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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/2418-h.zip b/2418-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9301877 --- /dev/null +++ b/2418-h.zip diff --git a/2418-h/2418-h.htm b/2418-h/2418-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..10f06a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/2418-h/2418-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6292 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Oldport Days, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.transnote {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Oldport Days, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +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: Oldport Days + +Author: Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +Posting Date: March 23, 2009 [EBook #2418] +Release Date: December, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLDPORT DAYS *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="transnote"> +Transcriber's Note: I have closed contractions in the text, e.g., "did +n't" becoming "didn't" for example; I have also added the missing +period after "caress" in line 11 of page 61, and have changed "ever" to +"over" in line 16 of page 121. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +OLDPORT DAYS. +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> + BOSTON:<BR> + LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.<BR> + NEW YORK:<BR> + CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM.<BR> + 1888.<BR> +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,<BR> + BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.,<BR> + in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.<BR> +<BR><BR> + University Press:<BR> + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.<BR> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS. +</H2> + +<H4> + <A HREF="#oldport">OLDPORT IN WINTER</A><BR> + <A HREF="#wharves">OLDPORT WHARVES</A><BR> + <A HREF="#window">THE HAUNTED WINDOW</A><BR> + <A HREF="#fire">A DRIFT-WOOD FIRE</A><BR> + <A HREF="#creation">AN ARTIST'S CREATION</A><BR> + <A HREF="#wherry">IN A WHERRY</A><BR> + <A HREF="#delia">MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS</A><BR> + <A HREF="#sunshine">SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH</A><BR> + <A HREF="#shadow">A SHADOW</A><BR> + <A HREF="#footpaths">FOOTPATHS</A><BR> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="oldport"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +OLDPORT DAYS. +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +OLDPORT IN WINTER. +</H2> + +<P> +Our August life rushes by, in Oldport, as if we were all shot from the +mouth of a cannon, and were endeavoring to exchange visiting-cards on +the way. But in September, when the great hotels are closed, and the +bronze dogs that guarded the portals of the Ocean House are collected +sadly in the music pavilion, nose to nose; when the last four-in-hand +has departed, and a man may drive a solitary horse on the avenue +without a pang,—then we know that "the season" is over. Winter is yet +several months away,—months of the most delicious autumn weather that +the American climate holds. But to the human bird of passage all that +is not summer is winter; and those who seek Oldport most eagerly for +two months are often those who regard it as uninhabitable for the other +ten. +</P> + +<P> +The Persian poet Saadi says that in a certain region of Armenia, where +he travelled, people never died the natural death. But once a year they +met on a certain plain, and occupied themselves with recreation, in the +midst of which individuals of every rank and age would suddenly stop, +make a reverence to the west, and, setting out at full speed toward +that part of the desert, be seen no more. It is quite in this fashion +that guests disappear from Oldport when the season ends. They also are +apt to go toward the west, but by steamboat. It is pathetic, on +occasion of each annual bereavement, to observe the wonted looks and +language of despair among those who linger behind; and it needs some +fortitude to think of spending the winter near such a Wharf of Sighs. +</P> + +<P> +But we console ourselves. Each season brings its own attractions. In +summer one may relish what is new in Oldport, as the liveries, the +incomes, the manners. There is often a delicious freshness about these +exhibitions; it is a pleasure to see some opulent citizen in his first +kid gloves. His new-born splendor stands in such brilliant relief +against the confirmed respectability of the "Old Stone Mill," the only +thing on the Atlantic shore which has had time to forget its birthday! +But in winter the Old Mill gives the tone to the society around it; we +then bethink ourselves of the crown upon our Trinity Church steeple, +and resolve that the courtesies of a bygone age shall yet linger here. +Is there any other place in America where gentlemen still take off +their hats to one another on the public promenade? The hat is here what +it still is in Southern Europe,—the lineal successor of the sword as +the mark of a gentleman. It is noticed that, in going from Oldport to +New York or Boston, one is liable to be betrayed by an over-flourish of +the hat, as is an Arkansas man by a display of the bowie-knife. +</P> + +<P> +Winter also imparts to these spacious estates a dignity that is +sometimes wanting in summer. I like to stroll over them during this +epoch of desertion, just as once, when I happened to hold the keys of a +church, it seemed pleasant to sit, on a week-day, among its empty pews. +The silent walls appeared to hold the pure essence of the prayers of a +generation, while the routine and the ennui had vanished all away. One +may here do the same with fashion as there with devotion, extracting +its finer flavors, if such there be, unalloyed by vulgarity or sin. In +the winter I can fancy these fine houses tenanted by a true nobility; +all the sons are brave, and all the daughters virtuous. These balconies +have heard the sighs of passion without selfishness; those cedarn +alleys have admitted only vows that were never broken. If the occupant +of the house be unknown, even by name, so much the better. And from +homes more familiar, what lovely childish faces seem still to gaze from +the doorways, what graceful Absences (to borrow a certain poet's +phrase) are haunting those windows! +</P> + +<P> +There is a sense of winter quiet that makes a stranger soon feel at +home in Oldport, while the prospective stir of next summer precludes +all feeling of stagnation. Commonly, in quiet places, one suffers from +the knowledge that everybody would prefer to be unquiet; but nobody has +any such longing here. Doubtless there are aged persons who deplore the +good old times when the Oldport mail-bags were larger than those +arriving at New York. But if it were so now, what memories would there +be to talk about? If you wish for "Syrian peace, immortal leisure,"—a +place where no grown person ever walks rapidly along the street, and +where few care enough for rain to open an umbrella or walk +faster,—come here. +</P> + +<P> +My abode is on a broad, sunny street, with a few great elms overhead, +and with large old houses and grass-banks opposite. There is so little +snow that the outlook in the depth of winter is often merely that of a +paler and leafless summer, and a soft, springlike sky almost always +spreads above. Past the window streams an endless sunny panorama (for +the house fronts the chief thoroughfare between country and +town),—relics of summer equipages in faded grandeur; great, fragrant +hay-carts; vast moving mounds of golden straw; loads of crimson onions; +heaps of pale green cabbages; piles of gray tree-prunings, looking as +if the patrician trees were sending their superfluous wealth of +branches to enrich the impoverished orchards of the Poor Farm; wagons +of sea-weed just from the beach, with bright, moist hues, and dripping +with sea-water and sea-memories, each weed an argosy, bearing its own +wild histories. At this season, the very houses move, and roll slowly +by, looking round for more lucrative quarters next season. Never have I +seen real estate made so transportable as in Oldport. The purchaser, +after finishing and furnishing to his fancy, puts his name on the door, +and on the fence a large white placard inscribed "For sale". Then his +household arrangements are complete, and he can sit down to enjoy +himself. +</P> + +<P> +By a side-glance from our window, one may look down an ancient street, +which in some early epoch of the world's freshness received the name of +Spring Street. A certain lively lady, addicted to daring Scriptural +interpretations, thinks that there is some mistake in the current +versions of Genesis, and that it was Spring Street which was created in +the beginning, and the heavens and earth at some subsequent period. +There are houses in Spring Street, and there is a confectioner's shop; +but it is not often that a sound comes across its rugged pavements, +save perchance (in summer) the drone of an ancient hand-organ, such as +might have been devised by Adam to console his Eve when Paradise was +lost. Yet of late the desecrating hammer and the ear-piercing saw have +entered that haunt of ancient peace. May it be long ere any such +invasion reaches those strange little wharves in the lower town, full +of small, black, gambrel-roofed houses, with projecting eaves that +might almost serve for piazzas. It is possible for an unpainted wooden +building to assume, in this climate, a more time-worn aspect than that +of any stone; and on these wharves everything is so old, and yet so +stunted, you might fancy that the houses had been sent down there to +play during their childhood, and that nobody had ever remembered to +fetch them back. +</P> + +<P> +The ancient aspect of things around us, joined with the softening +influences of the Gulf Stream, imparts an air of chronic languor to the +special types of society which here prevail in winter,—as, for +instance, people of leisure, trades-people living on their summer's +gains, and, finally, fishermen. Those who pursue this last laborious +calling are always lazy to the eye, for they are on shore only in lazy +moments. They work by night or at early dawn, and by day they perhaps +lie about on the rocks, or sit upon one heel beside a fish-house door. +I knew a missionary who resigned his post at the Isles of Shoals +because it was impossible to keep the Sunday worshippers from lying at +full length on the seats. Our boatmen have the same habit, and there is +a certain dreaminess about them, in whatever posture. Indeed, they +remind one quite closely of the German boatman in Uhland, who carried +his reveries so far as to accept three fees from one passenger. +</P> + +<P> +But the truth is, that in Oldport we all incline to the attitude of +repose. Now and then a man comes here, from farther east, with the New +England fever in his blood, and with a pestilent desire to do +something. You hear of him, presently, proposing that the Town Hall +should be repainted. Opposition would require too much effort, and the +thing is done. But the Gulf Stream soon takes its revenge on the +intruder, and gradually repaints him also, with its own soft and mellow +tints. In a few years he would no more bestir himself to fight for a +change than to fight against it. +</P> + +<P> +It makes us smile a little, therefore, to observe that universal +delusion among the summer visitors, that we spend all winter in active +preparations for next season. Not so; we all devote it solely to +meditations on the season past. I observe that nobody in Oldport