came at once. Things seemed to swim +before her eyes--Nobby's pain was the most real of all--and as she could +not help him, she wanted to get out of sight. It was all true. Aching +and longing intolerably for something more than she had known, she had +met Will Prescott--and he had loved her--he said so; and he had promised +her books and pictures, and chances for travel and study. + +She went into the best room, already trimmed for to-morrow; the +Christmas tree was clustered with gifts and with candles ready for +lighting, and the motto was on the top, '_Gott zur huelfe_.' Jane looked +it all over, and her lip quivered. + +'This is pure and honest, as it says,' said she; 'and _I'm_ a lie +myself, cheating father. Christmas to-morrow! 'twon't last long; if +_he_ only knew I go to--I won't say the word--would he ever care about +me again?' + +She went into the other room for her shawl. + +'Hes my little girl got to go out to-night?' said Adam. 'Well, there's +to-morrow. Doan' stay late, Net,' kissing her good-by. + +She pulled the hood over her face and went out, taking the road to the +city, never slackening her pace till the lights along the way grew +thicker, and she came upon the pavements. Crossing the great +thoroughfare, she turned into a narrow street, and from that descended a +short flight of steps into a narrower one lit only by a great lamp in +front of a door, with the word '_Tanzhaus_' above it; she went in here +unhesitatingly. A large room with a bar on one side, small tables in the +middle, and a stage at the farther end; some tables had occupants, +drinking and looking at several women dancing on the stage. This was +Jane's 'place;' the dance house wanted her face at its tables, and as +there was nothing else open, in very desperation she went. She turned +into a smaller room where the private tables were, to which she +belonged; at first they had tried to teach her to dance, but she would +not learn. The furniture was worn, with a slimy polish in spots; an +unclean, stifling smell in the air; a few coarse prints of racers and +champions hung around; and in one place a drunken artist had sketched +one night a Crucifixion on the wall; the owner was angry enough, but +something held back his hand from touching it, and it staid there, +covered by an old newspaper. + +As Jane laid away her shawl and hood, a woman came forward to meet her. + +'What are you here for?' she said, fiercely; 'this is Christmas eve! +there's none for me--I wish I could cry, but my tears are dried up,' +snatching her tawdry cap from her head and stamping on it; 'but you're +not a devil yet. Go home, if you've got a home! out the back +way--quick!' + +The woman caught her shoulder, pulled away the paper, and pointed to the +picture on the wall. + +'Look at _that_! When I see that, I think sometimes I'm in hell! What +has that got to do with me? Do you want to get out of the reach of that? +Go home, go home,' shaking her furiously. + +'I can't! I can't!' cried Jane, desperately. 'He won't let me. 'Twas +here or the street, I thought; I've been here three weeks, and +to-night's no more'n other nights.' + +A voice called in the front room, and the woman put on her cap and ran +in; Jane stood where she left her. She hardly knew what moved her +to-night; she saw her own body walking about, tense and foreign, as +though some possession had it; she had felt a new, strange kind of +strength all day, after she had her cry out. She looked up at the +picture again, saying slowly to herself: + +'It's for _them_--I've got father, and mother, and sister, and +brethren.' + +Nine o'clock struck, and people began to come in; there was likely to be +a rush to-night, and the players in the front room commenced their +liveliest round of operatic airs. One after another turned into the side +room, and the calls for service grew lively. Jane moved among them +mechanically, thinking all the while of Nobby tossing in his pain; of +the tree waiting for to-morrow; of her father turned out of his place; +of the rent and the grocer's bill that were about due; and of her own +wages, pretty much all that was left. Was it such a terrible sin to be +there--for _them_? Then she shivered to think she might be sliding down. +No, no, she would be kept--they should be taken care of, but she +wouldn't fall while she had them to think of. A hot flush colored her +face as she thought of young Prescott, confusing her so that she almost +stumbled. What would _he_ think if he knew where she worked? No matter, +he shouldn't know it. He would take her out of this by and by, and after +that she would tell him all about it, and what she did it for, and he +would love her all the better for it. + +The hours struck and went by, and the room grew hotter and noisier. Once +the tables were emptied; but a fresh party came in, and their leader +waved them to seats with maudlin politeness. He was a handsome young +man, partly drunk already; he pushed the woman he had with him into a +chair, and dropped into another himself. His back was toward Jane; she +stood still a minute, then walked slowly, as if something dragged her, +till she could see his face. + +The glass she held fell from her hand with a crash, but she stood dumb +and white, and clung trembling to the table. He started, but gave her a +nod. + +'_You_, Will Prescott! Oh, my God!' + +'You here, Jane! And you're one of 'em too! I didn't think it quite so +soon.' + +She did not seem to hear the last words. The blood surged back to her +face, and she sank at his feet. + +'No, no,' she moaned, 'I'm not, I'm not--I'm only here. You won't think +worse of me, Will, seeing I did it for _them_? I must work somewhere, +and this was all I could find. Say you don't think _that_! Say you +believe me!' + +He smiled in a drunken way, without speaking. + +'Say it, Will! Say you love me, and take me out of this!' + +'Ho, ho! that's a devilish good one! You're here, and so'm I; I'm just a +little merry to-night--couldn't wait till to-morrow. We're well met, +Jane--these are my friends; here's my most par-ticular friend,' laying +his hand on his companion's shoulder. + +The girl seemed to be stunned so that she did not understand. + +'See it, hey? 'Say you love me!' You do it beautifully, Jane--do some +more. Did you ever think I loved you?--Oh, yes! and that I wanted to +marry you--of course! If your face hadn't looked prettier'n it does now, +damn me if I'd ever looked twice at it!' + +He turned his chair a little. + +'What's that!' he screamed, catching sight of the painting on the wall. +'Take it away! You put it there, you wretch!' staring at it with his +eyes fixed. + +The noise brought the owner to the door--a burly Dutchman. + +'Landlord, put that thing away--cover it up! Damnation! Do I want to +come here to be preached at?' + +'Who pulled that paper off, I say?' said the man. 'I pinned _The +Clipper_ over it. You did it, I swar! Be off with yer!' + +'Oh, let her stay, Lumpsey,' said a woman that came in from the bar; +'she'll be one on 'em when she gits round.' + +'I won't; I won't have nobody here that's better'n we be no longer. +Here's yer pay; an' now, missis, start yerself, an' don't yer come nigh +here agen 'thout yer'll behave decent an' be one on us.' + +He tossed some bank notes toward her, took her by the shoulders, and +shoved her out, shutting the door upon her. + + +IV. + +Everybody had gone out on Christmas eve--darting about in sleighs; at +service in the churches; at a party given in their set; shopping, as if +their lives depended on it. Buying, selling, visiting, looking, the city +was all astir. In the churches, soberly gay with evergreen trimming, +like a young widow very stylish in black, but very proper withal, people +were listening to the anthems, and everything about the place was wide +awake, unless it was the chimes taking a nap until twelve o'clock; +drygoods men ran to and fro, dropping smiles, and winding themselves up +in a great medley reel of silks, laces, and things of _virtu_ in +general; next door, the booksellers were resplendent in dazzling +bindings, pictures and photographs of everything and everybody, all of +which were at everybody's disposal--take 'em all home, if you pleased; +livery stables were as bare as if there had been an invasion of the +country that day, and smiling keepers touched their pockets, and shook +their heads pityingly at late comers; and even in the markets jolly +butchers laughed, and sawed, and cut, and counted their money--and those +leathery fellows that were never jolly, suddenly found out a new +commercial maxim, that jollity is the best policy, and they fell to +laughing too. 'Christmas is coming!' thought everybody. 'Christmas is +coming!' and some of the lively small bells in the towers, not grown yet +to years of ripe discretion, whispered to each other, and had to bite +their tongues to keep from shouting it right out. + +The dance house and the narrow alley left behind, Jane was in the street +too; she went with the crowd, pulling her hood so as to hide her face. +She glanced at the costly goods that lay in confusion on the counters of +the stores, and smiled bitterly, taking hold of her own cheap dress; the +sleighs almost ran over her, they shot back and forth so wildly, to her +whirling brain; a German air that a band was playing on a serenade +somewhere in the distance seemed to roar in her ears like thunder. She +stopped before a confectioner's. The hot smell of meats came up through +the grating where she stood; the window was ablaze with gas, piled high +with pyramids of glittering frost, which rose out of a heaped profusion +of carved lobster and turkey, and fruits and candies; she saw girls with +pretty faces and nice dresses waiting on the fashionable crowd inside, +and said to herself that she ought to be there. Some one touched her. It +was a girl younger than herself, who stood glaring at the window, +shivering in her ragged clothing; her eyes looked unnaturally large out +of her sharp, pinched face, daubed with tears and dirt. + +'Look a' thar!' she cried eagerly, catching Jane's arm, 'see _them_! Why +ben't them mine? Why ben't I in thar, a buyin' o' them? I ort to ride, +ortn't I? Why ben't I got nice things on, like a' them thar? Pinchin' +Dave's got my dress for three shillin' to-night--the last un I been a +savin'; must ha' some drink, so't I'd be forgettin'--to-night, to-night, +ye see, I say--hoh!' + +Giving a wild laugh, the girl ran off. A man inside was looking angrily +through the window; so Jane turned from the thoroughfare, and finally +struck into the road by which she came. The street lamps had given way +to the moon. The flats adjoining the city were all white except marshy +spots; passing two tall buildings, that made a sort of gateway, the +country spread to the sky unbroken, except where rows of dreary houses, +shadowy without the twinkle of a light, stood on some new land; this was +not the fashionable road, and it was empty. How pure and cool it was! In +the city, there was straggling moonlight, darkened by the brick walls, +but no moon; out here, the moon had just broken from a bank of cloud low +down, piled on a bank of snow, all looking snowy and alike, the horizon +line being hardly distinguishable; the light poured from the edge in a +shining flood, and rippled without a sound over the crisp, crusted +snow--all of one kin, cold, sparkling, desolate. + +Jane noted nothing of this; she walked dizzily along the road. Only one +day since morning, after living a whole lifetime in that! She scooped up +a handful of snow, and rubbed it furiously into her face and eyes, they +burned so; her eyes were dry, melting the snow without feeling wet any. +Clear back in the morning, Margery Eames met her; then the day dragged +along as if it never would go, and she ate nothing but the tears she +swallowed; going down those steps, through that dreadful door, waiting +on those tables--the evening, till Will Prescott came in. She had wanted +so to have what others had, to study, to paint--such things as she had +seen, and she couldn't make a stroke! to learn to sing, as she had heard +them sing in the churches; to see Germany, that her mother had told her +about; she wanted to be loved--not like father and Nobby, but another +way too; she had a right to have such things--other people had them. +_He_ had praised her, stroked her hair; said she was too pale, but no +matter, she'd brighten up by and by; she was his little bluebell he had +found in the woods, that he was going to make over into a red rose; she +should have everything she wanted, and go with him everywhere, pretty +soon--only be patient; if he could wait, couldn't she? And she had been +patient, without telling father about it, though somehow he found out; +she had waited in the road an hour more than once for a kind word and a +smile as he rode by; she had borne with her hard fare, and waited for +him to do the things he promised; and after she had to go into the dance +house, she hated it most for his sake--she hated him to kiss her, for +fear he'd find some taint on her lips of the place she went to; she +thought of him all the while, to keep up courage; of course it was for +father and Nobby she did it, but he helped her. It was all over now. + +She came to the bridge over the river, and stopped on it. Just then she +happened to think of a choral her mother liked to sing: 'A mighty +fortress is our God.' A fortress--not hers. Did He sometimes turn +against people and crowd them--who crowded the girl at the +confectioner's window? Was there any God at all? Not in the city; only +two sorts of people were there, who either lived in fine houses, and had +no souls at all, or else went about the streets, and had lost them. Was +there any God out here? If there was, He wouldn't have let Mr. Cowles +turn her father off, and she wouldn't be out in the cold; there wasn't +any anywhere. + +Jane looked down at the water. It was muddy, but it gave a wavering +reflection as the wind ruffled it; now and then a piece of driftwood +glided from under the bridge, and was borne along toward the factory +dam. Her mind flashed round to the factory, and home, and the Christmas +tree for to-morrow, and she laughed bitterly. Jump! She had lost _him_, +all that had been keeping her up so long--he never meant to marry her, +though he said so, and she believed him. Everything went with that love; +what was there left? What matter what came now? Jump! But father and +Nobby? She couldn't leave them unprovided for. Money, money! she must +have money, for _them_. + +The bells began to chime very softly, as they always did at twelve +o'clock of this night in the year. They seemed to say: 'Come! come! +come!' She caught at the sound. There was money in the city, and one way +yet to earn it. + +'They're calling me!' she cried, clutching her dress wildly with both +hands; 'they're pushing me into hell--why shouldn't I go? _They'll_ have +money, and I'm gone already.' + +She turned, and walked back without faltering, to the edge of the city, +and stopped between the two buildings. There was an alley close by, like +one she knew so well; by the noise there was revel in it. She hesitated +a minute, crouching out of sight in the shadow of the buildings. + +'Don't stop here!' she muttered to herself; 'now as well as any other +time!' and turned into the alley. The light was streaming from a door +near the middle, and a man in sailor's dress came out and caught a +glimpse of her creeping along close to the wall. + +'Hey, lass!' he said, 'merry Christmas to ye! 'Rived in port to-day. +Been a cruisin'. Locker full, an' all hands piped ashore. What craft be +you--a Dutch galley? Sail down a bit, till I get within speakin' +distance.' + +She only staggered closer against the wall. + +'Beatin' off, hey? Well, lass, come an' drink to better acquaintance.' + +'It's the first time, but I'll go--I'll go with you,' she answered. She +followed him to the door. The gas flared full on his face, and she gave +a mortal scream. + +'Brother Tom!' + +He made a headlong clutch at her, but she broke away, leaving a fragment +of her dress in his hand, and flew round the corner out of his sight. + +She ran blindly through several streets, but finally she regained the +road, and never stopped her headlong speed till she leaned against the +door of Adam Craig's cottage. She pushed the door open softly, and went +in. Quick as she had been, her brother was there already, standing by +Nobby's bed; Adam Craig was there, but his back was turned. + +'Did you--tell him?' she whispered. + +Her brother nodded, and put out his hand. She took it, with a half +hesitation. + +'He understands,' he whispered, answering the question of her eyes. + +The old stoker turned around. She made a move to shrink away, but he +caught her, and drew her to his breast, crying and sobbing: + +'Lord, Lord, Lord's good!' he cried, 'thank Him for't! She's saved, my +little girl! I've found more'n I've lost, to-day. Oh, she's pure yet, +she's saved--she's nawt lost, my girl, she's nawt! I didn't knaw't! +didn't knaw what she was doin', but it's all right noo! We'll never want +any more, but if Net'd been lost--but she's nawt, nawt--she's nawt gone, +she's here, an' harm never'll come nigh her any more! I knowed Tom'd +come back, an' now Net! they both hev saved each other, Lord's good +for't!' + +'But Nobby?' she whispered. + +'Lord brought us one, an' noo He's goin' to take back t'other,' said +Adam. + +The child was twisting in his father's arms in the height of his pain. + +'I knaw noo why 'twas I went away thet mornin', an' Nobby got t'bump,' +said Adam, looking on sadly. + +The young sailor made no answer. The partial drunkenness of his first +night on shore was gone, and he only held his suffering child, wiping +the drops from its face. So they stood watching, and the hours went on. + +'Zuhoeret!' cried Adam's wife. 'Die Weihnachtsglocken!' + +It was the bells, ringing out the full morning carol. The child was +lying on his bed; he brightened up a little, then shut his eyes wearily, +and stopped writhing. For little Nobby it that moment became true that + + 'Christ was born on Christmas day.' + + + + +APHORISM.--NO. VII. + + +The sufficient reason why the common developments of intellect are so +poor, is not so much in the want of native capacity, as in the low moral +estate of our nature. Our hearts are so dry, our better affections so +dull, that we are not the subjects of stimulus adequate to the calling +forth of efforts suitable to the necessities of the case. Here and +there, one is so richly endowed in mind, that his love of science or art +may suffice to tax his powers to the full: but a world could never be +constituted of such geniuses. The mass of men, if ever to be led up to +any high plane of mental life, must be so under the promptings of +affections and passions which find their excitement in the more +practical spheres of our existence. + + + + +JAMES FENIMORE COOPER ON SECESSION AND STATE RIGHTS. + + +In the earlier numbers of _The Spirit of the Fair_, the newspaper +published by a committee of gentlemen for the benefit of the New York +Metropolitan Fair, appeared a series of very remarkable papers from the +pen of James Fenimore Cooper, the American novelist.[7] The history of +these papers is very curious, as announced by the editors of _The Spirit +of the Fair_, in their introductory, as follows: + + 'UNPUBLISHED MSS. OF JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. + + 'Our national novelist died in the autumn of 1850; previous to his + fatal illness he was engaged upon a historical work, to be entitled + 'The Men of Manhattan,' only the Introduction to which had been + sent to the press. The printing office was destroyed by fire, and + with it the opening chapters of this work; fortunately a few pages + had been set up, and the impression sent to a literary gentleman, + then editor of a popular critical journal, and were thus saved from + destruction. To him we are indebted for the posthumous articles of + Cooper, wherewith, by a coincidence as remarkable as it is + auspicious, we now enrich our columns with a contribution from the + American pioneer in letters.' + +Many readers at the time passed over these papers without the careful +attention which they deserved. Others, who perused them more thoroughly, +were struck with the remarkable prescience which the great writer's +thoughts exhibited on topics which the events now passing before us lend +a tremendous interest. Cooper, it must be remembered, uttered his views +on 'Secession,' 'State Rights,' etc., upward of _fifteen years ago_, and +at a period when the horrors of rebellion, as a consequence of slavery, +were little foreseen as likely to succeed those years of peace and +prosperity. Had these opinions been published at the period intended by +their writer, they would doubtless have been pronounced visionary and +illogical. By a singular succession of events, however, the MS. has been +hidden in the chrysalis of years, until, lo! it sees the light of day at +a period when the prophetic words of their author come up, as it were, +from his grave, with the vindication of truth and historic fidelity. + +For the benefit of those who have not read these papers in the newspaper +where they originally appeared, we make the following extracts, feeling +assured that no man interested in passing events, or in the causes which +led to them, can fail to recognize in these passages the astonishing +power and comprehensiveness of the mind that fifteen years ago discussed +these vital topics. Let it be remembered, too, that their author was a +man whose sympathies were largely with his countrymen, not less of the +South than of the North, and that it was doubtless with a view of +warning his Southern friends of the danger which hovered over the +'institution' of slavery, that they were written. Probably had they +appeared in print at that time, they would have produced no effect where +mostly effect was aimed at; but now that they have appeared, when the +small cloud of evil pointed out has spread over the Southern land and +broken into a deluge of devastation, they will at least prove that the +words of warning were not perishable utterances signifying nothing. + + +'SECESSION. + +'The first popular error that we shall venture to assail, is that +connected with the prevalent notion of the sovereignty of the States. We +do not believe that the several States of this Union are, in any +legitimate meaning of the term, sovereign at all. We are fully aware +that this will be regarded as a bold, and possibly as a presuming +proposition, but we shall endeavor to work it out with such means as we +may have at command. + +'We lay down the following premises as too indisputable to need any +arguments to sustain them: viz., the authority which formed the present +Constitution of the United States had the legal power to do so. That +authority was in the Government of the States, respectively, and not in +their people in the popular signification, but through their people in +the political meaning of the term, and what was then done must be +regarded as acts connected with the composition and nature of +governments, and of no minor or different interests of human affairs. + +'It being admitted, that the power which formed the Government was +legitimate, we obtain one of the purest compacts for the organization of +human society that probably ever existed. The ancient allegiance, under +which the colonies had grown up to importance, had been extinguished by +solemn treaty, and the States met in Convention sustained by all the law +they had, and backed in every instance by institutions that were more or +less popular. The history of the world cannot, probably, furnish another +instance of the settlement of the fundamental contract of a great nation +under circumstances of so much obvious justice. This gives unusual +solemnity and authority to the Constitution of 1787, and invests it with +additional claims to our admiration and respect. + +'The authority which formed the Constitution admitted, we come next to +the examination of its acts. It is apparent from the debates and +proceedings of the Convention, that two opinions existed in that body; +the one leaning strongly toward the concentration of power in the hands +of the Federal Government, and the other desirous of leaving as much as +possible with the respective States. The principle that the powers which +are not directly conceded to the Union should remain in first hands, +would seem never to have been denied; and some years after the +organization of the Government, it was solemnly recognized in an +amendment. We are not disposed, however, to look for arguments in the +debates and discussions of the Convention, in our view often a deceptive +and dangerous method of construing a law, since the vote is very +frequently given on even conflicting reasons. Different minds arrive at +the same results by different processes; and it is no unusual thing for +men to deny each other's premises, while they accept their conclusions. +We shall look, therefore, solely to the compact itself, as the most +certain mode of ascertaining what was done. + +'No one will deny that all the great powers of sovereignty are directly +conceded to the Union. The right to make war and peace, to coin money, +maintain armies and navies, etc., etc., in themselves overshadow most of +the sovereignty of the States. The amendatory clause would seem to +annihilate it. By the provisions of that clause three fourths of the +States can take away all the powers and rights now resting in the hands +of the respective States, with a single exception. This exception gives +breadth and emphasis to the efficiency of the clause. It will be +remembered that all this can be done within the present Constitution. +It is a part of the original bargain. Thus, New York can legally be +deprived of the authority to punish for theft, to lay out highways, to +incorporate banks, and all the ordinary interests over which she at +present exercises control, every human being within her limits +dissenting. Now as sovereignty means power in the last resort, this +amendatory clause most clearly deprives the State of all sovereign power +thus put at the disposition of Conventions of the several States; in +fact, the votes of these Conventions, or that of the respective +Legislatures acting in the same capacity, is nothing but the highest +species of legislation known to the country; and no other mode of +altering the institutions would be legal. It follows unavoidably, we +repeat, that the sovereignty which remains in the several States must be +looked for solely in the exception. What, then, is this exception? + +'It is a provision which says, that no State may be deprived of its +equal representation in the Senate, without its own consent. It might +well be questioned whether this provision of the Constitution renders a +Senate indispensable to the Government. But we are willing to concede +this point and admit that it does. Can the vote of a single State, which +is one of a body of thirty, and which is bound to submit to the decision +of a legal majority, be deemed a sovereign vote? Assuming that the whole +power of the Government of the United States were in the Senate, would +any one State be sovereign in such a condition of things? We think not. +But the Senate does not constitute by any means the whole or the half of +the authority of this Government; its legislative power is divided with +a popular body, without the concurrence of which it can do nothing; this +dilutes the sovereignty to a degree that renders it very imperceptible, +if not very absurd. Nor is this all. After a law is passed by the +concurrence of the two houses of Congress, it is sent to a perfectly +independent tribunal to decide whether it is in conformity with the +principles of the great national compact; thus demonstrating, as we +assume, that the sovereignty of this whole country rests, not in its +people, not in its States, but in the Government of the Union. + +'Sovereignty, and that of the most absolute character, is indispensable +to the right of secession: nay, sovereignty, in the ordinary acceptation +of the meaning of the term, might exist in a State without this right of +secession. We doubt if it would be held sound doctrine to maintain that +any single State had a right to secede from the German Confederation, +for instance; and many alliances, or mere treaties, are held to be +sacred and indissoluble; they are only broken by an appeal to violence. + +'Every human contract may be said to possess its distinctive character. +Thus, marriage is to be distinguished from a partnership in trade, +without recurrence to any particular form of words. Marriage, contracted +by any ceremony whatever, is held to be a contract for life. The same is +true of Governments: in their nature they are intended to be +indissoluble. We doubt if there be an instance on record of a Government +that ever existed, under conditions, expressed or implied, that the +parts of its territory might separate at will. There are so many +controlling and obvious reasons why such a privilege should not remain +in the hands of sections or districts, that it is unnecessary to advert +to them. But after a country has rounded its territory, constructed its +lines of defence, established its system of custom houses, and made all +the other provisions for security, convenience, and concentration, that +are necessary to the affairs of a great nation, it would seem to be very +presumptuous to impute to any particular district the right to destroy +or mutilate a system regulated with so much care. + +'The only manner in which the right of secession could exist in one of +the American States, would be by an express reservation to that effect +in the Constitution, There is no such clause; did it exist it would +change the whole character of the Government, rendering it a mere +alliance, instead of being that which it now is--a lasting Union. But, +whatever may be the legal principles connected with this serious +subject, there always exists, in large bodies of men, a power to change +their institutions by means of the strong hand. This is termed the right +of revolution, and it has often been appealed to to redress grievances +that could be removed by no other agency. It is undeniable that the +institution of domestic slavery, as it now exists in what are termed the +Southern and Southwestern States of this country, creates an interest of +the most delicate and sensitive character. Nearly one half of the entire +property of the slaveholding States consists in this right to the +services of human beings of a race so different from our own as to +render any amalgamation to the last degree improbable, if not +impossible. Any one may easily estimate the deep interest that the +masters feel in the preservation of their property. The spirit of the +age is decidedly against them, and of this they must be sensible; it +doubly augments their anxiety for the future. The natural increase, +moreover, of these human chattels renders an outlet indispensable, or +they will soon cease to be profitable by the excess of their numbers. To +these facts we owe the figments which have rendered the Southern school +of logicians a little presuming, perhaps, and certainly very +sophistical. Among other theories we find the bold one, that the +Territories of the United States are the property, not of the several +States, but of their individual people; in other words, that the native +of New York or Rhode Island, regardless of the laws of the country, has +a right to remove to any one of these Territories, carry with him just +such property as he may see fit, and make such use of it as he may find +convenient. This is a novel copartnership in jurisdiction, to say the +least, and really does not seem worthy of a serious reply.' + + +'SLAVERY. + +'The American Union has much more adhesiveness than is commonly +imagined. The diversity and complexity of its interests form a network +that will be found, like the web of the spider, to possess a power of +resistance far exceeding its gossamer appearance--one strong enough to +hold all that it was ever intended to enclose. The slave interest is now +making its final effort for supremacy, and men are deceived by the +throes of a departing power. The institution of domestic slavery cannot +last. It is opposed to the spirit of the age; and the figments of Mr. +Calhoun, in affirming that the Territories belong to the States, instead +of the Government of the United States; and the celebrated doctrine of +the equilibrium, for which we look in vain into the Constitution for a +single sound argument to sustain it, are merely the expiring efforts of +a reasoning that cannot resist the common sense of the nation. As it is +healthful to exhaust all such questions, let us turn aside a moment, to +give a passing glance at this very material subject. + +'At the time when the Constitution was adopted, three classes of persons +were 'held to service' in the country--apprentices, redemptioners, and +slaves. The two first classes were by no means insignificant in 1789, +and the redemptioners were rapidly increasing in numbers. In that day it +looked as if this speculative importation of laborers from Europe was to +form a material part of the domestic policy of the Northern States. Now +the negro is a human being, as well as an apprentice or a redemptioner, +though the Constitution does not consider him as the equal of either. +It is a great mistake to suppose that the Constitution of the United +States, as it now exists, recognizes slavery in any manner whatever, +unless it be to mark it as an interest that has less than the common +claim to the ordinary rights of humanity. In the apportionment, or +representation clause, the redemptioner and the apprentice counts each +as a man, whereas five slaves are enumerated as only three free men. The +free black is counted as a man, in all particulars, and is represented +as such, but his fellow in slavery has only three fifths of his +political value.' + + +'THE LOVE OF UNION. + +'The attachment to the Union is very strong and general throughout the +whole of this vast country, and it is only necessary to sound the tocsin +to bring to its maintenance a phalanx equal to uphold its standard +against the assaults of any enemies. The impossibility of the +Northwestern States consenting that the mouth of the Mississippi should +be held by a foreign power, is in itself a guarantee of the long +existence of the present political ties. Then, the increasing and +overshadowing power of the nation is of a character so vast, so +exciting, so attractive, so well adapted to carry with it popular +impulses, that men become proud of the name of American, and feel +unwilling to throw away the distinction for any of the minor +considerations of local policy. Every man sees and feels that a state is +rapidly advancing to maturity which must reduce the pretensions of even +ancient Rome to supremacy, to a secondary place in the estimation of +mankind. A century will unquestionably place the United States of +America prominently at the head of civilized nations, unless their +people throw away their advantages by their own mistakes--the only real +danger they have to apprehend: and the mind clings to this hope with a +buoyancy and fondness that are becoming profoundly national. We have a +thousand weaknesses, and make many blunders, beyond a doubt, as a +people; but where shall we turn to find a parallel to our progress, our +energy, and increasing power? That which it has required centuries, in +other regions, to effect, is here accomplished in a single life; and the +student in history finds the results of all his studies crowded, as it +might be, into the incidents of the day.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 7: The stereotype plates of _The Spirit of the Fair_, in which +the Cooper articles originally appeared, are owned by Mr. Trow. Bound +volumes of these interesting papers, containing a record of days so full +of patriotism, charity, and incident, may be obtained on application to +him. We give this piece of information to our readers, not doubting that +many of them will be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity to +possess them--an opportunity which may soon pass away in the rapid +development of present events.--EDITOR CONTINENTAL.] + + + + +APHORISMS.--NO. VIII. + + +'We shall never know much while we have so many books.' + +Such was my thought, many years ago; and such does all my observation +and experience still confirm. Knowledges we may have, even if we do read +much: but not much knowledge. + +But, some will ask, if one has true ideas, though derived from +others--is not that knowledge? Yes, if he has ideas: but propositions +expressing them are not enough: one may have many of these, and know but +little. For example, let us suppose Locke right about the mind's coming +into existence as a sheet of white paper--a man may receive this, and +yet not know it. See how easily this may be tested. White paper will +receive any impression you please: can the human mind receive the +impression that two and two are five, or that a part is equal to the +whole? Locke could have answered this, and seemed to save his theory. +The borrower from Locke cannot. + + + + +THE RESURRECTION FLOWER. + + +If a traveller in Egypt were to bow before the Sphynx, and receive a nod +in return, he could scarcely be more surprised than I was to-day, upon +seeing a little, dried-up thing--the remains of what had once bloomed +and faded ''mid beleaguering sands'--spring into life and beauty before +my very eyes. All the Abbott Collection contains nothing more rare or +curious. Old, perhaps, as Cheops, and apparently as sound asleep, it is +startled at the touch of water, and, stretching forth its tiny petals, +wakes into life as brightly as a new-born flower. + +No one could believe, upon looking at this little ball, hanging on its +fragile stem, and resembling both in color and shape a shrunken +poppy-head, or some of the acorn tribe, what magical results could arise +from merely wetting its surface--yet so it is. + +Sleeping, but not dead, the flower is aroused by being for an instant +immersed in water, and then supported in an upright position. Soon the +upper fibres begin to stir. Slowly, yet visibly, they unfold, until, +with petals thrown back in equidistant order, it assumes the appearance +of a beautifully radiated, starry flower, not unlike some of the Asters +in form. Resting a moment, it suddenly, as though inspired by some new +impulse, throws its very heart to the daylight, curving back its petals +farther still, and disclosing beauties undreamed of even in the +loveliness of its first awakening. + +To say that, in general effect, its appearance resembles the +passion-flower is to give but a poor description, and yet one searches +in vain for a more fitting comparison. Lacking entirely the strong +contrasts in color of the latter, it yet wears a halo of its own, unlike +any other in the whole range of floral effects. + +When viewed through a powerful lens, the heart of the flower, which, to +the naked eye, lies flooded in a warm, colorless light, assumes the most +exquisite iridescent hues, far more beautiful than the defined tints of +the passion-flower. Melting to the eye in its juiciness and delicacy, +yet firm in its pure outline and rounded finish, it bears the same +relation to that chosen type of the great Suffering, that peace bears to +passion, or that promise bears to prayer. + +Soon the aspect of the flower changes. As though over the well-spring of +its eternal life hangs some ruthless power forcing it back into +darkness, before an hour has passed, we can see that its newly-found +vigor is fading away. The pulsing light at its heart grows fainter and +fainter--slowly the petals raise themselves, to drop wearily side by +side upon its bosom--and finally, its beauty vanished, its strength +exhausted, it hangs heavy and brown upon its stem, waiting for the touch +that alone can waken it again. + +This rare botanical wonder, blooming one moment before admiring eyes, +and next lying dried and shrivelled in a tomb-like box, is not without +its legendary interest, though the odor of its oriental history has, by +this time, been nearly blown away by that sharp simoom of investigation, +which has already whirled so many pretty fables and theories into +oblivion. + +The story of the flower, as given in 1856, by the late Dr. Deck, the +naturalist, is as follows: + +While travelling on a professional tour in Upper Egypt, eight years +before, engaged in exploring for some lost emerald and copper mines, he +chanced to render medical service to an Arab attached to his party. In +gratitude, the child of the desert formally presented to him this +now-called 'Resurrection Flower,' at the same time enjoining upon him +never to part with it. Like the fabled gift of the Egyptian, it was +supposed to have 'magic in the web of it.' The doctor was solemnly +assured by the Arab, and others of his race, that it had been taken ten +years before from the breast of an Egyptian mummy, a high priestess, and +was deemed a great rarity; that it would never decay if properly cared +for; that its possession through life would tend to revive hope in +adversity, and, if buried with its owner, would ensure for him hereafter +all the enjoyments of the Seventh Heaven of Mahomet. When presented, +this flower was one of two hanging upon the same stem. Dr. Deck +carefully preserved one; the twin specimen he presented to Baron +Humboldt, who acknowledged it to be the greatest floral wonder he had +yet seen, and the only one of its kind he had met with in the course of +his extensive travels. + +For years the doctor carried his treasure with him everywhere, prizing +it for its intrinsic qualities, and invariably awakening the deepest +interest whenever he chanced to display its wondrous powers. During the +remainder of his life he caused the flower to open more than one +thousand times, without producing any diminution of its extraordinary +property, or any injury to it whatever. It is proper to state that, +though closely examined by some of the most eminent naturalists, both at +home and abroad, no positive position in the botanical kingdom was ever +assigned to it--indeed to this day it remains a waif in the floral +world, none having determined under what classification it belongs. + +I need not say that the doctor, while gratefully accepting the gift of +his Arab friend, quietly rejected the accompanying superstitions. +Subsequent trials and proofs positive confirmed his doubts of its +hope-inspiring power, while his inclination and good old prejudices +tempted him to forego the delights of the Seventh Heaven by bequeathing +his treasure to his friend and pupil, Dr. C. J. Eames, of New York, than +whom none could regard it with a truer appreciation, or recognize its +exquisite perfection with a feeling nearer akin to veneration. + +It has now been in the possession of Dr. Eames for several years, and +has, in the mean time, been unfolded many hundred times, still without +any deterioration of its mysterious power. It opens as fairly and +freshly to-day, as when, under Egyptian skies, more than sixteen years +ago, its delicate fibres, heavy with the dust of ages, quivered into a +new life before the astonished eyes of Dr. Deck. + +Well-named as, in some respects, it seems to be, this marvel of the +botanical world has already given rise to not a few discussions among +the scientific and curious, some earnestly proclaiming its right to the +title of 'Resurrection Flower,' and others denying that it is a flower +at all. Indeed, in its unfolded state, its resemblance to a flattened +poppy-head, and other seed vessels, offers strong argument in favor of +the latter opinion. In alluding to it, one uses the term 'flower' with +decided 'mental reservation'--beautiful flower, as it seems to be when +opened--and speaks of its 'petals' with a deprecating glance at +imaginary hosts of irate botanists. Some, it is true, still insist that +it is a _bona fide_ flower; but Dr. Deck himself inclined to the belief +that it was the pericarp or seed vessel of some desert shrub, rare +indeed, as few or none like it have appeared in centuries, yet not +without its analogies in the vegetable world. + +The famous Rose of Jericho (not that mentioned in the Apocrypha, or the +very common kind peculiar to the far East, but that long-lost variety +prized by the Crusaders as a holy emblem of their zeal and pilgrimage) +was, in all probability, a member of the same genus to which the +'Resurrection Flower' belongs. This opinion is supported by the fact +that resemblances of the 'flower,' both open and closed, are sculptured +upon some of the tombs of the Crusaders--two, in the Temple Church of +London, and several in the Cathedrals of Bayeux and Rouen in Normandy, +where lie some of the most renowned followers of Peter the Hermit. + +A brother of Dr. Deck, engaged in antiquarian research in the island of +Malta, discovered the same device graven upon the knights' tombs, and +invariably on that portion of the shield, the 'dexter chief,' which was +considered the place of highest honor. This gentleman has also furnished +the following quotation from an old monkish manuscript, describing 'a +wonder obtained from Jerusalem by the holy men, and called by them the +'Star of Bethlehem,' as, if exposed to the moon on the eve of the +Epiphany, it would become wondrous fair to view, and like unto the star +of the Saviour; and with the first glory of the sun, it would return to +its lowliness.' + +Doubtless the old chroniclers, had they lived in these days of evidence +and 'solid fact,' would have given some credit to the heavy dews +peculiar to moonlight nights, an exposure to which would assuredly have +produced all the effect of immersion upon the flower. + +The fact of so close a representation of the 'Resurrection Flower' being +upon the tombs of the Crusaders, added to the circumstance that in his +Egyptian researches he had never met with any allusion to it, induced +Dr. Deck to discard the story of its Egyptian origin as untenable. 