ever +believes in any coming summer. Perhaps the tide is turned, we think, +and people will go somewhere else. You do not find us altering our +houses in December, or building out new piazzas even in March. We wait +till the people have actually come to occupy them. The preparation for +visitors is made after the visitors have arrived. This may not be the +way in which things are done in what are called "smart business +places." But it is our way in Oldport. +</P> + +<P> +It is another delusion to suppose that we are bored by this long epoch +of inactivity. Not at all; we enjoy it. If you enter a shop in winter, +you will find everybody rejoiced to see you—as a friend; but if it +turns out that you have come as a customer, people will look a little +disappointed. It is rather inconsiderate of you to make such demands +out of season. Winter is not exactly the time for that sort of thing. +It seems rather to violate the conditions of the truce. Could you not +postpone the affair till next July? Every country has its customs; I +observe that in some places, New York for instance, the shopkeepers +seem rather to enjoy a "field-day" when the sun and the customers are +out. In Oldport, on the contrary, men's spirits droop at such times, +and they go through their business sadly. They force themselves to it +during the summer, perhaps,—for one must make some sacrifices,—but in +winter it is inappropriate as strawberries and cream. +</P> + +<P> +The same spirit of repose pervades the streets. Nobody ever looks in a +hurry, or as if an hour's delay would affect the thing in hand. The +nearest approach to a mob is when some stranger, thinking himself late +for the train (as if the thing were possible), is tempted to run a few +steps along the sidewalk. On such an occasion I have seen doors open, +and heads thrust out. But ordinarily even the physicians drive slowly, +as if they wished to disguise their profession, or to soothe the nerves +of some patient who may be gazing from a window. +</P> + +<P> +Yet they are not to be censured, since Death, their antagonist, here +drives slowly too. The number of the aged among us is surprising, and +explains some phenomena otherwise strange. You will notice, for +instance, that there are no posts before the houses in Oldport to which +horses may be tied. Fashionable visitors might infer that every horse +is supposed to be attended by a groom. Yet the tradition is, that there +were once as many posts here as elsewhere, but that they were removed +to get rid of the multitude of old men who leaned all day against them. +It obstructed the passing. And these aged citizens, while permitted to +linger at their posts, were gossiping about men still older, in earthly +or heavenly habitations, and the sensation of longevity went on +accumulating indefinitely in their talk. Their very disputes had a +flavor of antiquity, and involved the reputation of female relatives to +the third or fourth generation. An old fisherman testified in our +Police Court, the other day, in narrating the progress of a street +quarrel; "Then I called him 'Polly Garter,'—that's his grandmother; +and he called me 'Susy Reynolds,'—that's my aunt that's dead and gone." +</P> + +<P> +In towns like this, from which the young men mostly migrate, the work +of life devolves upon the venerable and the very young. When I first +came to Oldport, it appeared to me that every institution was conducted +by a boy and his grandfather. This seemed the case, for instance, with +the bank that consented to assume the slender responsibility of my +deposits. It was further to be observed, that, if the elder official +was absent for a day, the boy carried on the proceedings unaided; while +if the boy also wished to amuse himself elsewhere, a worthy neighbor +from across the way came in to fill the places of both. Seeing this, I +retained my small hold upon the concern with fresh tenacity; for who +knew but some day, when the directors also had gone on a picnic, the +senior depositor might take his turn at the helm? It may savor of +self-confidence, but it has always seemed to me, that, with one day's +control of a bank, even in these degenerate times, something might be +done which would quite astonish the stockholders. +</P> + +<P> +Longer acquaintance has, however, revealed the fact, that these Oldport +institutions stand out as models of strict discipline beside their +suburban compeers. A friend of mine declares that he went lately into a +country bank, nearby, and found no one on duty. Being of opinion that +there should always be someone behind the counter of a bank, he went +there himself. Wishing to be informed as to the resources of his +establishment, he explored desks and vaults, found a good deal of paper +of different kinds, and some rich veins of copper, but no cashier. +Going to the door again in some anxiety, he encountered a casual +school-boy, who kindly told him that he did not know where the +financial officer might be at the precise moment of inquiry, but that +half an hour before he was on the wharf, fishing. +</P> + +<P> +Death comes to the aged at last, however, even in Oldport. We have +lately lost, for instance, that patient old postman, serenest among our +human antiquities, whose deliberate tread might have imparted a tone of +repose to Broadway, could any imagination have transferred him thither. +Through him the correspondence of other days came softened of all +immediate solicitude. Ere it reached you, friends had died or +recovered, debtors had repented, creditors grown kind, or your children +had paid your debts. Perils had passed, hopes were chastened, and the +most eager expectant took calmly the missive from that tranquillizing +hand. Meeting his friends and clients with a step so slow that it did +not even stop rapidly, he, like Tennyson's Mariana, slowly +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "From his bosom drew<BR> + Old letters."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +But a summons came at last, not to be postponed even by him. One day he +delivered his mail as usual, with no undue precipitation; on the next, +the blameless soul was himself taken and forwarded on some celestial +route. +</P> + +<P> +Irreparable would have seemed his loss, did there not still linger +among us certain types of human antiquity that might seem to disprove +the fabled youth of America. One veteran I daily meet, of uncertain +age, perhaps, but with at least that air of brevet antiquity which long +years of unruffled indolence can give. He looks as if he had spent at +least half a lifetime on the sunny slope of some beach, and the other +half in leaning upon his elbows at the window of some sailor +boarding-house. He is hale and broad, with a head sunk between two +strong shoulders; his beard falls like snow upon his breast, longer and +longer each year, while his slumberous thoughts seem to move slowly +enough to watch it as it grows. I always fancy that these meditations +have drifted far astern of the times, but are following after, in +patient hopelessness, as a dog swims behind a boat. What knows he of +the President's Message? He has just overtaken some remarkable catch of +mackerel in the year thirty-eight. His hands lie buried fathom-deep in +his pockets, as if part of his brain lay there to be rummaged; and he +sucks at his old pipe as if his head, like other venerable hulks, must +be smoked out at intervals. His walk is that of a sloth, one foot +dragging heavily behind the other. I meet him as I go to the +post-office, and on returning, twenty minutes later, I pass him again, +a little farther advanced. All the children accost him, and I have seen +him stop—no great retardation indeed—to fondle in his arms a puppy or +a kitten. Yet he is liable to excitement, in his way; for once, in some +high debate, wherein he assisted as listener, when one old man on a +wharf was doubting the assertion of another old man about a certain +equinoctial gale, I saw my friend draw his right hand slowly and +painfully from his pocket, and let it fall by his side. It was really +one of the most emphatic gesticulations I ever saw, and tended +obviously to quell the rising discord. It was as if the herald at a +tournament had dropped his truncheon, and the fray must end. +</P> + +<P> +Women's faces are apt to take from old age a finer touch than those of +men, and poverty does not interfere with this, where there is no actual +exposure to the elements. From the windows of these old houses there +often look forth delicate, faded countenances, to which belongs an air +of unmistakable refinement. Nowhere in America, I fancy, does one see +such counterparts of the reduced gentlewoman of England,—as described, +for instance, in "Cranford,"—quiet maiden ladies of seventy, with +perhaps a tradition of beauty and bellehood, and still wearing always a +bit of blue ribbon on their once golden curls,—this headdress being +still carefully arranged, each day, by some handmaiden of sixty, so +long a house-mate as to seem a sister, though some faint suggestion of +wages and subordination may be still preserved. Among these ladies, as +in "Cranford," there is a dignified reticence in respect to +money-matters, and a courteous blindness to the small economies +practised by each other. It is not held good breeding, when they meet +in a shop of a morning, for one to seem to notice what another buys. +</P> + +<P> +These ancient ladies have coats of arms upon their walls, hereditary +damasks among their scanty wardrobes, store of domestic traditions in +their brains, and a whole Court Guide of high-sounding names at their +fingers' ends. They can tell you of the supposed sister of an English +queen, who married an American officer and dwelt in Oldport; of the +Scotch Lady Janet, who eloped with her tutor, and here lived in +poverty, paying her washerwoman with costly lace from her trunks; of +the Oldport dame who escaped from France at the opening of the +Revolution, was captured by pirates on her voyage to America, then +retaken by a privateer and carried into Boston, where she took refuge +in John Hancock's house. They can describe to you the Malbone Gardens, +and, as the night wanes and the embers fade, can give the tale of the +Phantom of Rough Point. Gliding farther and farther into the past, they +revert to the brilliant historic period of Oldport, the successive +English and French occupations during our Revolution, and show you +gallant inscriptions in honor of their grandmothers, written on the +window-panes by the diamond rings of the foreign officers. +</P> + +<P> +The newer strata of Oldport society are formed chiefly by importation, +and have the one advantage of a variety of origin which puts +provincialism out of the question. The mild winter climate and the +supposed cheapness of living draw scattered families from the various +Atlantic cities; and, coming from such different sources, these +visitors leave some exclusiveness behind. The boast of heraldry, the +pomp of power, are doubtless good things to have in one's house, but +are cumbrous to travel with. Meeting here on central ground, partial +aristocracies tend to neutralize each other. A Boston family comes, +bristling with genealogies, and making the most of its little all of +two centuries. Another arrives from Philadelphia, equally fortified in +local heraldries unknown in Boston. +</P> + +<P> +A third from New York brings a briefer pedigree, but more gilded. Their +claims are incompatible; but there is no common standard, and so +neither can have precedence. Since no human memory can retain the +great-grandmothers of three cities, we are practically as well off as +if we had no great-grandmothers at all. +</P> + +<P> +But in Oldport, as elsewhere, the spice of conversation is apt to be in +inverse ratio to family tree and income-tax, and one can hear better +repartees among the boat-builders' shops on Long Wharf than among those +who have made the grand tour. All the world over, one is occasionally +reminded of the French officer's verdict on the garrison town where he +was quartered, that the good society was no better than the good +society anywhere else, but the bad society was capital. I like, for +instance, to watch the shoals of fishermen that throng our streets in +the early spring, inappropriate as porpoises on land, or as Scott's +pirates in peaceful Kirkwall,—unwieldy, bearded creatures in oil-skin +suits,—men who have never before seen a basket-wagon or a liveried +groom and, whose first comments on the daintinesses of fashion are far +more racy than anything which fashion can say for itself. +</P> + +<P> +The life of our own fishermen and pilots remains active, in its way, +all winter; and coasting vessels come and go in the open harbor every +day. The only schooner that is not so employed is, to my eye, more +attractive than any of them; it is our sole winter guest, this year, of +all the graceful flotilla of yachts that helped to make our summer +moonlights so charming. While Europe seems in such ecstasy over the +ocean yacht-race, there lies at anchor, stripped and dismantled, a +vessel which was excluded from the match, it is said, simply because +neither of the three competitors would have had a chance against her. I +like to look across the harbor at the graceful proportions of this +uncrowned victor in the race she never ran; and to my eye her laurels +are the most attractive. She seems a fit emblem of the genius that +waits, while talent merely wins. "Let me know," said that fine, but +unappreciated thinker, Brownlee Brown,—"let me know what chances a man +has passed in contempt; not what he has made, but what he has refused +to make, reserving himself for higher ends." +</P> + +<P> +All out-door work in winter has a cheerful look, from the triumph of +caloric it implies; but I know none in which man seems to revert more +to the lower modes of being than in searching for seaclams. One may +sometimes observe a dozen men employed in this way, on one of our +beaches, while the cold wind blows keenly off shore, and the spray +drifts back like snow over the green and sluggish surge. The men pace +in and out with the wave, going steadily to and fro like a pendulum, +ankle-deep in the chilly brine, their steps quickened by hope or +slackening with despair. Where the maidens and children sport and shout +in summer, there in winter these heavy figures succeed. To them the +lovely crest of the emerald billow is but a chariot for clams, and is +valueless if it comes in empty. Really, the position of the clam is the +more dignified, since he moves only with the wave, and the immortal +being in fish-boots wades for him. +</P> + +<P> +The harbor and the beach are thus occupied in winter; but one may walk +for many a mile along the cliffs, and see nothing human but a few +gardeners, spreading green and white sea-weed as manure upon the lawns. +The mercury rarely drops to zero here, and there is little snow; but a +new-fallen drift has just the same virgin beauty as farther inland, and +when one suddenly comes in view of the sea beyond it, there is a +sensation of summer softness. The water is not then deep blue, but +pale, with opaline reflections. Vessels in the far horizon have the +same delicate tint, as if woven of the same liquid material. A single +wave lifts itself languidly above a reef,—a white-breasted loon floats +near the shore,—the sea breaks in long, indolent curves,—the distant +islands swim in a vague mirage. Along the cliffs hang great organ-pipes +of ice, distilling showers of drops that glitter in the noonday sun, +while the barer rocks send up a perpetual steam, giving to the eye a +sense of warmth, and suggesting the comforts of fire. Beneath, the low +tide reveals long stretches of golden-brown sea-weed, caressed by the +lapping wave. +</P> + +<P> +High winds bring a different scene. Sometimes I fancy that in winter, +with less visible life upon the surface of the water, and less of +unseen animal life below it, there is yet more that seems like vital +force in the individual particles of waves. Each separate drop appears +more charged with desperate and determined life. The lines of surf run +into each other more brokenly, and with less steady roll. The low sun, +too, lends a weird and jagged shadow to gallop in before the crest of +each advancing wave, and sometimes there is a second crest on the +shoulders of the first, as if there were more than could be contained +in a single curve. Greens and purples are called forth to replace the +prevailing blue. Far out at sea, great separate mounds of water rear +themselves, as if to overlook the tossing plain. Sometimes these move +onward and subside with their green hue still unbroken, and again they +curve into detached hillocks of foam, white, multitudinous, side by +side, not ridged, but moving on like a mob of white horses, neck +overarching neck, breast crowded against breast. +</P> + +<P> +Across those tumultuous waves I like to watch, after sunset, the +revolving light; there is something about it so delicate and human. It +seems to bud or bubble out of the low, dark horizon; a moment, and it +is not, and then another moment, and it is. With one throb the +tremulous light is born; with another throb it has reached its full +size, and looks at you, coy and defiant; and almost in that instant it +is utterly gone. You cannot conceive yourself to be watching something +which merely turns on an axis; but it seems suddenly to expand, a +flower of light, or to close, as if soft petals of darkness clasped it +in. During its moments of absence, the eye cannot quite keep the memory +of its precise position, and it often appears a hair-breadth to the +right or left of the expected spot. This enhances the elfish and +fantastic look, and so the pretty game goes on, with flickering +surprises, every night and all night long. But the illusion of the +seasons is just as coquettish; and when next summer comes to us, with +its blossoms and its joys, it will dawn as softly out of the darkness +and as softly give place to winter once more. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="wharves"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +OLDPORT WHARVES. +</H2> + +<P> +Everyone who comes to a wharf feels an impulse to follow it down, and +look from the end. There is a fascination about it. It is the point of +contact between land and sea. A bridge evades the water, and unites +land with land, as if there were no obstacle. But a wharf seeks the +water, and grasps it with a solid hand. It is the sign of a lasting +friendship; once extended, there it remains; the water embraces it, +takes it into its tumultuous bosom at high tide, leaves it in peace at +ebb, rushes back to it eagerly again, plays with it in sunshine, surges +round it in storm, almost crushing the massive thing. But the pledge +once given is never withdrawn. Buildings may rise and fall, but a solid +wharf is almost indestructible. Even if it seems destroyed, its +materials are all there. This shore might be swept away, these piers be +submerged or dashed asunder, still every brick and stone would remain. +Half the wharves of Oldport were ruined in the great storm of 1815. Yet +not one of them has stirred from the place where it lay; its +foundations have only spread more widely and firmly; they are a part of +the very pavement of the harbor, submarine mountain ranges, on one of +which yonder schooner now lies aground. Thus the wild ocean only +punished itself, and has been embarrassed for half a century, like many +another mad profligate, by the wrecks of what it ruined. +</P> + +<P> +Yet the surges are wont to deal very tenderly with these wharves. In +summer the sea decks them with floating weeds, and studs them with an +armor of shells. In the winter it surrounds them with a smoother mail +of ice, and the detached piles stand white and gleaming, like the +out-door palace of a Russian queen. How softly and eagerly this coming +tide swirls round them! All day the fishes haunt their shadows; all +night the phosphorescent water glimmers by them, and washes with long, +refluent waves along their sides, decking their blackness with a spray +of stars. +</P> + +<P> +Water seems the natural outlet and discharge for every landscape, and +when we have followed down this artificial promontory, a wharf, and +have seen the waves on three sides of us, we have taken the first step +toward circumnavigating the globe. This is our last terra firma. One +step farther, and there is no possible foothold but a deck, which tilts +and totters beneath our feet. A wharf, therefore, is properly neutral +ground for all. It is a silent hospitality, understood by all nations. +It is in some sort a thing of universal ownership. Having once built +it, you must grant its use to everyone; it is no trespass to land upon +any man's wharf. +</P> + +<P> +The sea, like other beautiful savage creatures, derives most of its +charm from its reserves of untamed power. When a wild animal is subdued +to abjectness, all its interest is gone. The ocean is never thus +humiliated. So slight an advance of its waves would overwhelm us, if +only the restraining power once should fail, and the water keep on +rising! Even here, in these safe haunts of commerce, we deal with the +same salt tide which I myself have seen ascend above these piers, and +which within half a century drowned a whole family in their home upon +our Long Wharf. +</P> + +<P> +It is still the same ungoverned ocean which, twice in every twenty-four +hours, reasserts its right of way, and stops only where it will. At +Monckton, on the Bay of Fundy, the wharves are built forty feet high, +and at ebb-tide you may look down on the schooners lying aground upon +the mud below. In six hours they will be floating at your side. But the +motions of the tide are as resistless whether its rise be six feet or +forty; as in the lazy stretching of the caged lion's paw you can see +all the terrors of his spring. +</P> + +<P> +Our principal wharf, the oldest in the town, has lately been doubled in +size, and quite transformed in shape, by an importation of broad acres +from the country. It is now what is called "made land,"—a manufacture +which has grown so easy that I daily expect to see some enterprising +contractor set up endwise a bar of railroad iron, and construct a new +planet at its summit, which shall presently go spinning off into space +and be called an asteroid. There are some people whom would it be +pleasant to colonize in that way; but meanwhile the unchanged southern +side of the pier seems pleasanter, with its boat-builders' shops, all +facing sunward,—a cheerful haunt upon a winter's day. On the early +maps this wharf appears as "Queen-Hithe," a name more graceful than its +present cognomen. "Hithe" or "Hythe" signifies a small harbor, and is +the final syllable of many English names, as of Lambeth. Hythe is also +one of those Cinque-Ports of which the Duke of Wellington was warden. +This wharf was probably still familiarly called Queen-Hithe in 1781, +when Washington and Rochambeau walked its length bareheaded between the +ranks of French soldiers; and it doubtless bore that name when Dean +Berkeley arrived in 1729, and the Rev. Mr. Honyman and all his flock +closed hastily their prayer-books, and hastened to the landing to +receive their guest. But it had lost this name ere the days, yet +remembered by