'I +have unwrapped many mummies myself,' he wrote, 'and have had +opportunities of being present at unrolling of others of all classes, +and have never discovered another Resurrection Flower, nor heard of any +one who had; and in the examination of hieroglyphics of every age and +variety, I never discovered anything bearing the remotest resemblance to +it. Those who are conversant with the wonderful features of the Egyptian +religion and priestcraft, will observe how eagerly they seized upon and +deified anything symbolical of their mysterious tenets, and transmitted +them to posterity, figured as hieroglyphics; and it is but natural to +presume that this homely-looking flower, with its halo, so typical of +glory and resurrection, would have ranked high in their mythology, if +it, and its properties, had been known to them. Moreover, an examination +of the elaborate works of Josephus, Herodotus, King, and Diodorus, so +full in their description of Egyptian mythology, has failed to elicit +any description or notice of it whatever.' + +Nearly every one has read of the famous Rose of Jericho (_Anastatica +hierochontina_) or Holy Rose--a low, gray-leaved annual, utterly unlike +a rose, growing abundantly in the arid wastes of Egypt, and also +throughout Palestine and Barbary, and along the sandy coasts of the Red +Sea. One of the most curious of the cruciferous plants, it exhibits, in +a rare degree, a hygrometric action in its process of reproduction. +During the hot season it blooms freely, growing close to the ground, +bearing its leaves and blossoms upon its upper surface; when these fall +off, the stems become dry and ligneous, curving upward and inward until +the plant becomes a ball of twigs, containing its closed seed-vessels in +the centre, and held to the sand by a short fibreless root. In this +condition, it is readily freed by the winds, and blown across the +desert, until it reaches an oasis or the sea; when, yielding to the +'_Open Sesame_' of water, it uncloses, leaving nature to use its +jealously guarded treasures at her will. + +The dried plant, if carefully preserved, retains for a long time its +hygrometric quality. When wet, it expands to its original form, +displaying florets (?) not unlike those of the elder, but larger, +closing again as soon as the moisture evaporates. Hence it is +reverenced in Syria as a holy emblem. The people call it _Kaf Maryam_, +or Mary's Flower, and many superstitions are held regarding it, one of +which is, that it first blossomed on the night on which our Saviour was +born. Growing everywhere, upon heaps of rubbish and roofs of old houses, +by the wayside, and almost under the very door-stones, it creeps into +the surroundings of the people, weaving its chains of white, yellow, or +purple flowers while sunshine lasts, and, when apparent decay overtakes +it, teaching its beautiful lesson of Life in Death. Who can cavil at the +thought which raises it to a symbol of that Eternal Love forever weaving +endless chains from heart to heart, no spot too lowly for its tendrils +to penetrate, or too dreary for its bloom. + +Some specimens of the Anastatica have been carried to this country by +travellers. One, in the cabinet of Fisher Howe, Esq., of Brooklyn, and +brought by him from Jericho fourteen years ago, still retains its +remarkable habit; and another, older still, is in the possession of Dr. +Eames. + +Among the plants which exhibit curious phases of hygrometric action +might be cited some of the Fig Marigolds (_Mesembryanthemum_); also the +Scaly Club Moss (_Lycopodium_). The latter, after being thoroughly +withered, will, if laid in water, gradually expand, turn green, and +assume the appearance of a thriving plant. When again dried, it becomes +a brown, shrunken mass, capable, however, of being revived _ad libitum_. + +Some species of Fungi also exhibit a similar property--and all have +observed with what promptitude the various pine and larch cones cover +their seed in a storm, or even when it 'looks like rain.' I remember +being once not a little puzzled in trying to open a drawer that some +weeks before had been filled with damp pine cones. Upon becoming dry, +each individual had attempted a humble imitation of the genii in the +'Arabian Nights,' expanding to its fullest extent, only to be subjugated +by being cast again into the water. + +Some of the Algae exhibit properties similar to that of the Club Moss; +and a marine plant known as the Californian Rock-rose is still more +curious. Clinging closely to the rocks, and feeding upon some invisible +debris, or, like certain orchids, drawing its sustenance from the air +(for the rocks upon which it grows, sometimes are lifted far above the +water), it attains an enormous size, being in some instances as large as +a bushel basket. It is not without a certain jagged beauty of contour, +resembling, more than anything else, clusters of Arbor Vitae branches cut +out of wet leather, and meeting in the centre. Once torn from its stony +bed, the Rock-rose curls up into an apparently tangled mass of network, +having the general outline of a rose, but it will at any time, upon +being immersed in water, assume its original appearance. I have seen a +fine specimen of this plant open and close, for the hundredth time, +years after it had been taken from the rock. + +The Hygrometric Ground Star (_Geastrum hygrometricum_), found in many +portions of Europe, is well known; nearer home, we have a variety +(_Geastrum Saratogensis_) differing in some respects from its +transatlantic relative, which is of a warm brown color, and flourishes +in gravelly soil. + +The American variety grows abundantly in the drifting sands of Saratoga +County, N. Y. It has no stem or root, excepting here and there a fine +capillary fibre by which it clings to the ground. When dry, it contracts +to a perfect sphere, is rolled by the wind across the sand, and +(according to the account given by Dr. Asa Fitch, who has had a specimen +in his possession for twenty years) shakes a few seeds from the orifice +at its summit at each revolution. This seed ball also possesses the +power of opening when moistened, changing its spherical form to that of +an open flower about two inches in diameter. When opened, it displays +eight elliptical divisions, resembling petals. These are white as snow +on the inside, and traversed by a network of small irregular cracks, +while their outer surface resembles kid leather, both in color and +texture. + +The Ground Star differs in habit from the 'Resurrection Flower,' which +never yields its seed unless expanded by moisture (if Dr. Deck's theory +be correct), and is not nearly as intricate or beautiful in construction +as the oriental relic. Indeed, to this day, the 'Resurrection Flower,' +as one must call it for want of a better name, remains without a known +rival in the botanical world. From time to time, brief notices +concerning it have been published; and where writers, sometimes without +having seen the original, have claimed the knowledge or possession of +similar specimens, they have become convinced of their mistake on +personal inspection. Even the plants alluded to in a short account, +given eight years ago, in a leading New York periodical, as being the +same as the 'Resurrection Flower,' proved, on comparison by Dr. Eames, +to be entirely different. + +Although it is by no means certain that the plant in Baron Humboldt's +collection, and that owned by Dr Eames, are the only individuals of +their kind in existence, the fact of their great rarity is well +established. As far as I have been able to ascertain, there is but one +'Resurrection Flower' in America. + +That new plants might be obtained from this lonely representative of its +race few can doubt; but to this day the germs exposed so temptingly at +each awakening, have never been removed. Old as it is, it has never done +its work, the only seeds it has sown being those of inquiry and +adoration in the minds of all who have witnessed its marvellous powers. + +Whether the pretty oriental tale of its origin be true or not--and it +requires an oriental faith to believe it in the face of contradictory +evidence--none can gaze upon that little emblem of 'Life in Death'--so +homely and frail, and yet so beautiful and so eternal--without peculiar +emotion. + +What drooping, weary soul, parched with the dust of earth, but sometimes +longs to be forever steeped in that great Love in which it may expand +and bloom--casting its treasures upon Heavenly soil,--and glowing +evermore with the radiance of the Awakening. + + + + +RECOGNITION. + + + Now in the chambers of my heart is day, + And form and order. A most sacred guest + Is come therein, and at his high behest + Beauty and Light, who his calm glance obey, + Flew to prepare them for his regal sway. + Now solitude I seek, which once, possessed, + I fled; now, solitude to me is blessed, + Wherein I hearken Love's mysterious lay, + And hold with thee communion in my heart. + That thou art beautiful, thou who art mine-- + That with thy beauty, Beauty's soul divine + Has filled my soul, I muse upon apart. + In the blue dome of Heaven's eternity, + Rising I seem upborne by thoughts of thee. + + + + +THE SEVEN-HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF A GERMAN CAPITAL. + + +Most of our countrymen look upon Germany as all one. The varieties of +outlandish customs, costumes, and dialects observed among our emigrant +population from that land are little noticed, and never regarded as +marking districts of the fatherland from which they severally sprung. +One of the most fruitful themes of pleasant humor and biting sarcasm in +our periodical literature and in the popular mouth, is the ignorance +betrayed by enlightened foreigners, and especially foreign journalists, +in regard to the geography of our country; as though America were, _par +excellence_, THE land, and on whatever other subject the world might, +without meriting our contempt, fail to inform itself, our country, not +only in its glorious history and more glorious destiny, but in the +minuter details of the picture, must be understood and acknowledged. +This charge of ignorance is not unfounded. Often have I been not a +little amused when an intelligent German has inquired of me as a New +Yorker, with the sure hope of news from his friend in Panama, or another +to learn how he might collect a debt from a merchant at Valparaiso, or a +third to be informed why he received no answers to letters addressed to +friends in Cuba, and so on. But if the tables were turned upon us, there +is no point on which we should be found open to a more fearful +retribution than on this. I know an American gentleman of education--and +he told me the story himself--who applied at Washington for letters to +our diplomatic representatives in Europe, and who had sufficiently +informed himself to be on the point of sailing for several years' +residence abroad, and still, when letters were handed him for our +consul-general at Frankfort and our minister in Prussia, asked, with no +little concern, whether a letter to our minister in _Germany_ could not +be given him. I knew a correspondent of a New York journal fearfully to +scourge a distinguished German for his ignorance of American geography. +The same person, after months of residence in Munich, having about +exhausted the resources which it offered him for his correspondence, +gave a somewhat detailed account of the affairs of Greece, in which he +referred to King Otho as _brother_ of King Lewis of Bavaria, although +almost any peasant could have told him that the latter was _father_ to +the former. + +Indeed, there is nothing strange about this, unless it be that any one +should deem himself quite above the class of blunders which he +satirizes. It is less to be wondered at that one should continue to hurl +his satiric javelins at those who commit the same class of errors with +himself, since he seldom becomes aware of his own ridiculous mistakes. +In regard to Germany, our people know but its grand divisions and its +large cities; and of its people among us but their exterior +distinctions, and mainly those offered to the eye, arrest attention. We +meet them as servants or employes in kitchens, shops, and gardens, and +on farms, or as neighbors, competitors, or associates in business. At +evening we separate, and they go to their own domestic or social +circles, where alone the native character speaks itself freely forth in +the native language and dialect. There only the homebred wit and humor +freely flow and flash. There the half-forgotten legends and +superstitions, the utterance of which to other ears than those of their +own people is forbidden--perhaps by a slight sense of shame, perhaps by +the utter failure of language,--together with the pastimes and +adventures of their native villages or districts, are arrested in their +rapid progress to oblivion, as they are occasionally called forth to +amuse the dull hours or lighten the heavy ones of a home-sick life in a +foreign land. Could we but half enter into the hearts of the peasant +Germans who move among us, and are by some regarded as scarcely raised +in refinement and sensibility above the rank of the more polished +domestic animals of our own great and enlightened land, we should often +find them replete with the choicest elements of the truly epic, the +comic, and the tragic. + +How seldom do the people of different lands and languages learn to +understand each other--become so well acquainted as to appreciate each +other's most engaging traits? The German emigrant seeks a home among us, +and desires to identify himself with us. The costume of his native +district is thrown off as soon as he needs a new garment, often much +sooner. His language is laid aside except for domestic use and certain +social and business purposes, as soon as he has a few words of ours. +These words serve the ends of business, and rarely does he ever learn +enough for any other purpose. The other parts of the man remain +concealed from our view. He is to us a pure utilitarian of the grossest +school. His pipe suspended from his mouth, his whole time given to his +shop, his farm, or his garden, and to certain amusements unknown to us, +he is deemed to vegetate much like the plants he grows, or to live a +life on the same level with that of the animal he feeds, incapable of +appreciating those higher and more refined pleasures to which we have +risen--in other words, the true type of dulness and coarseness. An +intelligent Welshman once told me that he could not talk religion in +English nor politics in Welsh. So with the Germans among us. Their +business and politics learn to put themselves into English, their +religious, domestic, and social being remains forever shut up in the +enclosure of their mother tongue, and from this we rashly judge that +what they express is all there is of them. We have never considered the +difficulty of transferring all the utterances of humanity from their +first and native mediums to foreign ones. It is easy to learn the daily +wants of life or the formal details of business in a new language. Here +words have a uniform sense. But the nice shades and turns of thought +which appear in the happiest and most delicate jets of wit and humor, +and which form the great staples of pleasant social intercourse, depend +upon those subtile discriminations in the sense of words which are +rarely acquired by foreigners. One may have all the words of a language +and not be able to understand them in sallies of wit. How nicely +adjusted then must be the scales which weigh out the innumerable and +delicate bits of pleasantry which give the charm to social life! The +words to relate the legends connected with the knights and castles of +chivalry, saints, witches, elves, spooks, and gypsies, the foreigners +among us never acquire, or at least never so as to have the ready and +delicate use of them in social life, until their foreign character has +become quite absorbed in the fully developed American, and the taste, if +not the material for picturing the customs and legends of the fatherland +are forever gone. + +It is mainly North Germany with whose institutions we have become more +or less familiar through our newspaper literature, and the numbers of +students who have from time to time gone thither for educational +purposes. Some acquaintance has also been made with Baden and +Wirtemberg, in South Germany, as these principalities have a population +mainly Protestant; and Heidelberg, at least, has been a favorite resort +for American students. But the same is not true of Catholic South +Germany. Munich's collections and institutions of art--mainly the work +of the late and still living King Lewis I.--have, indeed, become +generally known. Mary Howitt, in her 'Art Student in Munich,' has given +us some graphic delineations of life there. The talented and witty +Baroness Tautphoens has done us still better service in her 'Initials' +and 'Quits,' in relation both to life in the capital and in the +mountains; yet the character, institutions, and customs of the people +remain an almost unexplored field to the American reader. + +In the middle of the twelfth century Munich was still an insignificant +village on the Isar, and had not even been erected into a separate +parish. About this time Henry the Lion added to his duchy of Saxony, +that of Bavaria, and having destroyed the old town of Foehring, which +lay a little below the site of Munich on the other side of the river, +transferred to the latter place the market and the collection of the +customs, which had till then been held by the bishops of Freising with +the imperial consent. The emperor Frederic I., in the year 1158, +confirmed, against the remonstrances of Bishop Otho I., the doings of +Henry. The duke hastened to surround the village with a wall and moat to +afford protection to those who might choose to settle there, and in +twenty years it had become a city. But the duke fell into disgrace with +the emperor, and the latter revoked the rights he had granted; but this +was like taking back a slander which had already been circulated. The +effect had been produced. Munich was to become a capital. + +Bishop Otho's successor would gladly have destroyed the infant city and +the bridge which had been the making of it. In consequence, however, of +his early death, this beneficent purpose toward his see of Freising +remained unexecuted. The next successor continued the same policy. He +built a castle with the design of seizing the trading trains which +should take the road to Munich, perhaps deeming this the best way of +magnifying his office as a leader in the church militant. But before he +could achieve his purpose of cutting off all supplies from the rival +town, and turning trade and tribute all to his own place, a new defender +of the rising city had sprung up in the house of Wittelsbocher--the same +which still reigns over the kingdom of Bavaria,--and the matter of the +feud was finally adjusted by the quiet surrender of the bridge and the +tolls to the city. + +The imperial decree, therefore, of 1158, must be regarded as having laid +the foundation of Munich as a city, and accordingly the seven hundredth +anniversary of its founding was celebrated in the year 1858. I shall +place a notice of this _fete_ at the head of the list of those which +occurred during my residence in that capital. + +It was a part of the plan that the ceremony of laying the foundation of +a new bridge over the Isar should be performed by the king. This was +deemed specially appropriate, because the springing up of the city had +depended upon a bridge over the river to draw thither the trade which +had gone to the old Freising. This occurred on Sunday, and I did not see +it. I never heard, however, but that his majesty acquitted himself as +well in this stone mason's work as he does in the affairs of court or +state--just as well, perhaps, as one of our more democratic Chief +Magistrates, accustomed to splitting rails or other kinds of manual +labor, would have done. I took a walk with my children at evening, and +met the long line of court carriages returning, followed by a procession +on foot, the archbishop, with some church dignitaries, walking under a +canopy and distributing, by a wave of the hand at each step of his +progress, his blessing to the crowds which thronged both sides of the +broad street. Some, perhaps, prized this more than we did, but I do not +suppose that there was anything in the nature of the blessing or in the +will of the benevolent prelate to turn it from our heretical heads. + +The other parts of this celebration consisted in dinners, plays in the +theatres, a meeting at the _Rathhaus_, at which were read papers on the +development of Munich for the seven hundred years of its existence, and +a procession, the whole occupying about a week. I shall only notice +specially the procession, and in connection with it the art exhibition +for all Germany, which closed at the same time, having been in progress +for three months; for the two greatly contributed to each other. + +The illustrated weekly, published at Stuttgart by the well-known +novelist Hacklaender, under the title of _Ueber Land und Meer_, refers +to these festivities in the following terms: + + 'Munich, the South German metropolis of art, was, during the + closing days of September, transformed into a festive city. The + German artists had assembled from all parts of the country, that + they might, within those walls, charmed by the genius of the muses, + wander through the halls in which the academy had collected the + best works of German art, and take counsel upon the common + interests, as they had formerly done at Bingen and Stuttgart. The + artists and the magistracy vied with each other in preparing happy + days for the visitors--an emulation which was crowned with the most + delightful results. The artists' festival, however, was but the + harbinger to the the city of the great seventh centennial birthday + festival of the Bavarian capital, which had been so long in + preparation, and was waited for with such impatience. Concerts and + theatres opened the festal series. Services in all the churches of + both confessions consecrated the coming days, and the laying of the + foundation of the new bridge over the Isar, leading to the + Maximilianeum, formed, historically, a monumental memorial for the + occasion. Favored by the fairest of weather, the city celebrated + the main festival on the 27th of September. It was a historical + procession, moved through all the principal streets of the city, + and caused departed centuries to pass in full life before the eyes + of the citizens and the vast assemblage of strangers there present. + It was no masquerade, but a true picture of the civilization of the + city, from its first appearance in history to the present day--'a + mirrored image,' says a chronicler of the festival, 'of times long + since gone by. + + 'The twelfth century opened the procession--representations of the + present time in science, art, and industry, as developed under the + reigns of Lewis and Maximilian, which have been so promotive of all + that is great, closed it up. But one voice was heard in regard to + the success of this festival.' + +The plan was to let representatives of the people for this whole period +of seven hundred years pass before the eyes of the spectators in the +fashions and costumes of their respective ages, bearing the implements +or badges of their several guilds or professions. The preparation had +been begun months beforehand. Artists had been employed to sketch +designs. The best had been selected. The costumes were historical. We +see sometimes in every part of our country, costumes extemporized from +garrets for old folks' concerts and other like occasions, but generally +they do not correspond with each other, or with the performances. The +result is committed to accident. The actors wear what their meagre +wardrobes of the antique furnish. The wider the divergence from present +fashions the better. Chance may bring together the styles of a dozen +successive periods, and render the whole without coherence. In such an +exhibition our interest is felt simply in the grotesque. It shows us how +a countenance familiar to us is set off by a strange and outlandish +costume. It represents no history. Such was not this procession. Its +front had twelfth century costumes of peasants, burghers, and even the +ducal family. So down to the very day of the festival; for statues of +the present royal family on open cars closed up the long line. It did +not seem indeed quite right that the successive ages of the dead should +pass before us living, and the living age alone lifeless. In one part of +the procession was an imperial carriage of state drawn by six horses, a +man in livery leading each horse, with all the necessary footmen, +outriders, and outrunners. The whole was antiquity and novelty happily +combined. The costumes and insignia of all classes, with the tools and +implements of all handicrafts, from the day when Duke Henry and Bishop +Otho, seven hundred years before, had had their petty bickerings about +the tolls of a paltry village, down to the present day, the whole +transformed into a living panorama, and made to pass in about four hours +before the eye. + +To set forth great things by small, a bridal pair remove from the East +and settle in our Western wilds. In a score of years they return to +their native place, wearing the very garments in which they had stood up +and been pronounced husband and wife. The picture is equal to a volume +of history and one of comedy, the two bound in one. But here, instead of +a score of _years_ we have a score of _ages_, reaching back to a period +farther beyond that great popular movement in which modern society had +its birth, than that is anterior to our own age. If all the costumes, +fashions, implements, and tools of the house, the shop, and the field, +insignia and liveries, from those of the first Dutch settlers of New +Amsterdam, down to those of New York's belles, beaux, and beggars of the +present day, should be made to pass in review before us, how absurdly +grotesque would be the scene! That veritable 'History of New York from +the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty, by Diedrick +Knickerbocker,' has perhaps shaken as many sides and helped digest as +many dinners as almost any book since Cervantes gave the world his +account of the adventures of his knight Don Quixote, and yet this great +historical work hints but a part of that picture, though doubtless +greatly improved by the author's delicate touches, which would pass +before us in a procession illustrating two centuries of New York's +history. Using such hints, the reader may partially judge of the +impression made by this setting forth of seven centuries of a capital of +Central Europe, and yet one can hardly tell, without the trial, whether +he would rather smile at the grotesqueness of the pageant, or be lost in +the profound contemplation of the magnificent march of history reenacted +in this drama. + +This procession spoke but to the eye. It was but a tableau, dumb, though +in its way eloquent. It detailed no actions; it only hinted them. It +simply presented the men who acted, clad in the outward garb, and +bearing the tools and weapons of their day. The cut of a garment, the +form of a helmet or halberd, a saddle or a semitar, a hoe or a hatchet, +or the cut of the hair or the beard, may speak of the heart and soul, +only, however, by distant hints. But just as the representation is less +distinct and detailed, is it a mightier lever for imagination to use in +raising again to life centuries which had long slept in the dust. The +superstructure of history, indeed, which we should rear upon such a +basis, would be wide of the truth on one side, just as the narratives +and philosophical disquisitions which come to us under that name are on +the other. History generally relates those things in which all ages have +been most alike--the same which have 'been from the beginning and ever +shall be'--the intrigues of courts and of diplomacy--varied mainly by +the influence of the religion of the Bible, as at first persecuted, then +rising by degrees to a rank either with or above the state, and becoming +a persecuting power, and then finally modifying and softening down the +native rudeness of the human race, until mutual and universal tolerance +is the result; court life, diplomacy, and war, however, remaining and +still to remain the perpetual subjects of historical composition. But +between this elevated range and the humble one of burghers' tools and +costumes, lies a boundless field of aspect, variegated with all the +forms which checker social and domestic life. Oh!--thought a little +group of American spectators occupying a room near the corner of Ludwig +and Theresien streets--could we but rend the veil of time which conceals +Munich's seven hundred years of burgher and peasant life, how odd, how +rude a scene would present itself! The reader's fancy may make the +attempt. I will aid a little if I can, and there was indeed some +material furnished in addresses prepared for that occasion, and in some +other papers which have come into my hands. + +The people of that little village on the banks of the Isar were but the +owners and tillers of the barren soil. Nearly a century (1238) after +Henry the Lion had surrounded it with walls, and a local magistracy had +been chosen; when two parishes--those of St. Peter and St. Mary--had +been already long established, we find a schoolmaster signing, doubtless +by virtue of his office, a certificate of the freedom of a certain +monastery from the city customs. That the school teacher must, _ex +officio_, sign such papers, spoke volumes. How few could have had the +learning, for it must indeed be done in Latin. And then the history of +the city runs nearly a century back of this date. What was the burgher +life of that first century of Munich's history? It is but the faintest +echo that answers. Schools there were at that day and long before. Nay, +the cloister schools were already in decay; but more than three hundred +years were yet to elapse before the rise of the Jesuit schools. Three +hundred years! How can we, of this age of steam, estimate what was +slowly revolving in society in those years? In 1271 we find an order of +the bishop of Freising requiring the parish rector to have a school in +each parish of the city; half a century later than this we meet +documentary evidence that school teaching had assumed a rank with other +worldly occupations, and was no longer subject to the rector of the +parish. If I could but set the reader down in a school room of that day, +I might forego any attempt to portray the times; but, alas! I cannot. He +would, however, doubtless see there groups of boys--for I half suspect +that this was before girls had generally developed the capability of +learning--the faces and garments clean or smutty, showing the grade of +social progress which had been gained, for we may presume that the use +of soap and water had been to some extent introduced, and if so, I have +erred again, for the dirty and the ragged did not go to school. These +could do without education. We should see, too, the beaming or the dull +and leaden eye--if, indeed, the eye spoke then as now--proclaiming the +master's success or failure. And then the schoolmaster, the chief figure +in the group, would be found to have the _otium cum dignitate_, and +especially the former, in a higher sense than is now known. And what was +the staple information which circulated among the people? Of this we +know more. It was made up of adventures of knights, miracles wrought by +the host, by crucifixes and Madonnas, and apparitions of saints, leading +some emperor or prince to found a church or monastery--a kind of history +which few churches or other religious institutions want. If there was +less of life in the humanity of that age than we have at present, there +was as much more in other things; for even those holy pictures and +statues could move their eyes and other parts. They found various ways +of expressing approbation of the pious, and frowning upon scoffers. +Crucifixes and Madonnas, carried by freshets over barren fields, brought +fertility. The devil, too, figured more largely in the narratives of +days before printed books formed the basis of education. He generally +appeared in the persons of giants and witches, which latter were his +agents by special contract. Their freaks had all shades of enormity, +from the slight teasing of the housewife in her baking and churning to +the peril of life and limb and endless perdition. The devil sometimes +coming in one of these forms endangered the lives of the quiet people of +the city by formally dismissing the watch between the hours of eleven +and twelve o'clock at night. So hundreds of things which he has become +too genteel in our day to practise. + +The founding of the city was near the close of that great movement known +as the crusades. What a world of material these furnished to be used in +popular education! The feats of knights, instead of assuming distinct +forms and being stereotyped and told to them in books, were surrendered +to the popular mouth for preservation and propagation. Saints, angels, +and demons attached themselves from time to time to these circulating +myths. Original characters often dropped out, and the discrimination of +the wisest believer in the real and ideal, became confused. Then came +the period of the Hussite war. This gave rise to many a miracle of +divine judgment. The Bohemian mocker of the holy mass, or of some +wonder-working statue of the Virgin, is pursued with divine vengeance. +The Jews--how suggestive the name, in the history of mediaeval Europe, of +mystery, miracle, and murder!--were early allowed to settle in Munich. +They were assigned to a particular street. In the year 1285 a story was +started--it had been long stereotyped, and editions of it circulated in +every part of Christendom--of the murder of a Christian child. A +persecution of the Jews was the result--one hundred and forty were +burned in their own houses--and the poor Israelites must doubtless +suffer without redress, although many of them were then, as they now +are, bankers and brokers to the spiritual and temporal lords. Not far +from the same time the ducal mint was destroyed, because the people were +enraged to find the metal in their coin growing alarmingly less. For +this the city must pay a fine. + +From our first knowledge of this town it continued gradually, but very +slowly, to advance in intelligence--we should rather say from century to +century than from year to year; for during this period progress was too +slow to be perceptible, unless the observation were verified by the +pillars erected to mark the boundary lines between successive centuries. +The inquirer into the past often sighs out the wish that art had found a +way to transmit full impressions of all departed generations to the +latest living one. Perhaps he prudently limits the desired favor to +himself, otherwise the wish would not be wise; its realization would +place every lazy observer upon the same level with the studious +investigator. The cumbrous details, too, of sixty centuries piled upon +one mind would crush it, unless human nature were a very different thing +from that which we now behold. It is in accordance with a wise plan of +Providence that the deeds of past ages should perish with them, except +the few needed to cast their gleam of light upon the world's future +pathway. We are made capable of rescuing just enough for the highest +purposes of life, not enough to overwhelm and burden us in our march +toward the goal before us. It is thought by some that the point and +finish of the ancient Greek authors, as compared with the moderns, is +attributable to the fact that they were less perplexed with accumulated +lore and the multiplication of books and subjects of study. Their minds +were not subject to the dissipating effects of large libraries, and +daily newspapers with telegraphs from Asia, Africa, and Hesperia. I +shall not discuss this question. The amount of information handed down +from past ages even _now_ is but as the spray which rises above the +ocean's surface to the vast depths which lie below. The historical +fossils of those ages are therefore left to exercise the genius of the +Cuviers of historical inquiry. As that naturalist could, from a single +bone of an extinct animal species, make up and describe the animal, so +have inquirers into the past succeeded in picturing a departed age from +the few relics left of it. Hence we are treated occasionally with such +agreeable surprises in the march of history as the discovery of Pompeii, +Herculaneum, and Nineveh. The genius of our Wincklemanns, Champollions, +Humboldts, and Layards has found a worthy field. Such days as that I am +attempting to describe, representing seven centuries of a modern capital +before the admiring eyes of the present generation of its people, become +possible. Instead of the monotony of a perpetual observation, we have +the charm of alternate lulls and surprises. + +This picture has a further likeness to the naturalist's description made +from the fossils of extinct genera of animals. In the latter the animal +is made to stand before us. We have the data necessary to infer his +habits. But we see him not perfect in his wilderness home of unnumbered +ages past. We see him not the pursuer or the pursued; we hear not the +fierce growls or the plaintive note of alarm or distress. These we must +imagine. So, too, the slowly and peacefully moving train which passes +our windows, setting forth the sleeping centuries of this city. There is +the emperor in state--dukes in ducal magnificence--knights in armor with +horses richly and fancifully caparisoned--citizens in the dress of their +times--the various mechanics' and traders' guilds, with their +implements, their badges and their banners, with priests thickly +scattered through the whole line, which is ever changing as the +representatives of one age succeed those of another. The whole is calm +and quiet. The fierce contests, the angry broils, private and +public--now throwing the whole city into a ferment of innocent alarm, +now deluging its streets with blood--the rage of plagues, sealing up the +sources of human activity, and causing the stillness of the grave to +settle over the scene--all these we must supply; and surely the +thoughtful mind is busy in doing this as it contemplates the passing +train. We conceive rival claimants for the ducal throne, contending, +regardless of dying counsel, until death again settles what death had +thrown open to contest. Everything which has ever transpired on the +theatre of the world's great empires, may be conceived as enacted on +this narrower stage. The difference is less in talents and prowess than +in the extent of the field and the numbers of actors. + +From the period of the Reformation down we can form the picture with +more distinctness. Seehofen, son of a citizen of Munich, while a student +at Wittenberg, received Luther's doctrine, and through him many of his +townsmen. The most learned and able opponent whom the Reformer had to +encounter was John Eck, chancellor of the Bavarian University of +Ingolstadt--one of the most renowned at that day in Europe--which, by +removal to the capital, has now become the University of Munich. In 1522 +Duke William, of Bavaria, issued an edict forbidding any of his people +to receive the reformed doctrine. Bavaria, therefore, remained Catholic, +and Munich became the headquarters of German Catholicism. The electoral +duke, Maximilian, of Bavaria, was head of the Catholic league which +carried on the 'Thirty Years' War' against the Protestants under +Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, in the early part of the seventeenth +century. The city is full of sayings derived from this whole period, +such as to leave us no ground to wonder that few Catholics are inclined +to become Protestants. The only Protestant church in the city was built +within the last thirty years. It is but a few years since the house was +still shown in Scudlinger street, in which Luther, in his flight from +Augsburg, whither he had been called to answer for his teaching before +Cardinal di Vio in 1518,[8] stopped, his horse all in a foam, to take a +drink, and in his hurry forgot to pay for the piece of sausage which he +ate. In the market place was a likeness of Luther and his 'Katherl.'[9] +There are also numerous derisive pictures, such as the Reformer riding +upon a swine, with a sausage in his hand, which, however, all originated +in the mockery of the Jews, who were afterward compelled to surrender +some of them to the leading spirit of the Reformation. At Saurloch, a +little distance south of Munich, there were still, in 1840, to be seen +pictures of Luther and his wife in a group made up of chimney sweeps, +buffoons, and many others of the class. As this age passed before the +eyes of the spectators, they would doubtless give it new life by +attributing to it the spirit exemplified in these choice and tasteful +pictures and sayings, amusing at this day, doubtless, to both parties. + +The period of the 'Thirty Years' War' and the visit to Munich of +Gustavus Adolphus has left more sayings and monuments, and thus do more +honor to the people. After the Catholic victory near Prague, in 1620, +the elector celebrated a public entry into the city amid the jubilations +of the people and the Jesuits. A pillar was erected in remembrance of +the victory, and dedicated, eighteen years afterward, to the Virgin, in +accordance with a vow. The city was also variously adorned. The +rejoicing was somewhat premature. In 1632 the duchess and ducal family +had to remove to Salzburg for safety, whither they carried with them the +bones of St. Benno, the patron saint of the city, and other valuables. +The king of Sweden entered the walls under a promise, which he had made +in consideration of three hundred thousand florins, to be paid to him by +the people, to secure them against fire, sword, and plunder. Ladies +freely gave up their precious ornaments to make up the amount. But they +failed. The conqueror took forty-two priests of the religious orders, +and twenty respectable citizens, as hostages for the payment. These +wandered around with his camp for three years, and then all returned +except four, who died during the time. The traditions of the people give +the king credit for having strictly abstained from plunder, and executed +the only man who transgressed his rule, although the citizens failed on +their part. How beautifully the brilliant and the glorious mingle with +the sad and the sombre in the picture which we form of this age as the +passing train brings it before our minds! How religion, variously tinged +with the sable hues of superstition, wrought upon that age! The Swedish +king, the moment victory turns in his favor, dropping upon his knees in +the midst of the dead and the dying, the clouds of smoke and dust as yet +unsettled, pours out his soul in fervent prayer and thanksgiving.