aged men, when the Long Wharf became a market. Beeves +were then driven thither and tethered, while each hungry applicant +marked with a piece of chalk upon the creature's side the desired cut; +when a sufficient portion had been thus secured, the sentence of death +was issued. Fancy the chalk a live coal, or the beast endowed with +human consciousness, and no Indian, or Inquisitorial tortures could +have been more fearful. +</P> + +<P> +It is like visiting the houses at Pompeii, to enter the strange little +black warehouses which cover some of our smaller wharves. They are so +old and so small it seems as if some race of pygmies must have built +them. Though they are two or three stories high, with steep +gambrel-roofs, and heavily timbered, their rooms are yet so low that a +man six feet high can hardly stand upright beneath the great +cross-beams. There is a row of these structures, for instance, +described on a map of 1762 as "the old buildings on Lopez' Wharf," and +to these another century has probably brought very little change. Lopez +was a Portuguese Jew, who came to this place, with several hundred +others, after the Lisbon earthquake of 1755. He is said to have owned +eighty square-rigged vessels in this port, from which not one such +craft now sails. His little counting-room is in the second storey of +the building; its wall-timbers are of oak, and are still sound; the few +remaining planks are grained to resemble rosewood and mahogany; the +fragments of wall-paper are of English make. In the cross-beam, just +above your head, are the pigeon-holesonce devoted to different vessels, +whose names are still recorded above them on faded paper,—"Ship +Cleopatra," "Brig Juno," and the like. Many of these vessels measured +less than two hundred tons, and it seems as if their owner had built +his ships to match the size of his counting-room. +</P> + +<P> +A sterner tradition clings around an old building on a remoter wharf; +for men have but lately died who had seen slaves pass within its doors +for confinement. The wharf in those days appertained to a distillery, +an establishment then constantly connected with the slave-trade, rum +being sent to Africa, and human beings brought back. Occasionally a +cargo was landed here, instead of being sent to the West Indies or to +South Carolina, and this building was fitted up for their temporary +quarters. It is but some twenty-five feet square, and must be less than +thirty feet in height, yet it is divided into three stories, of which +the lowest was used for other purposes, and the two upper were reserved +for slaves. There are still to be seen the barred partitions and +latticed door, making half the second floor into a sort of cage, while +the agent's room appears to have occupied the other half. A similar +latticed door—just such as I have seen in Southern slave-pens—secures +the foot of the upper stairway. The whole small attic constitutes a +single room, with a couple of windows, and two additional +breathing-holes, two feet square, opening on the yard. It makes one +sick to think of the poor creatures who may once have gripped those +bars with their hands, or have glared with eager eyes between them; and +it makes me recall with delight the day when I once wrenched away the +stocks and chains from the floor of a pen like this, on the St. Mary's +River in Florida. It is almost forty years since this distillery became +a mill, and sixty since the slave-trade was abolished. The date "1803" +is scrawled upon the door of the cage,—the very year when the port of +Charleston was reopened for slaves, just before the traffic ceased. A +few years more, and such horrors will seem as remote a memory in South +Carolina, thank God! as in Rhode Island. +</P> + +<P> +Other wharves are occupied by mast-yards, places that seem like +play-rooms for grown men, crammed fuller than any old garret with those +odds and ends in which the youthful soul delights. There are planks and +spars and timber, broken rudders, rusty anchors, coils of rope, bales +of sail-cloth, heaps of blocks, piles of chain-cable, great iron +tar-kettles like antique helmets, strange machines for steaming planks, +inexplicable little chimneys, engines that seem like dwarf-locomotives, +windlasses that apparently turn nothing, and incipient canals that lead +nowhere. For in these yards there seems no particular difference +between land and water; the tide comes and goes anywhere, and nobody +minds it; boats are drawn up among burdocks and ambrosia, and the +platform on which you stand suddenly proves to be something afloat. +Vessels are hauled upon the ways, each side of the wharf, their poor +ribs pitiably unclothed, ready for a cumbrous mantua-making of oak and +iron. On one side, within a floating boom, lies a fleet of masts and +unhewn logs, tethered uneasily, like a herd of captive sea-monsters, +rocking in the ripples. A vast shed, that has doubtless looked ready to +fall for these dozen years spreads over, half the entrance to the +wharf, and is filled with spars, knee-timber, and planks of fragrant +wood; its uprights are festooned with all manner of great hawsers and +smaller ropes, and its dim loft is piled with empty casks and idle +sails. The sun always seems to shine in a ship-yard; there are apt to +be more loungers than laborers, and this gives a pleasant air of +repose; the neighboring water softens all harsher sounds, the foot +treads upon an elastic carpet of embedded chips, and pleasant resinous +odors are in the air. +</P> + +<P> +Then there are wharves quite abandoned by commerce, and given over to +small tenements, filled with families so abundant that they might +dispel the fears of those alarmists who suspect that children are +ceasing to be born. Shrill voices resound there—American or Irish, as +the case may be—through the summer noontides; and the domestic +clothes-line forever stretches across the paths where imported slaves +once trod, or rich merchandise lay piled. Some of these abodes are +nestled in the corners of houses once stately, with large windows and +carven doorways. Others occupy separate buildings, almost always of +black, unpainted wood, sometimes with the long, sloping roof of +Massachusetts, oftener with the quaint "gambrel" of Rhode Island. From +the busiest point of our main street, I can show you a single cottage, +with low gables, projecting eaves, and sheltering sweetbrier, that +seems as if it must have strayed hither, a century or two ago, out of +some English lane. +</P> + +<P> +Some of the more secluded wharves appear wholly deserted by men and +women, and are tenanted alone by rats and boys,—two amphibious races; +either can swim anywhere, or scramble and penetrate everywhere. The +boys launch some abandoned skiff, and, with an oar for a sail and +another for a rudder, pass from wharf to wharf; nor would it be +surprising if the bright-eyed rats were to take similar passage on a +shingle. Yet, after all, the human juveniles are the more sagacious +brood. It is strange that people should go to Europe, and seek the +society of potentates less imposing, when home can endow them with the +occasional privilege of a nod from an American boy. In these +sequestered haunts, I frequently meet some urchin three feet high who +carries with him an air of consummate worldly experience that +completely overpowers me, and I seem to shrink to the dimensions of Tom +Thumb. Before his calm and terrible glance all disguises fail. You may +put on a bold and careless air, and affect to overlook him as you pass; +but it is like assuming to ignore the existence of the Pope of Rome, or +of the London Times. He knows better. Grown men are never very +formidable; they are shy and shamefaced themselves, usually +preoccupied, and not very observing. If they see a man loitering about, +without visible aim, they class him as a mild imbecile, and let him go; +but boys are nature's detectives, and one does not so easily evade +their scrutinizing eyes. I know full well that, while I study their +ways, they are noting mine through a clearer lens, and are probably +taking my measure far better than I take theirs. One instinctively +shrinks from making a sketch or memorandum while they are by; and if +caught in the act, one fondly hopes to pass for some harmless +speculator in real estate, whose pencillings may be only a matter of +habit, like those casual sums in compound interest which are usually to +be found scrawled on the margins of the daily papers in Boston +reading-rooms. +</P> + +<P> +Our wharves are almost all connected by intricate by-ways among the +buildings; and one almost wishes to be a pirate or a smuggler, for the +pleasure of eluding the officers of justice through such seductive +paths. It is, perhaps, to counteract this perilous fascination that our +new police-office has been established on a wharf. You will see its +brick tower rising not ungracefully, as you enter the inner harbor; it +looks the better for being almost windowless, though beauty was not the +aim of the omission. A curious stranger is said to have asked one of +our city fathers the reason of this peculiarity. "No use in windows," +said the experienced official sadly; "the boys would only break 'em." +It seems very unjust to assert that there is no subordination in our +American society; the citizens show deference to the police, and the +police to the boys. +</P> + +<P> +The ancient aspect of these wharves extends itself sometimes to the +vessels which lie moored beside them. At yonder pier, for instance, has +lain for thirteen years a decaying bark, which was suspected of being +engaged in the slave-trade. She was run ashore and abandoned on Block +Island, in the winter of 1854, and was afterwards brought in here. Her +purchaser was offered eight thousand dollars for his bargain, but +refused it; and here the vessel has remained, paying annual wharf dues +and charges, till she is worthless. She lies chained at the wharf, and +the tide rises and falls within her, thus furnishing a convenient +bathing-house for the children, who also find a perpetual gymnasium in +the broken shrouds that dangle from her masts. Turner, when he painted +his "slave-ship," could have asked no better model. There is no name +upon the stern, and it exhibits merely a carved eagle, with the wings +clipped and the head knocked off. Only the lower masts remain, which +are of a dismal black, as are the tops and mizzen cross-trees. Within +the bulwarks, on each side, stand rows of black blocks, to which the +shrouds were once attached; these blocks are called by sailors +"dead-eyes," and each stands in weird mockery, with its three ominous +holes, like so many human skulls before some palace in Dahomey. Other +blocks like these swing more ominously yet at the ends of the shrouds, +that still hang suspended, waving and creaking and jostling in the +wind. Each year the ropes decay, and soon the repulsive pendants will +be gone. Not so with the iron belaying-pins, a few of which still stand +around the mast, so rusted into the iron fife-rail that even the +persevering industry of the children cannot wrench them out. It seems +as if some guilty stain must cling to their sides, and hold them in. By +one of those fitnesses which fortune often adjusts, but which seem +incredible in art, the wharf is now used on one side for the storage of +slate, and the hulk is approached through an avenue of gravestones. I +never find myself in that neighborhood but my steps instinctively seek +that condemned vessel, whether by day, when she makes a dark foreground +for the white yachts and the summer waves, or by night, when the storm +breaks over her desolate deck. +</P> + +<P> +If we follow northward from "Queen-Hithe" along the shore, we pass into +a region where the ancient wharves of commerce, ruined in 1815, have +never been rebuilt; and only slender pathways for pleasure voyagers now +stretch above the submerged foundations. Once the court end of the +town, then its commercial centre, it is now divided between the +tenements of fishermen and the summer homes of city households. Still +the great old houses remain, with mahogany stairways, carved +wainscoting, and painted tiles; the sea has encroached upon their +gardens, and only boats like mine approach where English dukes and +French courtiers once landed. At the head of yonder private wharf, in +that spacious and still cheerful abode, dwelt the beautiful Robinson +sisterhood,—the three Quaker belles of Revolutionary days, the memory +of whose loves might lend romance to this neighborhood forever. One of +these maidens was asked in marriage by a captain in the English army, +and was banished by her family to the Narragansett shore, under a flag +of truce, to avoid him; her lover was afterward killed by a +cannon-ball, in his tent, and she died unwedded. Another was sought by +two aspirants, who came in the same ship to woo her, the one from +Philadelphia, the other from New York. She refused them both, and they +sailed southward together; but, the wind proving adverse, they +returned, and one lingered till he won her hand. Still another lover +was forced into a vessel by his friends, to tear him from the enchanted +neighborhood; while sailing past the house, he suddenly threw himself +into the water,—it must have been about where the end of the wharf now +rests,—that he might be rescued, and carried, a passive Leander, into +yonder door. The house was first the head-quarters of the English +commander, then of the French; and the sentinels of De Noailles once +trod where now croquet-balls form the heaviest ordnance. Peaceful and +untitled guests now throng in summer where St. Vincents and +Northumberlands once rustled and glittered; and there is nothing to +recall those brilliant days except the painted tiles on the chimney, +where there is a choice society of coquettes and beaux, priests and +conjurers, beggars and dancers, and every wig and hoop dates back to +the days of Queen Anne. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes when I stand upon this pier by night, and look across the +calm black water, so still, perhaps, that the starry reflections seem +to drop through it in prolonged javelins of light instead of resting on +the surface, and the opposite lighthouse spreads its cloth of gold +across the bay,—I can imagine that I discern the French and English +vessels just weighing anchor; I see De Lauzun and De Noailles +embarking, and catch the last sheen upon their lace, the last glitter +of their swords. It vanishes, and I see only the lighthouse gleam, and +the dark masts of a sunken ship across the neighboring island. Those +motionless spars have, after all, a nearer interest, and, as I saw them +sink, I will tell their tale. +</P> + +<P> +That vessel came in here one day last August, a stately, full-sailed +bark; nor was it known, till she had anchored, that she was a mass of +imprisoned fire below. She was the "Trajan," from Rockland, bound to +New Orleans with a cargo of lime, which took fire in a gale of wind, +being wet with sea-water as the vessel rolled. The captain and crew +retreated to the deck, and made the hatches fast, leaving even their +clothing and provisions below. They remained on deck, after reaching +this harbor, till the planks grew too hot beneath their feet, and the +water came boiling from the pumps. Then the vessel was towed into a +depth of five fathoms, to be scuttled and sunk. I watched her go down. +Early impressions from "Peter Parley" had portrayed the sinking of a +vessel as a frightful plunge, endangering all around, like a maelstrom. +The actual process was merely a subsidence so calm and gentle that a +child might have stood upon the deck till it sank beneath him, and then +might have floated away. Instead of a convulsion, it was something +stately and very pathetic to the imagination. The bark remained almost +level, the bows a little higher than the stern; and her breath appeared +to be surrendered in a series of pulsations, as if every gasp of the +lungs admitted more of the suffocating wave. After each long heave, she +went visibly a few inches deeper, and then paused. The face of the +benign Emperor, her namesake, was on the stern; first sank the carven +beard, then the rather mutilated nose, then the white and staring eyes, +that gazed blankly over the engulfing waves. The figure-head was Trajan +again, at full length, with the costume of an Indian hunter, and the +face of a Roman sage; this image lingered longer, and then vanished, +like Victor Hugo's Gilliatt, by cruel gradations. Meanwhile the gilded +name upon the taffrail had slowly disappeared also; but even when the +ripples began to meet across her deck, still her descent was calm. As +the water gained, the hidden fire was extinguished, and the smoke, at +first densely rising, grew rapidly less. Yet when it had stopped +altogether, and all but the top of the cabin had disappeared, there +came a new ebullition of steam, like a hot spring, throwing itself +several feet in air, and then ceasing. +</P> + +<P> +As the vessel went down, several beams and planks came springing +endwise up the hatchway, like liberated men. But nothing had a stranger +look to me than some great black casks which had been left on deck. +These, as the water floated them, seemed to stir and wake, and to +become gifted with life, and then got into motion and wallowed heavily +about, like hippopotami or any unwieldy and bewildered beasts. At last +the most enterprising of them slid somehow to the bulwark, and, after +several clumsy efforts, shouldered itself over; then others bounced +out, eagerly following, as sheep leap a wall, and then they all went +bobbing away, over the dancing waves. For the wind blew fresh +meanwhile, and there were some twenty sail-boats lying-to with reefed +sails by the wreck, like so many sea-birds; and when the loose stuff +began to be washed from the deck, they all took wing at once, to save +whatever could be picked up,—since at such times, as at a +conflagration on land, every little thing seems to assume a value,—and +at last one young fellow steered boldly up to the sinking ship itself, +sprang upon the vanishing taffrail for one instant, as if resolved to +be the last on board, and then pushed off again. I never saw anything +seem so extinguished out of the universe as that great vessel, which +had towered so colossal above my little boat; it was impossible to +imagine that she was all there yet, beneath the foaming and indifferent +waves. No effort has yet been made to raise her; and a dead eagle seems +to have more in common with the living bird than has now this submerged +and decaying hulk with the white and winged creature that came sailing +into our harbor on that summer day. +</P> + +<P> +It shows what conversational resources are always at hand in a seaport +town, that the boatman with whom I first happened to visit this burning +vessel had been thrice at sea on ships similarly destroyed, and could +give all the particulars of their fate. I know no class of uneducated +men whose talk is so apt to be worth hearing as that of sailors. Even +apart from their personal adventures and their glimpses at foreign +lands, they have made observations of nature which are far more careful +and minute than those of farmers, because the very lives of sailors are +always at risk. Their voyages have also made them sociable and fond of +talk, while the pursuits of most men tend to make them silent; and +their constant changes of scene, though not touching them very deeply, +have really given a certain enlargement to their minds. A quiet +demeanor in a seaport town proves nothing; the most inconspicuous man +may have the most thrilling career to look back upon. With what a +superb familiarity do these men treat this habitable globe! Cape Horn +and the Cape of Good Hope are in their phrase but the West Cape and the +East Cape, merely two familiar portals of their wonted home. With what +undisguised contempt they speak of the enthusiasm displayed over the +ocean yacht-race! That any man should boast of crossing the Atlantic in +a schooner of two hundred tons, in presence of those who have more than +once reached the Indian Ocean in a fishing-smack of fifty, and have +beaten in the homeward race the ships in whose company they sailed! It +is not many years since there was here a fishing-skipper, whose surname +was "Daredevil," and who sailed from this port to all parts of the +world, on sealing voyages, in a sloop so small that she was popularly +said to go under water when she got outside the lights, and never to +reappear until she reached her port. +</P> + +<P> +And not only those who sail on long voyages, but even our local pilots +and fishermen, still lead an adventurous and untamed life, less +softened than any other by the appliances of modern days. In their +undecked boats they hover day and night along these stormy coasts, and +at any hour the beating of the long-roll upon the beach may call their +full manhood into action. Cowardice is sifted and crushed out from +among them by a pressure so constant; and they are withal truthful and +steady in their ways, with few vices and many virtues. They are born +poor, and remain poor, for their work is hard, with more blanks than +prizes; but their life is a life for a man, and though it makes them +prematurely old, yet their old age comes peacefully and well. In almost +all pursuits the advance of years brings something forlorn. It is not +merely that the body decays, but that men grow isolated and are pushed +aside; there is no common interest between age and youth. The old +farmer leads a lonely existence, and ceases to meet his compeers except +on Sunday; nobody consults him; his experience has been monotonous, and +his age is apt to grow unsocial. The old mechanic finds his tools and +his methods superseded by those of younger men. But the superannuated +fisherman graduates into an oracle; the longer he lives, the greater +the dignity of his experience; he remembers the great storm, the great +tide, the great catch, the great shipwreck; and on all emergencies his +counsel has weight. He still busies himself about the boats too, and +still sails on sunny days to show the youngsters the best +fishing-ground. When too infirm for even this, he can at least sun +himself beside the landing, and, dreaming over inexhaustible memories, +watch the bark of his own life go down. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="window"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE HAUNTED WINDOW. +</H2> + +<P> +It was always a mystery to me where Severance got precisely his +combination of qualities. His father was simply what is called a +handsome man, with stately figure and curly black hair, not without a +certain dignity of manner, but with a face so shallow that it did not +even seem to ripple, and with a voice so prosy that, when he spoke of +the sky, you wished there were no such thing. His mother was a fair, +little, pallid creature,—wash-blond, as they say of lace,—patient, +meek, and always fatigued and fatiguing. But Severance, as I first knew +him, was the soul of activity. He had dark eyes, that had a great deal +of light in them, without corresponding depth; his hair was dark, +straight, and very soft; his mouth expressed sweetness, without much +strength; he talked well; and though he was apt to have a wandering +look, as if his thoughts were laying a submarine cable to another +continent, yet the young girls were always glad to have the semblance +of conversation with him in this. To me he was in the last degree +lovable. He had just enough of that subtile quality called genius, +perhaps, to spoil first his companions, and then himself. His words had +weight with you, though you might know yourself wiser; and if you went +to give him the most reasonable advice, you were suddenly seized with a +slight paralysis of the tongue. Thus it was, at any rate, with me. We +were cemented therefore by the firmest ties,—a nominal seniority on my +part, and a substantial supremacy on his. +</P> + +<P> +We lodged one summer at an old house in that odd suburb of Oldport +called "The Point." It is a sort of Artists' Quarter of the town, +frequented by a class of summer visitors more addicted to sailing and +sketching than to driving and bowing,—persons who do not object to +simple fare, and can live, as one of them said, on potatoes and Point. +Here Severance and I made our summer home, basking in the delicious +sunshine of the lovely bay. The bare outlines around Oldport sometimes +dismay the stranger, but soon fascinate. Nowhere does one feel bareness +so little, because there is no sharpness of perspective; everything +shimmers in the moist atmosphere; the islands are all glamour and +mirage; and the undulating hills of the horizon seem each like the +soft, arched back of some pet animal, and you long to caress them with +your hand. At last your thoughts begin to swim also, and pass into +vague fancies, which you also love to caress. Severance and I were +constantly afloat, body and mind. He was a perfect sailor, and had that +dreaminess in his nature which matches with nothing but the ripple of +the waves. Still, I could not hide from myself that he was a changed +man since that voyage in search of health from which he had just +returned. His mother talked in her humdrum way about heart disease; and +his father, taking up the strain, bored us about organic lesions, till +we almost wished he had a lesion himself. Severance ridiculed all this; +but he grew more and more moody, and his eyes seemed to be laying more +submarine cables than ever. +</P> + +<P> +When we were not on the water, we both liked to mouse about the queer +streets and quaint old houses of that region, and to chat with the +fishermen and their grandmothers. There was one house, however, which +was very attractive to me,—perhaps because nobody lived in it, and +which, for that or some other reason, he never would approach. It was a +great square building of rough gray stone, looking like those sombre +houses which everyone remembers in Montreal, but which are rare in "the +States." It had been built many years before by some millionnaire from +New Orleans, and was left unfinished, nobody knew why, till the garden +was a wilderness of bloom, and the windows of ivy. Oldport is the only +place in New England where either ivy or traditions will grow; there +were, to be sure, no legends about this house that I could hear of, for +the ghosts in those parts were feeble-minded and retrospective by +reason of age, and perhaps scorned a mansion where nobody had ever +lived; but the ivy clustered round the projecting windows as densely as +if it had the sins of a dozen generations to hide. +</P> + +<P> +The house stood just above what were commonly called (from their slaty +color) the Blue Rocks; it seemed the topmost pebble left by some tide +that had receded,—which perhaps it was. Nurses and children thronged +daily to these rocks, during the visitors' season, and the fishermen +found there a favorite lounging-place; but nobody scaled the wall of +the house save myself, and I went there very often. The gate was +sometimes opened by Paul, the silent Bavarian gardener, who was master +of the keys; and there were also certain great cats that were always +sunning themselves on the steps, and seemed to have grown old and gray +in waiting for mice that had never come. They looked as if they knew +the past and the future. If the owl is the bird of Minerva, the cat +should be her beast; they have the same sleepy air of unfathomable +wisdom. There was such a quiet and potent spell about the place that +one could almost fancy these constant animals to be the transformed +bodies of human visitors who had stayed too long. Who knew what tales +might be told by these tall, slender birches, clustering so closely by +the sombre walls?—birches which were but whispering shrubs when the +first gray stones were laid, and which now reared above the eaves their +white stems and dark boughs, still whispering and waiting till a few +more years should show them, across the roof, the topmost blossoms of +other birches on the other side. +</P> + +<P> +Before the great western doorway spread the outer harbor, whither the +coasting vessels came to drop anchor at any approach of storm. These +silent visitors, which arrived at dusk and went at dawn, and from which +no boat landed, seemed fitting guests before the portals of the silent +house. I was never tired of watching them from the piazza; but +Severance always stayed outside the wall. It was a whim of his, he +said; and once only I got out of him something about the resemblance of +the house to some Portuguese mansion,—at Madeira, perhaps, or at Rio +Janeiro, but he did not say,—with which he had no pleasant +associations. Yet he afterwards seemed to wish to deny this remark, or +to confuse my impressions of it, which naturally fixed it the better in +my mind. +</P> + +<P> +I remember well the morning when he was at last coaxed into approaching +the house. It was late in September, and a day of perfect calm. As we +looked from the broad piazza, there was a glassy smoothness over all +the bay, and the hills were coated with a film, or rather a mere +varnish, inconceivably thin, of haze more delicate than any other +climate in America can show. Over the water there were white gulls +flying, lazy and low; schools of young mackerel displayed their white +sides above the surface; and it seemed as if even a butterfly might be +seen for miles over that calm expanse. The bay was covered with +mackerel-boats, and one man sculled indolently across the foreground a +scarlet skiff. It was so still that every white sail-boat rested where +its sail was first spread; and though the tide was at half-ebb, the +anchored boats swung idly different ways from their moorings. Yet there +was a continuous ripple in the broad sail of some almost motionless +schooner, and there was a constant melodious plash along the shore. +From the mouth of the bay came up slowly the premonitory line of bluer +water, and we knew that a breeze was near. +</P> + +<P> +Severance seemed to rise in spirits as we approached the house, and I +noticed no sign of shrinking, except an occasional lowering of the +voice. Seeing this, I ventured to joke him a little on his previous +reluctance, and he replied in the same strain. I seated myself at the +corner, and began sketching old Fort Louis, while he strolled along the +piazza, looking in at the large, vacant windows. As he approached the +farther end, I suddenly heard him give a little cry of amazement or +dismay, and, looking up, saw him leaning against the wall, with pale +face and hands clenched. +</P> + +<P> +A minute sometimes appears a long while; and though I sprang to him +instantly, yet I remember that it seemed as if, during that instant, +the whole face of things had changed. The breeze had come, the bay was +rippled, the sail-boats careened to the wind, fishes and birds were +gone, and a dark gray cloud had come between us and the sun. Such +sudden changes are not, however, uncommon after an interval of calm; +and my only conscious thought at the time was of wonder at the strange +aspect of my companion. +</P> + +<P> +"What was that?" asked Severance in a bewildered tone. I looked about +me, equally puzzled. "Not there," he said. "In the window." +</P> + +<P> +I looked in at the window, saw nothing, and said so. There was the +great empty drawing-room, across which one could see the opposite +window, and through this the eastern piazza and the garden beyond. +Nothing more was there. With some persuasion, Severance was induced to +look in. He admitted that he saw nothing peculiar; but he refused all +explanation, and we went home. +</P> + +<P> +"Never let me go to that house again," he said abruptly, as we entered +our own door. +</P> + +<P> +I pointed out to him the absurdity of thus yielding to a nervous +delusion, which was already in part conquered, and he finally promised +to revisit the scene with me the next day. To clear all possible +misgivings from my own mind, I got the key of the house from Paul, +explored it thoroughly, and was satisfied that no improper visitor had +recently entered the drawing-room at least, as the windows were +strongly bolted on the inside, and a large cobweb, heavy with dust, +hung across the doorway. This did no great credit to Paul's +stewardship, but was, perhaps, a slight relief to me. Nor could I see a +trace of anything uncanny outside the house. When Severance went with +me, next day, the coast was equally clear, and I was glad to have cured +him so easily. +</P> + +<P> +Unfortunately, it did not last. A few days after, there was a brilliant +sunset, after a storm, with gorgeous yellow light slanting everywhere, +and the sun looking at us between bars of dark purple cloud, edged with +gold where they touched the pale blue sky; all this fading at last into +a great whirl of gray to the northward, with a cold purple ground. At +the height of the show, I climbed the wall to my favorite piazza, and +was surprised to find Severance already there. +</P> + +<P> +He sat facing the sunset, but with his head sunk between his hands. At +my approach, he looked up, and rose to his feet. "Do not deceive me any +more," he said, almost savagely, and pointed to the window. +</P> + +<P> +I looked in, and must confess that, for a moment, I too was startled. +There was a perceptible moment of time during which it seemed as if no +possible philosophy could explain what appeared in sight. Not that any +object showed itself within the great drawing-room, but I distinctly +saw—across the apartment, and through the opposite window—the dark +figure of a man about my own size, who leaned against the long window, +and gazed intently on me. Above him spread the yellow sunset light, +around him the birch-boughs hung and the ivy-tendrils swayed, while +behind him there appeared a glimmering water-surface, across which +slowly drifted the tall masts of a schooner. It looked strangely like a +view I had seen of some foreign harbor,—Amalfi, perhaps,—with a +vine-clad balcony and a single human figure in the foreground. So real +and startling was the sight that at first it was not easy to resolve +the whole scene into its component parts. Yet it was simply such a +confused mixture of real and reflected images as one often sees from +the window of a railway carriage, where the mirrored interior seems to +glide beside the train, with the natural landscape for a background. In +this case, also, the frame and foliage of the picture were real, and +all else was reflected; the sunlit bay behind us was reproduced as in a +camera, and the dark figure was but the full-length image of myself. +</P> + +<P> +It was easy to explain all this to Severance, but he shook his head. +"So cool a philosopher as yourself," he said, "should remember that +this image is not always visible. At our last visit, we looked for it +in vain. When we first saw it, it appeared and disappeared within ten +minutes. On your mechanical theory it should be other-wise." +</P> + +<P> +This staggered me for a moment. Then the ready solution occurred, that +the reflection depended on the strength and direction of the light; and +I proved to him that, in our case, it had appeared and disappeared with +the sunshine. He was silenced, but evidently not convinced; yet time +and common-sense, it seemed, would take care of that. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after all this, I was called out of town for a week or two. If +Severance would go with me, it would doubtless complete the cure, I +thought; but this he obstinately declined. After my departure, my +sister wrote, he seemed absolutely to haunt the empty house by the Blue +Rocks. He undoubtedly went here to sketch, she thought. The house was +in charge of a real-estate agent,—a retired landscape-painter, whose +pictures did not sell so profitably as their originals; and her theory +was, that this agent hoped to make our friend buy the place, and so +allured him there under pretence of sketching. Moreover, she surmised, +he was studying some effect of shadow, because, unlike most men, he +appeared in decent spirits only on cloudy days. It is always so easy to +fit a man out with a set of ready-made motives! But I drew my own +conclusions, and was not surprised to hear, soon after, that Severance +was seriously ill. +</P> + +<P> +This brought me back at once,—sailing down from Providence in an open +boat, I remember, one lovely moonlight night. Next day I saw Severance, +who declared that he had suffered from nothing worse than a prolonged +sick-headache. I soon got out of him all that had happened. He had seen +the figure in the window every sunny day, he said. Of course he had, if +he chose to look for it, and I could only smile, though it perhaps +seemed unkind. But I stopped smiling when he went on to tell that, not +satisfied with these observations, he had visited the house by +moonlight also, and had then seen, as he averred, a second figure +standing beside the first. +</P> + +<P> +Of course, there was no defence against such a theory as this, except +simply to laugh it down; but it made me very anxious, for it showed +that he was growing thoroughly morbid. "Either it was pure fancy," I +said, "or it was Paul the gardener." +</P> + +<P> +But here he was prepared for me. It seemed that, on seeing the two +figures, Severance had at once left the piazza, and, with an instinct +of common-sense that was surprising, had crossed the garden, scaled the +wall, and looked in at the window of Paul's little cottage, where the +man and his wife were quietly seated at supper, probably after a late +fishing-trip. "There was another reason," he said; but here he stopped, +and would give no description of the second figure, which he had, +however, seen twice again, always by moon-light. He consented to let me +accompany him the following night. +</P> + +<P> +We accordingly went. It was a calm, clear night, and the moon lay +brightly on the bay. The distant shores looked low and filmy; a naval +vessel was in the harbor, and there was a ball on board, with music and +fire-works; some fishermen were singing in their boats, late as was the +hour. Severance was absorbed in his own gloomy reveries; and when we +had crossed the wall, the world seemed left outside, and the glamour of +the place began to creep over me also. I seemed to see my companion +relapsing into some phantom realm, beyond power of withdrawal. I +talked, sang, whistled; but it was all a rather hollow effort, and soon +ceased. The great house looked gloomy and impenetrable, the moonlight +appeared sick and sad, the birch-boughs rustled in a dreary way. We +went up the steps in no jubilant mood. +</P> + +<P> +I crossed the piazza at once, looked in at the farthest window, and saw +there my own image, though far more faintly than in the sunlight. +Severance then joined me, and his reflected shape stood by mine. +Something of the first ghostly impression was renewed, I must confess, +by this meeting of the two shadows; there was something rather awful in +the way the bodiless things nodded and gesticulated at each other in +silence. Still, there was nothing more than this, as Severance was +compelled to own; and I was trying to turn the whole affair into +ridicule, when suddenly, without sound or warning, I saw—as distinctly +as I perceive the words I now write—yet another figure stand at the +window, gaze steadfastly at us for a moment, and then disappear. It +was, as I fancied, that of a woman, but was totally enveloped in a very +full cloak, reaching to the ground, with a peculiarly cut hood, that +stood erect and seemed half as long as the body of the garment. I had a +vague recollection of having seen some such costume in a picture. +</P> + +<P> +Of course, I dashed round the corner of the house, threaded the +birch-trees, and stood on the eastern piazza. No one was there. Without +losing an instant, I ran to the garden wall and climbed it, as +Severance had done, to look into Paul's cottage. That worthy was just +getting into bed, in a state of complicated deshabille, his +blackbearded head wrapped in an old scarlet handkerchief that made him +look like a retired pirate in reduced circumstances. He being accounted +for, I vainly traversed the shrubberies, returned to the western +piazza, watched awhile uselessly, and went home with Severance, a good +deal puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +By daylight the whole thing seemed different. That I had seen the +figure there was no doubt. It was not a reflected image, for we had no +companion. It was, then, human. After all, thought I, it is a +commonplace thing enough, this masquerading in a cloak and hood. +Someone has observed Severance's nocturnal visits, and is amusing +himself at his expense. The peculiarity was, that the thing was so well +done, and the figure had such an air of dignity, that somehow it was +not so easy to make light of it in talking with him. +</P> + +<P> +I went into his room, next day. His sick-headache, or whatever it was, +had come on again, and he was lying on his bed. Rutherford's strange +old book on the Second Sight lay open before him. "Look there," he +said; and I read the motto of a chapter:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "In sunlight one,<BR> + In shadow none,<BR> + In moonlight two,<BR> + In thunder two,<BR> + Then comes Death."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +I threw the book indignantly from me, and began to invent doggerel, +parodying this precious incantation. But Severance did not seem to +enjoy the joke, and it grows tiresome to enact one's own farce and do +one's own applauding. +</P> + +<P> +For several days after he was laid up in earnest; but instead of +getting any mental rest from this, he lay poring over that preposterous +book, and it really seemed as if his brain were a little disturbed. +Meanwhile I watched the great house, day and night, sought for +footsteps, and, by some odd fancy, took frequent observations on the +gardener and his wife. Failing to get any clew, I waited one day for +Paul's absence, and made a call upon the wife, under pretence of +hunting up a missing handkerchief,—for she had been my laundress. I +found the handsome, swarthy creature, with her six bronzed children +around her, training up the Madeira vine that made a bower of the whole +side of her little, black, gambrel-roofed cottage. On learning my +errand, she became full of sympathy, and was soon emptying her +bureau-drawers in pursuit of the lost handkerchief. As she opened the +lowest drawer, I saw within it something which sent all the blood to my +face for a moment. It was a black cloth cloak, with a stiff hood two +feet long, of precisely the pattern worn by the unaccountable visitant +at the window. I turned almost fiercely upon her; but she looked so +innocent as she stood there, caressing and dusting with her fingers +what was evidently a pet garment, that it was really impossible to +denounce her. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that a Bavarian cloak?" said I, trying to be cool and judicial. +</P> + +<P> +Here broke in the eldest boy, named John, aged ten, a native American, +and a sailor already, whom I had twice fished up from a capsized punt. +"Mother ain't a Bavarian," quoth the young salt. "Father's a Bavarian; +mother's a Portegee. Portegees wear them hoods." +</P> + +<P> +"I am a Portuguese, sir, from Fayal," said the woman, prolonging with +sweet intonation the soft name of her birthplace. "This is my capote, +she added, taking up with pride the uncouth costume, while the children +gathered round, as if its vast folds came rarely into sight. +</P> + +<P> +"It has not been unfolded for a year," she said. As she spoke, she +dropped it with a cry, and a little mouse sprang from the skirts, and +whisked away into some corner. We found that the little animal had made +its abode in the heavy woollen, of which three or four thicknesses had +been eaten through, and then matted together into the softest of nests. +This contained, moreover, a small family of mouselets, who certainly +had not taken part in any midnight masquerade. The secret seemed more +remote than ever, for I knew that there was no other Portuguese family +in the town, and there was no confounding this peculiar local costume +with any other. +</P> + +<P> +Returning to Severance's chamber, I said nothing of all this. He was, +by an odd coincidence, looking over a portfolio of Fayal sketches made +by himself during his late voyage. Among them were a dozen studies of +just such capotes as I had seen,—some in profile, completely screening +the wearer, others disclosing women's faces, old or young. He seemed to +wish to put them away, however, when I came in. Really, the plot seemed +to thicken; and it was a little provoking to understand it no better, +when all the materials seemed close to one's hands. +</P> + +<P> +A day or two later, I was summoned to Boston. Returning thence by the +stage-coach, we drove from Tiverton, the whole length of the island, +under one of those wild and wonderful skies which give, better than +anything in nature, the effect of a field of battle. The heavens were +filled with ten thousand separate masses of cloud, varying in shade +from palest gray to iron-black, borne rapidly to and fro by upper and +lower currents of opposing wind. They seemed to be charging, +retreating, breaking, recombining, with puffs of what seemed smoke, and +a few wan sunbeams sometimes striking through for fire. Wherever the +eye turned, there appeared some flying fragment not seen before; and +yet in an hour this noiseless Antietam grew still, and a settled leaden +film overspread the sky, yielding only to some level lines of light +where the sun went down. Perhaps our driver was looking toward the sky +more than to his own affairs, for, just as all this ended a wheel gave +out, and we had to stop in Portsmouth for repairs. By the time we were +again in motion, the changing wind had brought up a final +thunder-storm, which broke upon us ere we reached our homes. It was +rather an uncommon thing, so late in the season; for the lightning, +like other brilliant visitors, usually appears in Oldport during only a +month or two of every year. +</P> + +<P> +The coach set me down at my own door, so soaked that I might have +floated in. I peeped into Severance's room, however, on the way to my +own. Strange to say, no one was there; yet some one had evidently been +lying on the bed, and on the pillow lay the old book on the Second +Sight, open at the very page which had so bewitched him and vexed me. I +glanced at it mechanically, and when I came to the meaningless