[10] He +but represents his army and his age. The Catholic army are not less +devout in their way. Germany is full of monuments and sayings of this +period. Those of Munich are of the Catholic side. There stands in a +public square an equestrian statue of colossal size, in bronze, of the +elector Maximilian, head of the Catholic League--his pillar to the +Virgin still stands--and the great general of the League, Count Tilley, +represented in bronze, is among the prominent objects viewed by the +visitor to this capital. On the other hand, the greatest organization in +Europe for the aid of Protestants in Catholic lands, having branches +everywhere, bears the name of Gustavus Adolphus. Let the reader then +conceive the visions which flit through the minds of the spectators as +this age passes in review before them. + +But here I shall close this part of the picture. The description of the +city as it now exists belongs in other connections. It has been +suggested, as greatly adding to the interest of this birthday festival +of the capital, that it concurred in time with the exhibition of the art +of all Germany in the Crystal Palace. Although the two had no natural +connection, yet they became so intertwined in fact as not easily to be +separated. I shall therefore just touch upon the art display. + +Works of art are dry subjects of description, and that too just in the +proportion of their exquisiteness to behold. Things made for the eye +must be presented to the eye. Works of a coarse and comic nature can, +indeed, be described so as to produce their effect. Here, for instance, +is a railroad-station man. Such in Bavaria, dressed in their quaint +little red coats, must stand with the hand to the hat as if in token of +profound respect for the train while it passes. This one, when lathered +and half shaved, was suddenly called by the train, and in this +predicament he stands while it passes. The best new work in the +exhibition was one in water colors by Professor Schwind, of Munich, +setting forth the popular German myth of the seven ravens. It sold to a +prince for seven thousand florins. I know better than to attempt a +description. The 'Raising of Jairus' Daughter,' a picture sent on by the +king of Prussia, gave the best impression I have ever had of life once +departed, and now suddenly beginning again to quiver on the lip and +gleam in the eye; or as Willis has it: + + 'And suddenly a flush + Shot o'er her forehead and along her lips, + And through her cheek the rallied color ran; + And the still outline of her graceful form + Stirred in the linen vesture;' + +thus changing the sadness of the family assembled round the couch into a +lustre sympathetic with that of her own reopened eyes. + +These specimens have been given to show that such subjects are incapable +of description. The exhibition continued from June to October, and the +collection was so extensive that a shorter period would have been +scarcely sufficient for the study of works exhibited. During this time +the characteristic enthusiasm and jealousies of the artists were +variously exemplified. The delightful hours spent in walking through +these halls will be among my latest remembrances. + +This whole festive period culminated with the closing days of September. +The city had been unusually full all summer, but as its great birthday +festival approached, the crowds thickened, until its capacity for +lodging room had been transcended. All parts of Germany were +represented, nor did delegates from the rest of the civilized world +fail. + +The question naturally arises, whether New York, Boston, or Philadelphia +has a history which would appear well in such a drama! Although our +history extends back over little more than one fourth of the period +occupied by that of Munich, it might afford this material. The annals of +public events would be found preserved with great fulness and +distinctness--the archives of city and state councils and of the +churches would supply the needed facts--but who could furnish the +fashions, tools, and implements of each successive age from that of the +Pilgrim fathers to that of the great rebellion? Who would perform the +labor of research necessary to ascertain what they were? Where is the +American court, supported at an expense of several millions per annum, +to preserve all these in collections, or to get them up for court +theatres? Who would pay for making all these for a procession of twenty +thousand persons, with all the necessary horses and carriages? And +surely, if we could not feel the confidence that everything was +historical, all our interest in the display would be gone. I am +apprehensive that we shall be obliged to leave such exhibitions to those +countries which have hereditary heads, and, making a virtue of +necessity, console ourselves with the thought that we have something +better. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 8: Luther was not in Munich at that time, if indeed he ever +was.] + +[Footnote 9: Catherine Bora, Luther's wife.] + +[Footnote 10: _Vide_ Schiller's 'Geschichte des dreisigjaehrigen +Krieges.'] + + + + +THE DANISH SAILOR. + + + Far by the Baltic shore, + Where storied Elsinore + Rears its dark walls, invincible to time; + Where yet Horatio walks, + And with Marcellus talks, + And Hamlet dreams soliloquy sublime; + + Though forms of Old Romance, + Mail-clad, with shield and lance, + Are laid in 'fair Ophelia's' watery tomb, + Still, passion rules her hour, + Love, Hate, Revenge, have power, + And hearts, in Elsinore, know joy and gloom. + + * * * * * + + Grouped round a massy gun + Black sleeping in the sun, + The belted gunners list to many a tale + Told by grim Jarl, the tar, + Old Danish dog of war, + Of his young days in battle and in gale. + + The medal at his breast, + The single-sleeved blue vest, + His thin, white hair, tossed by the Norway breeze, + His knotted, horny hand, + And wrinkled face, dark tanned, + Tell of the times when Nelson sailed the seas. + + * * * * * + + Steam-winged, upon the tides + A gallant vessel glides, + Two royal flags float blended at her fore, + Gay convoyed by a fleet, + Whose answering guns repeat + The joyous 'God speeds' thundered from the shore. + + 'Look, comrades! there she goes, + Old Denmark's Royal Rose, + Plucked but to wither on a foreign strand; + Can Copenhagen's dames + Forget their country's shames-- + Her sons, unblushing, clasp a British hand? + + 'Since that dark day of shame + Which blends with Nelson's fame, + When the prince of all the land led us on, + I little thought to see + Our noblest bend the knee + To any English queen, or her son. + + 'What the fate of battle gave + To our victor on the wave, + Was as nothing to the bitter, conscious sting, + That our haughty island foe + Struck a sudden, traitor blow, + In the blessed peace of God and the king. + + 'Ay, you were not yet born + On that cursed April morn, + When they sprang like red wolves on their prey, + And our princeliest and best + By our humblest lay at rest, + In the heart's blood of Denmark, on that day. + + 'And now, their lady queen, + O'er our martyrs' graves between, + Stoops to cull our cherished bud for her heir, + And the servile, fickle crowd + Shout their shameless joy aloud, + All but one old crippled tar--_who was there_! + + 'Till the memory shall fail + Of that treach'rous, bloody tale, + Or the grief, and the rage, and the wrong, + Shall enforce atonement due, + On some Danish Waterloo, + To be chanted by our countrymen in song, + + 'I will keep my love and truth + For the Denmark of my youth, + Nor clasp hands with her enemies alive; + Ay, I'd train this very gun + On that British prince and son, + Who comes _here_, in his arrogance, to wive. + + 'When I gave my good right arm, + And my blood was spouting warm + O'er my dying brother's face, as we lay, + I played a better part, + I bore a prouder heart, + Than the proudest in that pageant bears to-day. + + * * * * * + + '--There floats the Royal Bride, + On that unreturning tide;-- + By the blood of all the sea-kings of yore, + 'Twere better for her fame, + That Denmark sunk her shame + Where the maelstrom might drown it in his roar!' + + * * * * * + + There was silence for a space, + As they gazed upon his face, + Dark with grief, and with passion overwrought; + When out spoke a foreign tongue, + That gunner-group among: + 'Neow old Jarl ses the thing he hed'nt ought. + + 'This idee of keeping mad + Half a cent'ry, is too bad; + 'Tis onchristian, and poor policy beside; + For they say that the young man + Has the 'brass to buy the pan,' + And _her_ folks are putty sure that he'll _provide_.' + + * * * * * + + The old seaman's scornful eye + Glanced mute, but stern reply, + And the Yankee vowed and swore to me, the bard, + That old Jarl, that very night, + By the northern moon's cold light, + Talked with Hamlet's father's ghost in the back yard. + + + + +AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. + + +There are two opposite standpoints from which American civilization will +be regarded both by the present and future generations; opposite both in +respect to the views they give of American society and the judgment to +be formed thereon: so opposing, in fact, that they must ever give rise +to conflicting opinions, which can only be reconciled in individual +instances by the actual occurrence of great events, and never when +dealing with generalities. These two far distant points of view are the +foreign and the native. We are, more perhaps than any other nation in +existence, a peculiar people. Our institutions are new and in most +respects original, and cannot be judged by the experience of other +nations. Our manner of life and modes of thought--all our ideas of +individual and national progress, are _sui generis_, and our experience, +both social and political, as based upon those ideas, has been similar +to that of no other race which history records. Hence to the foreign +historian or philosopher our inner life is a sealed book; he can neither +understand the hidden springs of action which govern all the movements +of our body politic, nor appreciate the motives or the aspirations of +the American mind: in a word, he can never be imbued with the _spirit_ +of our intellectual and moral life, which alone can give the key-note to +prophecy, the pitch and tone to true and impartial history. And he who, +reasoning from the few _a priori_ truths of human nature, or from those +characteristics which the American mind possesses in common with that of +the Old World, shall pretend to treat of our systems and our +intellectual life, or to map out our future destiny, will be as much at +fault as the historian of a thousand years ago who should attempt to +portray the events of this our day and generation. The historian of +American civilization must not only be among us, but _of_ us--one who is +able not only to identify his material interests with those of the great +American people, but also to partake of our moral habitudes, to be +actuated by the same feelings, desires, aspirations, and be governed by +the same motives. By such an one alone, who is able to understand our +moral life in all its phases and bearings, can a clear and truthful view +be taken of the great events which are continually agitating our +society, and their bearings upon our present and future civilization be +correctly estimated. + +It is precisely from lack of this sympathy and of appreciation of the +difficulties under which we have labored, that America has suffered in +the opinion of the world. For the foreign view, looking upon us not as a +new people, but as the offshoot of an old and cultivated race, has +conceded to us little more than a certain mechanical ingenuity in +fitting together the parts of an edifice built upon a foundation already +laid for us away back in the ages--a carrying out of plans already +perfected for us, and requiring little of originality for their +development; forgetting that oftentimes the laying of the foundation is +the easiest part of the work, while the erection and embellishment of +the superstructure has taxed the efforts of the loftiest genius. In so +far as regards the development of the national mind, the strengthening +of the originating and energetic faculties, and the capability of +profound and well directed thought arising therefrom, we are, as a race, +deeply indebted to our progenitors of the Old World, and we have reaped +therefrom a great advantage over other nationalities in their inception. +But aside from these benefits, the cultivation of the race before the +settlement of our country has been rather a hamper upon our progress. +For here was to be inaugurated a new civilization, upon a different +basis from and entirely incompatible with that of the Old World; here +was to be established an idea antagonistic to those of the preexisting +world, and evolving a new and more progressive social life, which needed +not only a new sphere and new material, but also entire freedom from the +restraints of the old-time civilization. And it is harder to unlearn an +old lesson than to learn a new. The institutions and modes of thought of +the Old World are to the last degree unfavorable to the progress of such +a nationality as ours. Their tendency being toward the aggrandizement of +the few and the centralization of power, renders them wholly +incompatible with that freedom of thought and action, that opening up of +large fields of exertion as well as of the road to distinction and +eminence, with all their incentives to effort, which are the very life +of a majestic republic stretching over a large portion of the earth's +surface, embracing such mixed nationalities, and founded upon principles +of progress both in its physical and mental relations which have +rendered it in very truth a new experiment among the nations. We had +first to forget the divine right of kings, and the invidious +distinctions of class, with all their deep-seated and time-honored +prejudices, and to start forward in a different and hitherto despised +path toward which the iron hand of our necessity pointed, and in which +all men should be considered equal in their rights, and the position of +each should depend, not upon the distance to which he could trace a +proud genealogy, but upon the energy with which he should grapple with +the stern realities of life, the honesty and uprightness with which he +should tread its path, and the use he should make of the blessings which +God and his own exertions bestowed upon him. We had to learn the great +but simple lesson that + + 'The rank is but the guinea's stamp, + The man's the man for a' that;' + +and in so doing, to accept, for a time, the position of the Pariahs of +Christendom, through the imputation of degrading all things high and +noble to the rank of the low and vulgar, of casting the pearls of a +lofty and ennobled class before the swinish multitude, of throwing open +the doors of the treasury, that creatures of low, plebeian blood might +grasp the crown jewels which had for ages been kept sacred to the +patrician few; in a word, we had to take upon ourselves all the odium of +a despised democracy--a moral agrarianism which should make common +property of all blessings and privileges, and mingle together all +things, pure and impure, in one common hotch-potch of corruption and +degradation. Greater heresy than all this was not then known, and the +philosopher of to-day has little conception of the sacrifice required of +those who would at that time accept such a position. + +Another and not less important lesson which our ancestors had to learn +was, that national prosperity which depends upon the learning and +refinement or energy of a certain privileged class, can never be +otherwise than ephemeral; that the common people--the low plebeians, +whom they had been taught to consider of the least importance in the +state, are in reality the strength of the land; and that in the +amelioration of their condition, in the education and mental training of +the masses, while at the same time placing before them the highest +incentives to individual exertion, lies the only sure basis of an +enduring prosperity--that the only healthful national growth is that +which is made up of the individual strivings of the great mass rather +than the self-interested movements of the few; and as a consequence of +this truth, that the privileged minority is really the least important +of the two classes in any community. In the infancy of government, when +a rude and unlettered people are little able to take care of +themselves, the establishment of class distinctions is undoubtedly +conducive to progress, as it tends to unite the people, thereby +counteracting the thousand petty jealousies and strifes and bickerings +which invariably beset an infant people, and to organize and systematize +all progressive effort. It is, in fact, a putting of the people to +school under such wholesome restraints as shall compel them forward +while guarding them against those evil influences which militate against +their prosperity. But in the course of events the time comes when these +restraints are no longer necessary, but rather become hampers upon the +wheels of progress; and when that period arrives, all these invidious +distinctions should, in a well-regulated state, gradually disappear and +give place to that freedom which is essential to individual advancement +as the basis of national power. Trained as our ancestors had been to +consider these distinctions divinely appointed, it was no easy task for +them to abrogate so aged and apparently sacred a system, and nothing but +the material evidence before their eyes in the experience of their own +society, convincing them that such a course was an actual necessity of +their future well-being, could have induced them so to depart from the +teachings of their progenitors. Nor was it less difficult to determine +how far these safeguards of the olden time might safely be dispensed +with, or where or how deeply the knife should be applied which, in the +fallibility of human judgment, might possibly cut away some main root of +their social organization. Here was required the exercise of the +profoundest wisdom and the most careful discretion--wisdom unassisted by +any experience in the past history of the world other than that of the +utter failure of all past experiments in any way similar to their own. +To us of to-day, viewed in the light of intervening experience and of +the increased knowledge of human affairs, this may seem a little thing; +but to them it was not so, for the path was new and untried, and they +were surrounded by the thickest of darkness. Thus it will be seen that +in the founding of our system there were great difficulties, which only +the loftiest aims and the utmost firmness and determination in the cause +of the good and the true, with the liveliest sense of the necessities +and the yearnings of human nature, and the true end of all human +existence, could have overcome,--difficulties which, with all the +cultivation of their past, rendered their task not less arduous than +that of the founders of any community recorded in history even among the +rudest and most savage of peoples. And for all their energy and +perseverance the world has not yet given them the credit which is their +due, although the yearly developing results of their labors are +gradually restoring them to their proper position in the appreciation of +humanity. And the time will come when their memory will be cherished all +over the earth as that of the greatest benefactors of the human kind. As +the Alpine glacier year after year heaves out to its surface the bodies +of those who many decades ago were buried beneath the everlasting snows, +so time in its revolutions heaves up to the view of the world, one by +one, the great facts of the buried past, to be carefully laid away in +the graveyard of memory, with a towering monument above them to mark to +all succeeding ages the spot where they have wrought in the interest of +humanity. + +Another evil effect of this same foreign view is to lead the world to +expect of us, the descendants of an old and polished civilization, more +than is warranted by the facts of our history or even by the +capabilities of human nature in its present stage. And this, too, arises +from a false estimate of the difficulties which have beset us on every +side, and from the paucity of the world's experience, and consequent +knowledge, of such experiments as our own. The march of human +advancement has but just begun in this its new path; and it is but +little wonder that, excited by our past successes, and stimulated to an +inordinate degree as their ideas of progress have become through the new +truths which our efforts have brought to light, the friends of human +freedom all over the world should expect from us more astonishing +developments, more rapid progress, than is compatible with the frailties +and fallibilities of our humanity. Hence in the light of this morbid +view our greatest successes are looked upon as somewhat below the +standard which our advantages demand. + +With the foreign view we, as a nation, have nothing to do. We must be +content to act entirely independently of the opinions of the outside +world, being only careful steadfastly to pursue the path of right, +leaving to future ages to vindicate our ideas and our motives. So only +can we possess that true national independence which is the foundation +of all national dignity and worth, and the source of all progress. We +must free ourselves from all the hampering influences of old-time dogmas +and worn-out theories of social life, content to submit to the +aspersions of Old-World malice, confident that time will prove the +correctness of our policy. So only can we throw wide open the doors of +investigation, and give free scope to those truths which will not fail +to follow the earnest strivings of a great people for the purest right +and the highest good. + +In estimating any civilization at its true value, the law of God is +obviously the highest standard. Yet in these days of divided opinion and +extended scepticism, when scarcely any two hold exactly the same +religious views, and when all manner of beliefs are professedly founded +on Holy Writ, such a comparison would only result in as many different +estimates as there are reflecting minds, and the investigation would be +in no degree advanced. Even the moral sense of our own community is so +divided upon the distinctions of abstract right, that the application of +such a standard to our civilization would only open endless fields of +useless because interested and bigoted discussions. + +There are two other and more feasible methods of conducting such an +investigation; the first of which is that of comparing our own +civilization with that of Europe; marking the differences, and judging +of them according to our knowledge of human nature and the light of past +experience and analogy. Yet such a course presents the serious objection +of preventing an impartial judgment through the strong temptation to +self-laudation, which is in itself the blinding of reason as well as the +counteraction of all aspirations for a still higher good. + +The third and last method is that which takes cognizance of the most +obvious and deeply felt evils connected with our own system, and +reasoning from universally conceded principles of abstract right, and +from the highest moral standard of our own society, to study how they +may best be remedied and errors most successfully combated. From such a +course of investigation truth cannot fail to be evolved, and the moral +appreciation of the thinker to be heightened. For such a method presents +less danger of partiality from local prejudices, religious bias, or +national antipathy. And such is the method which we shall endeavor to +pursue. + +Judging from mankind's sense of right, of justice, and of that moral +nobility which each individual's spiritual worthiness seems to demand, a +pure democracy is the highest and most perfect form of government. But +such a system presupposes a _perfect_ humanity as its basis, a humanity +which no portion of the earth has yet attained or is likely to attain +for many ages to come. Hence the vices as well as the weaknesses of +human nature render certain restraints necessary, which are more or +less severe according as the nation is advanced in moral excellence and +intellectual cultivation, and which must gradually disappear as the race +progresses, giving place to others newer and more appropriate to the +changing times and conditions of men. Under this view that progress in +the science of government is alone healthy which keeps exact pace with +the moral progress of the nation, and tends toward a pure democracy in +exactly the degree in which the people become fitted to appreciate, to +rationally enjoy, and faithfully guard the blessings of perfect liberty. +Too rapid progress leads to political anarchy by stimulating, to a +degree unsustained by their acquirements and natural ability, the +aspirations of the ambitious and the reckless, thereby begetting and +nationalizing a spirit of lawlessness which grasps continually at +unmerited honors, and strives to make all other and higher +considerations bend to that of individual advancement and personal +vanity. The truth of this position is seen in the utter failure of all +attempted democratic systems in the past, which may be traced to this +too eager haste in the march of human freedom, ending invariably in the +blackest of despotism, as well as from the fact in our own history that +every era of unusual political corruption and reckless strife for +position and power, has followed close upon the moral abrogation of some +one of those safeguards which the wisdom of our fathers threw around our +political system. + +On the other hand, advancement which does not keep pace with the +expansion of thought, the intellectual development, and consequent +capacity of the people for self-government, not only offers no +encouragement to effort, but actually discourages all striving, and +blunts the appetites of the searchers for truth. It fossilizes the +people, retards the march of intellect by its reactionary force, and +rolls backward the wheels of all progress, till the nation becomes a +community of dull, contented plodders, fixed in the ruts of a bygone +age, suffering all its energy and life to rust away, day by day, in +inaction. Such we find to be the case with those nations of the Old +World which are still ruled by the effete systems of a feudal age. The +governmental policy and the intellectual status of the masses mutually +react upon each other, effectually neutralizing all progress, whether +moral or physical. + +For these reasons that nicely graduated mean between political +recklessness and national old fogyism, which alone guarantees an +enduring progress, is the object of search to all disinterested +political reformers. For only by following such a golden mean, in which +political reform shall keep even pace with intellectual and moral +advancement, can physical and mental progress be made mutually to +sustain each other in the onward march. Yet this mean is extremely +difficult to find, for though we be guided by all the experience of the +past, and earnestly and sincerely endeavor to profit by the failures as +well as the successes of those who have gone before us, the paths of +experiment are so infinite and the combinations of method so boundless, +that the wisest may easily be led astray. Hence the failures of the +republics of the past, however pure the motives and lofty the aims of +their founders, may be attributed to a leaning to one side or the other +of this strait and narrow way, which lies so closely concealed amid the +myriad ramifications of the paths of method. The slightest divergence, +if it be not corrected, like the infinitesimal divergence of two +straight lines, goes on increasing to all time, till that which was at +first imperceptible, becomes at last a boundless ocean of intervening +space, which no human effort can bridge. + +To say that we, as a nation, are following closely this golden mean, +that our wisdom has enabled us to discover that which for so many ages +has remained hidden from men, were simply egotistical bombast; for it +were to assert that with us human nature had lost its fallibility and +human judgment become unerring. Yet we may safely assert that no system +exists at the present day which so clearly tends toward the attainment +of such a mean, and which contains within itself so many elements of +reform, as our own. For ours is a system of extreme elasticity, a sort +of compensation balance, constructed with a view to the changing climate +of the political world, and capable of accommodating itself to the +shifting condition of men and things. And this not by forcing or leading +public sentiment, but by yielding to it. Thus while it is founded upon, +and in its workings evolves, so many lofty and ennobling truths, keeping +constantly before the eyes of the people lessons of purity and moral +dignity, acting as a check upon the visionary and a safeguard to our +liberties, it nevertheless yields quietly to the requirements of the +times, and changes according to the necessities of the governed, thus +being far from proving a hamper upon our intellectual advancement, but, +on the contrary, leaving free and unimpeded the paths of national +progress. And it is one of the most distinctive features of our +institutions that, while few foreign Governments admit of much change +without danger of revolution, with us the most thorough reforms may be +consummated and the greatest changes effected without danger of ruffling +the waves of our society. For with us change is effected so gradually +and in such exact consonance with the necessities of the people as to be +almost imperceptible, and to afford no handle to the turbulent and +designing revolutionist. The gratification of legitimate ambition is +guaranteed, but our system utterly revolts against the sacrifice of the +public good to the inordinate cravings of personal ambition or +aggrandizement. It is in recognition of this principle of gradual change +that the politician of to-day hesitates not to avow and to advocate +principles which twenty years ago he deemed the height of political +absurdity. It is not abstract truth that has altered, but the necessary +modification of theories resulting from the altered condition and +exigencies of society. Were this truth not recognized, no statesman +could for many years retain his hold upon the popular appreciation, for +he would at once be branded with inconsistency and incontinently thrown +aside as an unsafe counsellor. Hence the hackneyed phrase, 'ahead of the +times,' contains within itself a deep and important meaning, since it is +but a recognition of the fact that relative right and wrong may change +with the condition of society, and that theories may be beneficial in a +more advanced stage, which at present would be noxious in the extreme, +and that, in consequence, he is an unsafe leader who grasps at some +exalted good without making sure of the preliminary steps which alone +can make such blessings durable--who would, at a single leap, place the +nation far ahead in the race of improvement, without first subjecting it +to that trial and discipline which are absolutely necessary to fit it +for a new sphere. And the extreme disfavor with which such agitators are +regarded by society is an evidence of the safeguard which our +institutions contain within themselves, which, by moulding the minds of +the people to a proper appreciation of the blessings of limited reform +and of the inevitable and necessary stages and degrees of progress, as +well as of the danger of too sudden and radical change, effectually +counteract the evil influence of the unmethodical and empirical +reformer. + +Our Government, in its form, can in no sense of the word be called a +democracy, however much its workings may tend toward such a result in +some far-distant future. It is founded in a recognition of the fact that +however equal all men may be in their civil and political +rights--however the humblest and most ignorant member of the community +may be entitled to 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' all +men are not equal either in intellectual endowments or personal +acquirements, and consequently in their influence upon society, or +equally fitted either to govern or to choose their rulers. Our ancestors +recognized the fact that the people are not, in the democratic sense of +the term, fitted to govern themselves. Hence they threw around their +system a network of safeguards, and adopted and firmly established +restraints to counteract this principle of democratic rule, without +which our infant republic would soon have fallen to pieces by the force +of its own internal convulsions. And time has proven the wisdom of their +course, and we shall do well if we shall reflect long and deeply before +we essay to remove the least of those restraints, remembering that when +once the floodgate is opened to change, the eternal tide is set in +motion, and a precedent established which will prove dangerous if it be +not carefully restrained within the limits of the necessities of the +times. + +To draw an illustration from the constitution of our body politic: we +find that the people meet in their primary elections, and choose a +representative to their State legislature, which representative is, +_theoretically_, considerably advanced above his constituents in +intellect, and in knowledge and experience of governmental affairs, and +of the necessities of the nation; by whom, in conjunction with his +colleagues--and not by the people themselves--a Senator is chosen to +represent the State in the national Congress,--which Senator, in his +turn, _theoretically_, is elevated above his constituents, not by the +fortuitous circumstance of birth or of worldly possessions, but in point +of intellect and acquirements, and consequent capacity to govern. Again, +the people do not directly choose their President, but select certain +electors, to whose superior wisdom and judgment is intrusted the task of +determining who is most fitted to rule the nation for the coming +presidential term. In the single instance of the representative to +Congress do the people choose directly from among themselves. And this +was adopted as a wise precaution that he, springing directly from their +midst, owing both his present and future position to their suffrages, +more closely identified with them in interest, and partaking more nearly +of their modes of thought, and who from the shortness of his term might +easily be displaced if he should prove recreant to his trust, thus +having every inducement to correctly represent the sentiments and +protect the rights of his constituents, might act as a check upon that +other house, which, further removed in every respect from the people, +elected more in accordance with, the aristocratic institutions of the +mother country, and from this exalted and exclusive position, and long +term of office, more liable to aristocratic influences, might be tempted +to combine for the consolidation of power and the gratification of +personal ambition, even at the expense of the liberties of the people. + +Such is the _theory_ of our form of Government; the practical working of +it has altered with the times. While the form of the Constitution is +still observed to the letter, the spirit is, in a great measure, +abrogated. The people now choose only those representatives whose +sentiments are well known and whose future course can safely be +predicated--only those electors who stand pledged to cast their votes +for a designated candidate. Yet even now there is nothing to prevent +those representatives from pursuing a course entirely opposed +to all previous professions, and the known wishes of their +constituents--nothing to hinder those electors from casting their votes +for some third party, or combining to place in the executive chair some +unknown person whom the people have not chosen or desired; nothing, if +only we except the eternal odium and political damnation of public +opinion. Yet it may well be questioned if this same public opinion be +not after all the safest custodian of the public interest, the most +powerful restraint which could be imposed upon these representatives of +the people to compel them to a strict performance of their trust. + +Yet while, as we have said, a pure democracy is but another term for the +highest type of civilization, the fact that our form of Government is +not in any sense of the word a democracy, is no argument against our +civilization, but rather in its favor. For it is but a recognition of +the fact that no people on earth is yet fitted for a pure democracy as a +basis of their institutions: it is an adapting of ourselves to that +state of things for which we are most fitted, instead of grasping at +some Utopian scheme of perfection, which the common sense of the nation +tells us is beyond our present capacity. On the other hand, it is a +frank acknowledgment of our own defects and frailties. As the '[Greek: +gnothi seauton]' of the heathen philosophers contained within itself the +germ of all individual philosophy and moral progress, so does it +comprehend the whole problem of national growth and progress. It is only +the rudest, most ignorant and barbarous nation that arrogates to itself +perfection: it is that nation only which, conscious of no defects, sees +no necessity for reform, and has no incentive thereto. The consciousness +of defects, both physical and moral, is the life of all reform, and +hence of all progress; while the capacity to detect error in our system +implies the ability for thorough reform, and the cultivation which +underlies such knowledge implies the inclination to effect it. The +establishment of a pure democracy in our midst, in the present state of +human advancement, were evidence of a lack of that civilization which +depends upon earnest thought and a proper appreciation of the present +capabilities as well as the frailties and imperfections of our humanity. + +We have seen that while, in the matter of choosing our rulers and +legislators, our institutions are, in their practical workings, +democratic, in form they are by no means so. This cannot long remain so. +An empty form is of little value, and ere many years the country will +either return to the principles of the olden time--which in the present +advanced state of public sentiment is not likely--or else sweep away the +form and simplify the whole system. Already the question has begun to be +agitated of submitting the presidential vote directly to the people +without intervention of electors. But it may well be doubted whether, in +the light of the political corruption of to-day, even this be not too +great an advance upon the democratic principle for the moral condition +of our people. For many years our country has been the victim of a +demagoguism, resulting from the working of this very principle, and the +question admits of serious discussion whether, instead of abrogating the +form, a return to the _spirit_ of the Constitution, while, at the same +time, holding strictly amenable those to whom this important choice is +intrusted, would not result in a pure and more statesmanlike +administration of public affairs. For the elector, being held +politically responsible for the conduct of the candidate for whom his +vote was cast, and for all the evils resulting from mal-administration, +would soon learn that to be faithful is not less important than to be +wise, and that his political interest was identified with the well-being +of the country. But it is one of the evils of our rapid progress that +the past is looked upon with such disfavor as to effectually prevent a +return even upon the path of error. In the pride of our civilization the +simpler theories of the olden time are despised as unworthy of, if not +wholly unfitted for, our present exalted intellectuality. The principle +is ignored that reform may sometimes be effected by retracing the steps +of years. Hence reform in this particular must either adopt the +dangerous experiment of establishing the pure democratic principle, or +else devise some third plan which shall charm by its novelty at the same +time that it is founded upon some evident and abiding truth. + +And in this connection another great evil becomes evident which is in +itself a fault of our civilization, and not a defect arising from any +fundamental error in our system; an evil which, although always +predominant, has been more active in its workings, more injurious in its +effects during the present war than ever before. It is the spirit of +bitter, uncharitable, and even malicious opposition of the minority to +the acts and theories of the party in power, forgetting that no great +evil was ever yet effectually counteracted by opposition, which only +fans the flame and makes the fire burn hotter. And while no good can be +effected by such opposition, its direful effect is to divide the +councils of the nation, to paralyze the executive arm in all times of +great emergency, to render but half effectual every great national +enterprise, to make wavering the national policy, to exasperate +political parties more and more against each other, thereby dividing the +people and weakening the national life and progress, preventing all +concentration of effort and unanimity of purpose, and--worst of +all--subjecting the country periodically to the violent shock of +opposing systems, according as parties alternate in power, tossing the +ship of state in the brief period of a four years' term from one wave of +theory to another, and opposing one, only to be hurled back as violently +as before. Can it be doubted that such a state of affairs is injurious +to prosperity and either political or social advancement? Were the +results of every Administration for _good_, there would be less danger; +but radical evils cannot but result from the bitter partisanship of the +party in power, and when the scale is reversed and the opposite party +gains the ascendency, the new Administration has scarcely time to +correct the errors of its predecessors and to establish its own theory, +ere the popular tide ebbs and flows again in the opposite direction, the +ins are out and the outs are in, and again the alternation begins. +Certainly party divisions are the life of a republic, from their +tendency to counterbalance each other, and periodically reform abuses, +thus keeping the vessel in the straight course; yet when those divisions +reach the point which we see in our midst to-day, when the avowal of any +principle or theory by the one party, however just or beneficial it may +seem, is but the signal for the uncompromising hostility and bitter +denunciation of the opposition, who seek to make of it a handle to move +the giant lever of political power, unmindful of the wants and the +urgent necessities of the land--a hostility having for its basis the +single fact that the new measures are unfortunately advocated by the +opposite party--then such divisions become not only injurious to the +body politic, but a foul blot upon the civilization of our day and +nation. This is perhaps putting the question in a strong light; but, +admitting that we have not yet reached that point, are we not swiftly +drifting in that direction? Let every candid thinker put the question to +himself and ponder it deeply, remembering, while looking for the +ultimate result, that it was the bitter hostility of opposing factions +which ruined the republics of old, and which to-day convulse many that +might otherwise take rank among the most powerful and progressive +nations of the earth, neutralizing their progress, and holding them +constantly suspended above the gulf of anarchy and desolation. + +Ask the oppositionist of to-day what he proposes or expects to +accomplish by his hostility to the powers that be, and he will answer +to little purpose. A vague idea is floating in his brain of some 'good +time coming' for his party, yet he knows very little what or when this +good time shall be, living on in the hope of some unknown event which +shall reverse the political chessboard. The opposition of to-day is that +of ultra conservatism to radicalism, of which the tendency of the one is +toward the stationary, that of the other to the rapidly progressive. The +so-called conservative, apparently blind to the result, and looking to a +return of the nation to the worn-out theories of the past as the result +of the efforts of his clique, is straining every nerve to paralyze the +arm of the Government, and to neutralize the effect of every great +achievement, doing everything in his power to exasperate the large +majority who are endeavoring to sustain the country in her hour of +peril, seemingly unconscious that in so doing he is not only working +steadily to defeat his own purpose, but also paving the way for the +destruction of his faction. For he is endeavoring to drag the country +backward along the track of years--an object which, as all history +proves, can never be effected with any progressive race; on the +contrary, such nations have ever owed their ruin to the inevitable +tendency to too rapid advancement. Again, by embittering the feelings of +his opponents toward himself and his coadjutors, he is effectually +preventing any future reconciliation and cooeperation of the divided +factions, in which only could he hope for success, and raising up a +powerful opposition which will counteract all his future efforts. + +A purer civilization would look at this question of party divisions in a +different light, recognizing it as an institution of Providence, whereby +great good may be effected when its benefits are properly appreciated, +and at the same time as a terrible engine of destruction when misused or +not properly controlled. A purer civilization would recognize and +candidly acknowledge every element of good in the theories of even the +fiercest opponents, and heartily cooeperate in every enterprise whose +tendency was to the national good, working steadily and cheerfully side +by side with rivals and political opposers, and confining its own +opposition strictly to those measures of which the effect is, judged by +its own standard, obviously evil. The _role_ of the true reformer is to +glide quietly along with the tide of events, becoming reconciled to +those measures which, though contrary to his own convictions, are +nevertheless too firmly established to admit of being shaken by his most +powerful efforts; and so while carefully avoiding all unnecessary +antagonisms, all useless stirring up of old bitternesses, to seek so to +identify himself with the current of events, and so to become part and +parcel of the nation's political life and progress, as to be enabled to +guide into the channel of future good the movement which at first +started awry. Even where the vessel has widely diverged from the path of +good, and follows that which leads to inevitable destruction, it is his +part, instead of wasting his powers in useless struggles to stay her +course, to continue on as part and parcel of the precious freight, +seeking opportunity so to guide the erring prow that she shall be +gradually diverted from the evil course toward some distant and advanced +point of the forsaken track, without being violently dragged back along +her wake. So reaching at last the accustomed course, the good ship will +still be far advanced upon her way with all the benefits of past +experience of evil to act as a warning against future digressions from +the established path of progress. It will be time enough then to point +out the dangers she has escaped, and to argue the absurdity of the olden +theories which have so seriously interfered with her navigation. By such +a course alone will he secure the respect of his opponents, and the +love and admiration of those who never fail to appreciate sterling +integrity of purpose, uprightness of motives, and persevering effort in +the cause of the public good, which is that of the right and the true; +and so only will he quiet and disarm that factious spirit which would +otherwise be ever ready to start into a violent opposition at his first +effort in the public cause. Nor must such a course imply time-serving or +sycophancy, or the least concealment of any of the loftiest and noblest +sentiments. In any matter of wrong, where the voice and the concentrated +effort of the true philanthropist can avail to check the nation's +career, the voice of the reformer should not fail to be raised in its +most powerful tones, and all his energy exerted to form such political +and social combinations as shall effect his purpose. But in those stages +which are prominent in every nation's progress, when the tide of public +opinion sets full and irresistibly in one direction, sweeping along all +thought and energy in its course, against which it were madness to +contend until the tempest shall have worn itself out by its own +violence--more especially when the great questions involve a mere +difference of opinion as to the results of important measures or the +general tendency of the public policy--then, when opposition would only +serve to arouse a factious or disputatious spirit, his part is to glide +quietly along with the popular movement, acquiescing in and reconciling +himself to the condition of affairs till such time as the public +sentiment is ripe, and the circumstances fitting for the advocacy and +the triumph of his own views; meanwhile letting no opportunity escape to +guide the national mind and direct the nation's strivings to such a +consummation. + +By such a course only can he effect great results and make durable the +establishment of his own cherished principles. + + + + +CHURCH MUSIC. + + +From the earliest Christian period of which we have any knowledge, music +has been employed in the public worship of Christian communities. Its +purposes are, to afford to the devotion of the worshippers a means of +expression more subtile than even human speech, to increase that +devotion, and to add additional lustre and solemnity to the outward +service offered to God. Music has a wonderful power in stirring the +souls of men, in (so to speak) moving the soil of the heart, that the +good seed sown by prayer and instruction may find ready entrance, and a +wholesome stimulus to facilitate growth. Now, it is the duty of all +concerned in the ordering of public worship to see that the music +employed tends to effect these ends. + +In the year 1565, the composers of church music were in the habit of +employing so many and well-known secular melodies, and of rearing upon +them and upon their own inventions such complicated and unintelligible +contrapuntal structures, that the church authorities took the matter +seriously in hand, and there is no knowing what might have been the +final sentence, had not Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina brought his +genius to the rescue, and, in sundry compositions, especially in a +six-part mass, dedicated to Pope Marcellus II., shown that science need +not exclude clearness, and the possibility of hearing the words sung, +and that the truly inventive artist has no need to seek his themes in +inappropriate spheres. + +In this day we run little risk of ship-wreck through too great an amount +of science. Scarlatti and Bach would laugh at the efforts styled 'canon' +and 'fugue,' by the aspiring tyros of the present age. Our difficulties +arise, not from musical complexity, but from want of suitableness, +adaptation, and characterization, together with the ever-increasing feud +between choir and congregational singing. In some churches on the +Continent of Europe, these two latter modes are happily blended, certain +services or portions of services being left to the choir, and the +remainder being entrusted to the entire congregation. Of course this +arrangement is only practicable where there is a certain variety in the +musical portion of the service. Where the singing of hymns (in the +ordinary sense of the phrase) is the only musical form used in the +worship, such differences would be difficult to establish, and a variety +of circumstances must determine which of the two modes, or what +combination of them, be selected by the congregation. Even where +splendor is studiously avoided, all desire order and decency in the +conduct of public worship, and such order is painfully violated where +discordant sounds or unsuitable selections of music are permitted to +distract attention and disturb devotion. A ragged carpet, faded fringes, +or dingy window panes, would speedily find a reformer; and surely the +sensitive, defenceless ear has as good a claim to exact order as the +more voluntary sense of seeing. Better, indeed, no music, than such as +binds the wings of the soul to earth instead of aiding them to fly +heavenward. + +The above remarks apply as well to choir as to congregational singing. +Let us suppose now that the mere primal foundation--the mechanical +execution--be respectably good; that the congregation or choir have been +taught to sing in tune; that all be harmonious and properly balanced; in +short, that the auditory nerves be spared any very severe shock--and +what then will we ordinarily find? A few good old church melodies, +almost lost amid a dreary maze of the most recent droning platitudes, or +a multitude of worldly acquaintances, negro minstrelsy, ancient love +ditties, bar room roundelays, passionate scenes from favorite operas, +with snatches from instrumental symphonies, concertos, or what not! +Music, as I have said, is even more subtile in its power of expression +than speech, and the _new words_, which we may perhaps not even hear, +can never banish from our minds the _old impressions_ associated with +the melody. The ears may even be cognizant of the holy sentiments +intended to be conveyed, but the mind's eye will see Sambo, 'First upon +the heel top, then upon the toe;' the love-lorn dame weeping her false +lover, 'Ah, no, she never blamed him, never;' a roystering set of good +fellows clinking glasses, 'We won't go home till morning;' Lucia +imploring mercy from her hard-hearted brother and selfish suitor; Norma +confiding her little ones to the keeping of her rival; or perhaps the +full orchestra at the last 'philharmonic,' supplying the missing notes, +the beginning and the end of some noble idea, now vainly struggling with +the difficulties and incongruities of its new position, its maimed +members mourning their incompleteness, its tortured spirit longing for +the body given by the original creator. + +Are we Christians then so poor that we must go begging and stealing +shreds and patches from our more fortunate secular brethren? Has music +deserted us to dwell solely in the camps of the gypsying world? If so, +there must be some fault among ourselves, for music is a pure gift from +God, the only _earthly_ pleasure _promised_ us in heaven. Such +imputation would indeed be a libel upon the almost infinite variety in +the character of music, and its power of consecration to the very +loftiest ends. Ah! there we fear is the rub. _The character of music!_ +_That_ seems to have been forgotten. If all these melodies be adapted to +their original aims, can they be suited to new ones so different? Is +there really in musical form, rhythm, melody, and harmony, no capacity +for any real expression? Will the same tune do as well for a dance as +for a prayer, for a moonlight serenade as for an imploration of Divine +mercy? + +Now we have no quarrel with dances; they are innocent and useful in +their proper place; human love is a noble gift from the Almighty; we are +not shocked by a good drinking song, provided the singers be sober; +operas _might_ be made highly instrumental in elevating the tone of +modern society; and we listen reverentially to the grand creations of +the masters; but, in addition to all these, we require a music adapted +to signify the relations between ourselves and our Heavenly Father, a +music which shall express adoration and love, praise and thanksgiving, +contrition and humble confidence, which shall implore mercy and waft +prayer to the very gates of the abode of omnipotence. Let such music be +simple or complex, according to the thought to be rendered or the +capacity of the executants, let it be for voices, for instruments, or +for a blending of the two, but let it always be appropriate to the +subject, and rise with the thought or emotions to be conveyed. Who can +tell what would be the effect of such a church music? What a feeling of +earnestness and sincerity would it not lend to services now often marred +by the shallowness or meretricious glitter of their musical portions? +The range is wide, the field broad; there is scope for grandeur, +sublimity, power, jubilation, the brightest strains of extatic joy, +mourning, pathos, and the passionate pleading of the human soul severed +from its highest good; but all should be in accordance with the dignity +of the personalities represented: on the one hand, the Father and +Creator of all, and on the other, the weak, erring, dependent creature, +made, nevertheless, in the image of his Creator, and for whom a God +thought it no unworthiness to live, to suffer, and to die. + +Have we any such music? Yes--a little; but that little is not always the +best known nor the most frequently employed. Are there any composers now +capable of writing such? Are the composers of genius, or even of talent, +sufficiently earnest and devout? for here we want no shams. Each one +must answer these questions in accordance with his own experience. The +practical question is, What can be done toward an amelioration of the +present state of affairs, not confined to this continent, but unhappily +only too prevalent everywhere? Let the head of the musical department of +every church service begin by weeding from his repertory all _trash_, +whether profane or simply stupid and nonsensical. As the number of +musical creations remaining will not be very large, let him retain for +the present all that are not positively bad or inane; a few old song +melodies have, through long usage, lost their original associations, and +hence, though perhaps only imperfectly adapted to devotional purposes, +are yet, on the whole, unobjectionable, and perhaps better than many +modern inventions. + +An idea seems prevalent that, to write words for music is an easy task, +and hence the many wounds inflicted upon both music and poetry in their +frequent union. When a melody is to be composed for a set of verses, the +same melody to be sung to every verse, the composer naturally examines +the general tone and form of the poem. These of course determine his +selection of rhythmical character, of time, key, movement, etc. The +melody is constructed upon the basis of the first verse. To the words +embodying the most important thoughts or feelings, he gives the most +important, the emphatic notes, striving to make the sound a faithful and +intensifying medium whereby to convey the sense. _His_ work is then +done, as the same melody is to be repeated to every verse, and the end +sought will have been attained if the poet have carefully fulfilled +_his_ part. But if he have introduced inequalities into his rhythm, or +have given unimportant words the places occupied by important ones in +the first verse, so that an emphatic note will fall upon an 'in,' or a +'the,' or some similar particle, the effect will be bad, and the result +unsatisfactory to all concerned. Old association, or intrinsic beauty of +poetry or melody may, in rare cases, render such blemishes tolerable, +but the creator of a new work should strive to avoid all blemishes, and +at least _aim_ at perfection. + +If to each good religious poem we possess, or may hereafter possess (be +that poem psalm, hymn, sequence, litany, prayer, or form of doctrine), +we could attach, or find attached, the musical form best adapted to its +highest expression, what delight would we not experience in its +rendering? Some such poems might, by reason of old associations, or of +especial adaptation, be always sung to the same melodies, while to +others might be accorded greater facilities for variety. This only by +way of suggestion. The common practice of selecting melodies for verses, +hap-hazard, with regard only to the 'metre,' of course destroys all +possibility of any especial characterization. If the original 'marriage' +have been a congenial one, a divorce, with view to a second union, +rarely proves advisable. The same verses may bear another musical +rendering, but the music will very rarely endure adaptation to other +verses. + +But we left our _maestro di capella_, our head of the music in any +religious assemblage, weeding his repertory. A difficult task! for, to +sound principles of discrimination he must add the best counsel and the +widest information he can procure from every competent quarter, not +narrow nor one-sided, but commensurate with the breadth, the world-wide +diffusion of the subject. + +We cannot hope for very speedy progress in this matter, so large a share +of its advancement depending upon general, real and proper musical +cultivation; but if each one interested will think the matter over +seriously and intelligently, and do the little that may lie in his +power, a beginning will have been made, which may in the end lead to +grand, beautiful, and most precious results. + + + + +APHORISM.--NO. IX. + + +Our Saviour says of life: 'I have power to lay it down, and power to +take it again.' We have not such power in our own hands; but our Lord +holds it for us, so that our position is independent of the world, and +of the power of evil, just as His was; and as in His case He did resume +more than He laid down, so will be given to us by the same Almighty hand +more than any creature has to surrender for the highest objects of +existence. + +Such doctrine, I may add, is not, in its essence, merely Christian: it +has been the common sentiment of our race, that one of the highest +privileges of our being is to sacrifice ourselves, in various modes and +degrees, for the good of our fellow men; and those who cheerfully do +this, even if it be in the actual surrender of life, are esteemed +blessed, as they are also placed above others in the ranks of honorable +fame, and held to be secure of the final rewards of a heavenly state. + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + + LIFE OF WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. By GEORGE + TICKNOR. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. + +There are no discordant voices on either side of the Atlantic with +regard to the literary merits of William H. Prescott. Truth, dignity, +research, candor, erudition, chaste and simple elegance, mark all he has +ever written. His noble powers were in perfect consonance with his noble +soul. His strict sense of justice shines in all its brilliancy, in his +evident desire to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, of every +character appearing in his conscientious pages. No current of popular +prejudice, however strong, swerves him from his righteous path; no +opportunity for glitter or oratorical display ever misleads him; no +special pleading bewilders his readers; no 'might is right' corrupts +them. His genius is pure, dramatic, and wide; his comprehension of +character acute and clear; his characterization of it, chiselled and +chaste; his ready comprehension of magnanimous deeds evinces his own +magnanimity; his correct understanding of various creeds and motives of +action proves his own wide Christianity; chivalry was known to him, +because he was himself chivalrous; and we have reason to rejoice that +the field in and through which his noble faculties were developed, was +the vast and varied one of history. We doubt if any one ever read his +works without forming a high conception of the character of their +author, a conception which will be found fully realized in the excellent +Life given us by George Ticknor. If no one is qualified to write the +Life of a man, save one who has familiarly lived with him, who but Mr. +Ticknor could have given us such a biography of Prescott? This +advantage, together with the similarity of literary tastes, the common +nationality in which their spheres of labor lay, their long friendship, +their congeniality of spirit, with the mental qualifications brought by +Mr. Ticknor to his task of love, renders his production one of +inestimable value. It is indeed full of sweet, grave charm, and +thoroughly reliable. In these pages we see how it was that no man ever +found fault with or spoke disparagingly of Prescott--we find the reason +for it in the perfect balance of his conscientious and kindly character. +He was in the strictest sense of the words 'lord of himself,' mulcting +himself with fines and punishments for what he regarded as his +derelictions in his labors, compelling himself to pursue the tasks which +he had determined to achieve. There is no more interesting record than +that of his constant struggles to conquer the effects of his growing +blindness, none more inspiriting than the results of his efforts. He +loved and lived among his books; his last request was that his body +should be placed among them ere it was given to the grave. + +This delightful biography, which has been received so warmly, both at +home and abroad, was originally published in an elegant quarto volume, +illustrated in the highest style of art, and an edition was printed +which was considered quite too large for the present times. But the +edition was soon exhausted, and Messrs. Ticknor & Fields have now given +us the Life in a 12mo volume, thus placing it within the means of all +readers. We rejoice at this, because Prescott belongs to us all: while +his life is dear to the scholar and lover of his kind, it furnishes some +of the most important lessons to Young America. Such a man is a true +national glory. We close our imperfect notice with a short extract from +Mr. Ticknor's preface: 'But if, after all, this memoir should fail to +set the author of the 'Ferdinand and Isabella' before those who had not +the happiness to know him personally, as a man whose life for more than +forty years was one of almost constant struggle--of an almost constant +sacrifice to duty, of the present to the future--it will have failed to +teach its true lesson, or to present my friend to others as he stood +before the very few who knew him as he was. + + "Virtue could see to do what virtue would + By her own radiant light, though sun and moon + Were in the flat sea sunk." + + + SERMONS, Preached at Trinity Chapel, Brighton, by the late + Rev. FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON, M. A., the Incumbent. Fifth + Series. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. For sale by D. Appleton & + Co., New York. + +The sermons of Mr. Robertson are very popular in England. They are +remarkable for clearness and excellence of style, and earnestness of +purpose. Many noble lessons are to be drawn from them, even by those who +differ with the author on sundry points of doctrine. We wish, however, +for the credit of theological exactness, that he had been somewhat more +careful in stating the views of his adversaries. Referring to the use of +indulgences, he says: 'The Romish Church permits crime for certain +considerations.' The Roman Catholic doctrine as actually held is, that +an indulgence is a remission of a portion of the earthly or purgatorial +punishment due to any sin, after it has been duly repented of, +confessed, abandoned, and restitution made so far as possible. It can +consequently never mean a pardon for sins to come, as is often +ignorantly supposed, and is apparently a reminiscence of the ancient +practice of canonical penances inflicted on penitents. + +Just now, when the entire scientific world is being convulsed by the +attempted substitution of some inflexible law for a personal God with a +living _will_, it is not strange that some phase of the same idea should +creep into even the purest theology, and that in Mr. Robertson's theory +of prayer we should find traces of the rigidity characterizing 'ultra +predestinarian' as well as 'development' schemes of creation. + +We cannot better conclude than by quoting the following passage from the +sermon on 'Selfishness,' a home thrust to nearly all of us: 'It is +possible to have sublime feelings, great passions, even great sympathies +with the race, and yet not to love man. To feel mightily is one thing, +to live truly and charitably another. Sin may be felt at the core, and +yet not be cast out. Brethren, beware. See how a man may be going on +uttering fine words, orthodox truths, and yet be rotten at the heart.' + + + WOMAN AND HER ERA. By ELIZA W. FARNHAM. 'Every + book of knowledge known to Oosana or Vreehaspatec, is by nature + implanted in the understandings of women.'--_Vishnu Sarma._ In 2 + volumes. New York: A. J. Davis & Co., 274 Canal street. + +This is a book which will excite violent criticism, and call forth +opposition, as all new statements invariably do. Its author says it is +twenty-two years since its truths took possession of her mind, and that +they are as firmly grounded among the eternal truths for her, as are the +ribbed strata of the rocks, or the hollows of the everlasting sea. Mrs. +Farnham attempts to prove the superiority of woman in all, save the +external world of the senses, the material structure of the work-a-day +world. She regards the knowledge and acceptance of this fact as of vital +importance to the order of society, the happiness of man, the +development of his being, and the improvement of the human race. Her +argument is not the sentimental one so often profaned in our midst. She +traces the proofs of her assertions to the most profound sources, +presents them in her acute analyses and philosophical arguments, and +draws practical applications from them. She is sincere in her +convictions, and able in her arguments; she sets up a high standard of +womanly excellence for _noblesse oblige_, and teaches faith in God and +humanity. + +We have not space to follow Mrs. Farnham's argument: it would require a +review rather than a cursory notice. She shows that there is an +intuitive recognition of the superiority of woman in the universal +sentiments of humanity, that man's love when pure assumes the superior +qualities of the woman loved, that he looks to her to aid him in his +aspirations for a better life than he has lived before; but woman never +proposes to herself a reform from any gross or vicious habit by reason +of her first lesson in love. The reverse is more apt to be the case. + +In man the love of power is an infernal passion, because its root is +self love; in woman, it is a divine impulse, connected only with the +love of noble uses. Our author is no advocate for women's rights, there +being two orders of human capacities, masculine and feminine. Man is +master of the outer world: woman cannot cope with him there; her sphere +is freer, deeper, higher, and of more importance to the future destinies +of the race. This book will be sharply criticized by the clergy, pure +and good men, but always hard on woman, although she keeps the lamp of +faith trimmed and burning in the churches, believing her always a mere +subordinate of man, and utter submission to him her chief virtue. The +lady-killers and men of pleasure will scorn it, for it exposes many of +their claims and vices, which they labor to hide with glittering veils +of dazzling sophisms. Will our women read it? We think not. Mrs. Farnham +treats of difficult subjects, with the freedom and innocence of an +anatomist; but will our fair and shrinking students enter the dissecting +room, even to learn some of the secrets of life? + +We differ from Mrs. Farnham in many important particulars. We think she +has made some errors fatal to the well-being of her system. But she has +entered upon a new path, one in which there are indeed _lions upon the +way_; she has advanced freely and boldly through its dangers; her aims +have been generous and sincere; she has given the mature a suggestive +and thoughtful book; and shall we not greet her when she returns with +her hard-won trophies from the mystical land of earth's fair Psyches? + + 'O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee + To temper man; we had been brutes without you! + Angels are painted fair to look like you; + There's in you all that we believe of heaven!' + + + THE HOLY AND PROFANE STATES. By THOMAS FULLER. + With some Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, + Brown & Co. For sale by D. Appleton & Co. + +A book from quaint old Fuller will always find its audience ready to +receive it. It is only by contrasting his works with those of his +contemporaries that we can do him full justice. He was an eminent +historian and divine of the Church of England, in the stormy times of +Charles I. and the Commonwealth. He made his first appearance as an +author in 1631, in a poem entitled 'David's hainous Sin, heartie +Repentance, and heavie Punishment.' He was much beloved in his day, +following faithfully as chaplain the fortunes of the royal army. As a +writer, every subject is alike to him; if dull, he enlivens it; +agreeable, he improves it; deep, he enlightens it; and if tough, +grapples bravely with it. As he was unwilling to go all lengths with +either party, he was abused by both. The storms which convulsed the +Government, had only the effect of throwing him upon his own resources, +and he thus produced the various works which won the admiration of his +contemporaries, and through which he still receives the gratitude of +posterity, keeping his memory still green in our souls. The table of +contents in the present volume is very varied, the chapters are short, +and treat of familiar and home-like topics. + + + FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS: Being an Attempt to Trace to their + Sources Passages and Phrases in Common Use, chiefly from English + Authors. By JOHN BARTLETT. Fourth edition. Boston: Little, + Brown & Co. 1864. + +The compiler of this book says the favor shown to former editions has +encouraged him to go on with the work and make it still more worthy. The +object has been to present the general reader with such quotations as he +would readily recognize as old friends. The index of authors is a wide +one, placing before us at a glance many of the names treasured in our +memories; the index of subjects, alphabetically arranged, covers seventy +closely printed pages, and is exceedingly well ordered. We consider such +books as of great value, planting pregnant thoughts in the soul, and +affording rich illustrations. We cheerfully commend Mr. Bartlett's +excerpts. They are well chosen, and the binding, paper, and print of the +book are admirable. + + + ARNOLD AND ANDRE. An Historical Drama. By GEORGE + CALVERT, author of 'Scenes and Thoughts in Europe,' and 'The + Gentleman.' Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864. + +Mr. Calvert says, 'an historical drama being the incarnation--through +the most compact and brilliant literary form--of the spirit of a +national epoch, the dramatic author, in adopting historic personages and +events, is bound to subordinate himself with conscientious faithfulness +to the actuality he attempts to reproduce. His task is, by help of +imaginative power, to give to important conjunctures, and to the +individuals that rule them, a more vivid embodiment than can be given on +the literal page of history--not to transform, but to elevate and +animate an enacted reality, and, by injecting it with poetic rays, to +make it throw out a light whereby its features shall be more visible.' A +just theory and well stated; and in 'Arnold and Andre,' our author has +subordinated himself with conscientious faithfulness to historic truth, +and is always correct and dignified; but the imaginative gift of deep +insight is wanting, and the fire of genius kindles not the heart of the +stately record to reveal its hidden power and pathos. + + + HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE. By CHARLES + MERIVALE, B.D., late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. + From the fourth London edition. With a copious Analytical Index. + Vol. III. New York: D. Appleton & Co., Broadway. + +Merivale's third volume commences with the proceedings upon the death of +Caesar, and concludes with the Imperial Administration, thus containing +one of the most interesting and important periods of Roman history. +Antonius, Octavius, Cicero, Cleopatra, Octavia, Caesarion, Herod, +Antipater, Mariamne, Agrippa, etc., make part of the brilliant array +rekindled before us. We have no doubt that the readers of ancient +history will gladly avail themselves of the opportunity to possess +themselves of Merivale's work. + + + SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF JEREMY TAYLOR. With some + Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. + 1864. + +Bishop Heber says, when speaking of the three great English divines, +'Hooker is the object of our reverence. Barrow of our admiration, and +Jeremy Taylor of our love.' Taylor was a man of devout and glowing soul, +of imaginative genius, so that, whatever may have been the prejudices of +his times, the restrictions of his creed, his thoughts are still fresh +and captivating, his quaint pages full of interest. He loved his Master, +and his love glows through much of his writing. + +He was an accomplished scholar, and in spite of his contests with +'Papists,' a kindhearted man. His biographer says: 'To sum up all in a +few words, this great prelate had the good humor of a gentleman, the +eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a +schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a +chancellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and the +piety of a saint, devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for a +university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi.' + +These selections are judiciously made, and will commend themselves to +all readers of taste. It is a good sign to see Jeremy Taylor and old +Fuller reappearing among us. + + + POEMS. By FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN. Boston: + Ticknor & Fields. 1864. + +Mr. Tuckerman has given us a volume of philosophically thought, tenderly +and purely felt, and musically rhythmed poems. No roughness disfigures, +no sensualism blights, no straining for effect chills, no meretricious +ornament destroys them. The ideas are grave and tender, the diction +scholarly, and if the fire and passion of genius flame not through them, +they seem to have been the natural growth of a heart + + 'Hearing oftentimes + The still sad music of humanity.' + + + THOUGHTS ON PERSONAL RELIGION. Being a Treatise on the + Christian Life, in its two Chief Elements, Devotion and Practice. + By EDWARD MEYRICK GOULBURN, D. D., Prebendary of St. + Paul's, Chaplain to the Bishop of Oxford, and one of her Majesty's + Chaplains in Ordinary. First American, from the fifth London + edition. With a Prefatory Note, by George H. Houghton, D.D., Rector + of the Church of the Transfiguration, in the City of New York. New + York: D. Appleton & Co., 443 and 445 Broadway. 1864. + +This is, in the main, an excellent work on practical religion. From its +fervent spirit and sound common sense, it came very near being such a +one as we could have recommended for the perusal and attentive study of +the great body of Christians in our country. Unfortunately, the author, +by sundry flings at other Christian communities, and by the use of +nicknames, as Quaker, Romanist, Dissenter, etc., in speaking of them, +has restricted its usefulness chiefly to the members of his own +communion, the Protestant Episcopal Church. To such, it will doubtless +prove highly satisfactory and beneficial. A very few omissions would +have procured for it the wide range of acceptance and power of working +good to which its intrinsic excellence would then have entitled it. When +will our religious writers learn that the great battle now is not among +the various sections of the Christian camp, but with an outside enemy, +indefatigable, learned, plausible, and every day gaining ground? Who can +tell but that a careful examination of, and more accurate acquaintance +with the principles and practice of divisions serving under the same +great Captain, might dissipate many a prejudice, and reconcile many a +difficulty? One of the first requisites is, that all learn _to know_ and +_to speak_ the truth about one another. + + + THE SPIRIT OF THE FAIR. 1864. 'None but the brave deserve + the Fair.' Editorial Committee: Augustus R. Macdonough, _Chairman_; + Mrs. Charles E. Butler, Mrs. Edward Cooper, C. Astor Bristed, + Chester P. Dewey, James W. Gerard, jr., William J. Hoppin, Henry + Sedgwick, Frederick Sheldon, Charles K. Tuckerman. New York: John + F. Trow, Publisher, 50 Greene street. + +In recommending to our readers this neatly bound volume of the daily +product of the great 'Metropolitan Fair,' we cannot do better than +extract the little introductory notice of the publisher, who says: 'By +the request of many patrons of the 'Spirit of the Fair,' the publisher +purchased the stereotype plates and copyrights of the paper, for the +purpose of supplying bound copies for permanent preservation. The +talented ladies and gentlemen who conducted the 'Spirit of the Fair,' +during its brief and brilliant career, have, by their well-directed +efforts, made a volume worthy of preservation, both from its high +literary excellence, and from the recollections with which it is +associated. Its pages are illuminated with the writings of the most +distinguished authors. Every article in the paper first saw the light of +print in the 'Spirit of the Fair.' Poets, Historians, Statesmen, +Novelists, and Essayists furnished contributions prepared expressly for +its columns; and their efforts in behalf of the noble charity which the +paper represented, should alone entitle the volume to be cherished as a +most valued memento and heirloom. + +'The publisher, therefore, presents this volume to the public, in the +hope that it will not only gratify the reader of the present, but that +it will assist to preserve the 'Spirit of the Fair' for the reader of +the future.' + + + THE LITTLE REBEL. Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1864. For + sale by Hurd & Houghton, New York. + +A very interesting book for the little ones. It presents vivid pictures +of New England life, and is fragrant and dewy with fresh breezes from +the maple bush, the hillside, and the pasture lands. The style is +excellent, and the matter as sprightly and entertaining as it is simply +natural and morally improving. + + + THE POET, AND OTHER POEMS. By ACHSA W. SPRAGUE. + Boston: William White & Co., 158 Washington street. For sale by A. + J. Davis, New York. + +'Miss Sprague was chiefly known to the world as a trance lecturer under +what claimed to be spirit influence. Although speaking in the interest +of a faith generally unpopular, and involved in no slight degree in +crudities, extravagance, and quackery, she was herself neither fool nor +fanatic. She was a true child of nature, direct and simple in her +manners, and impatient of the artificiality and formal etiquette of +fashionable society.' These poems are characterized by great case of +style, flowing rhythm, earnestness in the cause of philanthropy, and +frequently contain high moral lessons. But it is somewhat strange that +the poems of trance writers and speakers, so often marked by exquisite, +varied, and delicate chimes of ringing rhythm, of brilliant words, of +sparkling poetic dust blown from the pages of great writers, and +drifting through the world, should so seldom give us those great granite +blocks of originality, which must constitute the enduring base for the +new era therein announced. Is there nothing new in the world beyond the +grave which they deem open to their vision? We ask this in no spirit of +censure or cavil, for we have no prejudice against the school of +spiritualistic literature, save where it militates against the faith in +our Redeemer. + +INDEX TO VOLUME VI. + + + + A Castle in the Air. By E. Foxton, 272 + + AEnone; a Tale of Slave Life in Rome, 10, 149, 254, 408, 519, 610 + + A Glance at Prussian Politics. By Charles + M. Mead, 261, 383 + + A Great Social Problem. By G. U., 441 + + American Civilization. By Lieut. Egbert + Phelps, U. S. A., 102 + + American Slavery and Finances. By Hon. + Robert J. Walker, 22 + + American Women. By Mrs. Virginia Sherwood, 416 + + An Army: Its Organization and Movements. + By Lieut.-Col. C. W. Tolles, A. Q. M., 1, 223, 330, 601 + + A Sigh. By Virginia Vaughan, 355 + + A Wren's Song, 434 + + Aphorisms, 78, 83, 134, 222, 260, 414, 444, 609, 663 + + Asleep, 270 + + Averill's Raid. By Alfred B. Street, 326 + + Battle of the Wilderness. By E. A. Warriner, 207 + + Buckle, Draper: Church and Estate. By Edward + B. Freeland, 55 + + Buried Alive. A Dirge. By Martha Walker + Cook, 189 + + Causes of the Minnesota Massacre. By January + Searle, 174 + + Church Music. By Lucia D. Pychowska, 112 + + Colors and their Meaning. By Mrs. M. E. G. + Gage, 199 + + Coming Up at Shiloh, 399 + + 'Cor Unum, Via Una.' God Bless our Native + Land! 716 + + Creation. By Charles E. Townsend, 531 + + Death in Life. By Edwin R. Johnson, 516 + + Docs the Moon Revolve on its Axis? By + Charles E. Townsend, 380 + + Editor's Table, 238, 478, 711 + + Excuse. By Kate Putnam, 415 + + Flower Odors, 469 + + Fly Leaves from the Life of a Soldier, 289, 534 + + Genius, By Richard Bowen, 705 + + James Fenimore Cooper on Secession and + State Rights. By Charles K. Tuckerman, 79 + + Letter of Hon. R. J. Walker, in favor of the + Reelection of Abraham Lincoln, Sept. + 30, 1864, London, 686 + + Life on a Blockader. By the Author of 'The + Last Cruise of the Monitor, 46 + + Literary Notices, 116, 232, 359, 475, 706 + + Locomotion. By David M. Balfour, 472 + + Lois Pearl Berkeley. By Margaret Vane + Hastings 552 + + Longing. From Schlegel, 454 + + Look-Out Mountain. By Alfred B. Street, 65 + + Lunar Characteristics. By Charles E. Townsend, 381 + + Miracles. By Rev. Asa L. Colton, 685 + + Negro Troops. By Henry Everett Russell, 191 + + Observations of the Sun. By Charles E. + Townsend, 328 + + One Night. By Julius Wilcox, 67 + + On Hearing a 'Trio.' By Mary Freeman + Goldbeck, 650 + + Our Domestic Affairs. By George Wurts, 241 + + Our Great America. By January Searle, 445 + + Our Martyrs. By Kate Putnam, 147 + + Phenomena of Haze, Fogs, and Clouds. By + Charles E. Townsend, 533 + + Proverbs. By E. B. C., 371 + + Recognition. By Virginia Vaughan, 88 + + Self-Sacrifice. Analect from Richter, 632 + + Shanghai: Its Streets, Shops, and People. + By Henry B. Auchincloss, 633 + + Sketches of American Life and Scenery. By + Lucia D. Pychowska, 544, 664 + + Some Uses of a Civil War. By Hugh Miller + Thompson, 361 + + Sound Reflections. By E. B. C., 314 + + Streck-Verse. By E. B. C., 298 + + Tardy Truths. By H. K. Kalussowski, 209 + + The Antiquity of Man. A Philosophic Debate. + By William Henderson, 356 + + The Constitutional Amendment. By Henry + Everett Russell, 135 + + The Cross. By E. Foxton, 34 + + The Danish Sailor. By G. T. M., 99 + + The Devil's Canon in California. By Henry + B. Auchincloss, 280 + + The English Press. By Nicholas Rowe, + London, 36, 135 + + The Esthetics of the Root of All Evil. By + George P. Upton, 677 + + The First Christian Emperor. By Rev. Dr. + Philip Schaff, 161 + + The First Fanatic. By Fanny L. Glenfield, 543 + + The Ideal Man for Universal Imitation; or, + The Sinless Perfection of Jesus. By + Rev. Dr. Philip Schaff, 651 + + The Lesson of the Hour. By Edward Sprague + Rand, 455 + + The North Carolina Conscript. By Isabella + McFarland, 379 + + The Progress of Liberty in the United States. + By Rev. A. D. Mayo, 481 + + The Resurrection Flower. By M. E. Dodge, 84 + + The Sacrifice. By S. J. Bates, 296 + + The Scientific Universal Language; Its + Character and Relation to other Languages. + By Edward B. Freeland, 456, 572 + + The Seven-Hundredth Birthday of a German + Capital. By Prof. Andrew Ten + Brook, 89 + + The Two Platforms. By Henry Everett + Russell, 587 + + The Undivine Comedy. A Polish Drama. + By Count Sigismund Krasinski. Translated + by Martha Walker Cook, 298, 372, 497, 623 + + The Vision. By George B. Peck, 620 + + Tidings of Victory. By C. L. P., 676 + + Violations of Literary Property. The Federalist--Life + and Character of John Jay. + By Henry T. Tuckerman, 336 + + Who Knows? By Edwin R. Johnson, 358 + + Word-Stilts. By William Wirt Sikes, 439 + + 'Ye Know Not What Ye Ask.' By Fanny + L. Glenfield, 398 + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, +July, 1864, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 20481.txt or 20481.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/8/20481/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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