jumble, +"In thunder two," a flash flooded the chamber, and a sudden fear struck +into my mind. Who knew what insane experiment might have come into that +boy's head? +</P> + +<P> +With sudden impulse, I went downstairs, and found the whole house +empty, until a stupid old woman, coming in from the wood-house with her +apron full of turnips, told me that Severance had been missing since +nightfall, after being for a week in bed, dangerously ill, and +sometimes slightly delirious. The family had become alarmed, and were +out with lanterns, in search of him. +</P> + +<P> +It was safe to say that none of them had more reason to be alarmed than +I. It was something, however, to know where to seek him. Meeting two +neighboring fishermen, I took them with me. As we approached the +well-known wall, the blast blew out our lights, and we could scarcely +speak. The lightning had grown less frequent, yet sheets of flame +seemed occasionally to break over the dark, square sides of the house, +and to send a flickering flame along the ridge-pole and eaves, like a +surf of light. A surf of water broke also behind us on the Blue Rocks, +sounding as if it pursued our very footsteps; and one of the men +whispered hoarsely to me, that a Nantucket brig had parted her cable, +and was drifting in shore. +</P> + +<P> +As we entered the garden, lights gleamed in the shrubbery. To my +surprise, it was Paul and his wife, with their two oldest +children,—these last being quite delighted with the stir, and showing +so much illumination, in the lee of the house, that it was quite a +Feast of Lanterns. They seemed a little surprised at meeting us, too; +but we might as well have talked from Point Judith to Beaver Tail as to +have attempted conversation there. I walked round the building; but a +flash of lightning showed nothing on the western piazza save a +birch-tree, which lay across, blown down by the storm. I therefore went +inside, with Paul's household, leaving the fishermen without. +</P> + +<P> +Never shall I forget that search. As we went from empty room to room, +the thunder seemed rolling on the very roof, and the sharp flashes of +lightning appeared to put out our lamps and then kindle them again. We +traversed the upper regions, mounting by a ladder to the attic; then +descended into the cellar and the wine-vault. The thorough bareness of +the house, the fact that no bright-eyed mice peeped at us from their +holes, no uncouth insects glided on the walls, no flies buzzed in the +unwonted lamplight, scarcely a spider slid down his damp and trailing +web,—all this seemed to enhance the mystery. The vacancy was more +dreary than desertion: it was something old which had never been young. +We found ourselves speaking in whispers; the children kept close to +their parents; we seemed to be chasing some awful Silence from room to +room; and the last apartment, the great drawing-room, we really seemed +loath to enter. The less the rest of the house had to show, the more, +it seemed, must be concentrated there. Even as we entered, a blast of +air from a broken pane extinguished our last light, and it seemed to +take many minutes to rekindle it. +</P> + +<P> +As it shone once more, a brilliant lightning-flash also swept through +the window, and flickered and flickered, as if it would never have +done. The eldest child suddenly screamed, and pointed with her finger, +first to one great window and then to its opposite. My eyes +instinctively followed the successive directions; and the double glance +gave me all I came to seek, and more than all. Outside the western +window lay Severance, his white face against the pane, his eyes gazing +across and past us,—struck down doubtless by the fallen tree, which +lay across the piazza, and hid him from external view. Opposite him, +and seen through the eastern window, stood, statue-like, the hooded +figure, but with the great capote thrown back, showing a sad, eager, +girlish face, with dark eyes, and a good deal of black hair,—one of +those faces of peasant beauty such as America never shows,—faces where +ignorance is almost raised into refinement by its childlike look. +Contrasted with Severance's wild gaze, the countenance wore an +expression of pitying forgiveness, almost of calm; yet it told of +wasting sorrow and the wreck of a life. Gleaming lustrous beneath the +lightning, it had a more mystic look when the long flash had ceased, +and the single lantern burned beneath it, like an altar-lamp before a +shrine. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Aunt Emilia," exclaimed the little girl; and as she spoke, the +father, turning angrily upon her, dashed the light to the ground, and +groped his way out without a word of answer. I was too much alarmed +about Severance to care for aught else, and quickly made my way to the +western piazza, where I found him stunned by the fallen tree,—injured, +I feared, internally,—still conscious, but unable to speak. +</P> + +<P> +With the aid of my two companions I got him home, and he was ill for +several weeks before he died. During his illness he told me all he had +to tell; and though Paul and his family disappeared next day,—perhaps +going on board the Nantucket brig, which had narrowly escaped +shipwreck,—I afterwards learned all the remaining facts from the only +neighbor in whom they had placed confidence. Severance, while +convalescing at a country-house in Fayal, had fallen passionately in +love with a young peasant-girl, who had broken off her intended +marriage for love of him, and had sunk into a half-imbecile melancholy +when deserted. She had afterwards come to this country, and joined her +sister, Paul's wife. Paul had received her reluctantly, and only on +condition that her existence should be concealed. This was the easier, +as it was one of her whims to go out only by night, when she had +haunted the great house, which, she said, reminded her of her own +island, so that she liked to wear thither the capote which had been the +pride of her heart at home. On the few occasions when she had caught a +glimpse of Severance, he had seemed to her, no doubt, as much a phantom +as she seemed to him. On the night of the storm, they had both sought +their favorite haunt, unconscious of each other, and the friends of +each had followed in alarm. +</P> + +<P> +I got traces of the family afterwards at Nantucket and later at +Narragansett, and had reason to think that Paul was employed, one +summer, by a farmer on Conanicut; but I was always just too late for +them; and the money which Severance left, as his only reparation for +poor Emilia, never was paid. The affair was hushed up, and very few, +even among the neighbors, knew the tragedy that had passed by them with +the storm. +</P> + +<P> +After Severance died, I had that temporary feeling of weakened life +which remains after the first friend or the first love passes, and the +heart seems to lose its sense of infinity. His father came, and prosed, +and measured the windows of the empty house, and calculated angles of +reflection, and poured even death and despair into his crucible of +commonplace; the mother whined in her feebler way at home; while the +only brother, a talkative medical student, tried to pooh-pooh it all, +and sent me a letter demonstrating that Emilia was never in America, +and that the whole was an hallucination. I cared nothing for his +theory; it all seemed like a dream to me, and, as all the actors but +myself are gone, it seems so still. The great house is yet unoccupied, +and likely to remain so; and he who looks through its western window +may still be startled by the weird image of himself. As I lingered +round it, to-day, beneath the winter sunlight, the snow drifted +pitilessly past its ivied windows, and so hushed my footsteps that I +scarce knew which was the phantom, myself or my reflection, and +wondered if the medical student would not argue me out of existence +next. +</P> + +<P> +This is the end of my story. If I sought for a moral, it would be hard +to attach one to a thing so slight. It could only be this, that shadow +and substance are always ready to link themselves, in unexpected ways, +against the diseased imagination; and that remorse can make the most +transparent crystal into a mirror for its sin. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="fire"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +A DRIFT-WOOD FIRE. +</H2> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "This ae nighte, this ae nighte,<BR> + Every nighte and alle,<BR> + Fire and salt and candle-lighte,<BR> + And Christe receive thy saule."<BR> + <I>A Lyke-Wake Dirge</I>.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +The October days grow rapidly shorter, and brighten with more +concentrated light. It is but half past five, yet the sun dips redly +behind Conanicut, the sunset-gun booms from our neighbor's yacht, the +flag glides down from his mainmast, and the slender pennant, running +swiftly up the opposite halyards, dances and flickers like a flame, and +at last perches, with dainty hesitation, at the mast-head. A tint of +salmon-color, burnished into long undulations of lustre, overspreads +the shallower waves; but a sober gray begins to steal in beneath the +sunset rays, and will soon claim even the brilliant foreground for its +own. Pile a few more fragments of drift-wood upon the fire in the great +chimney, little maiden, and then couch yourself before it, that I may +have your glowing childhood as a foreground for those heaped relics of +shipwreck and despair. You seem, in your scarlet boating-dress, Annie, +like some bright tropic bird, alit for a moment beside that other bird +of the tropics, flame. +</P> + +<P> +Thoreau thought that his temperament dated from an earlier period than +the agricultural, because he preferred woodcraft to gardening; and it +is also pleasant to revert to the period when men had invented neither +saws nor axes, but simply picked up their fuel in forests or on +ocean-shores. Fire is a thing which comes so near us, and combines +itself so closely with our life, that we enjoy it best when we work for +it in some way, so that our fuel shall warm us twice, as the country +people say,—once in the getting, and again in the burning. Yet no work +seems to have more of the flavor of play in it than that of collecting +drift-wood on some convenient beach, or than this boat-service of ours, +Annie, when we go wandering from island to island in the harbor, and +glide over sea-weedgroves and the habitations of crabs,—or to the +flowery and ruined bastions of Rose Island,—or to those caves at +Coaster's Harbor where we played Victor Hugo, and were eaten up in +fancy by a cuttle-fish. Then we voyaged, you remember, to that further +cave in, the solid rock, just above low-water-mark, a cell +unapproachable by land, and high enough for you to stand erect. There +you wished to play Constance in Marmion, and to be walled up alive, if +convenient; but as it proved impracticable on that day, you helped me +to secure some bits of drift-wood instead. Longer voyages brought waifs +from remoter islands,—whose very names tell, perchance, the changing +story of mariners long since wrecked,—isles baptized Patience and +Prudence, Hope and Despair. And other relics bear witness of more +distant beaches, and of those wrecks which still lie, sentinels of +ruin, along Brenton's Point and Castle Hill. +</P> + +<P> +To collect drift-wood is like botanizing, and one soon learns to +recognize the prevailing species, and to look with pleased eagerness +for new. It is a tragic botany indeed, where, as in enchanted gardens, +every specimen has a voice, and, as you take each from the ground, you +expect from it a cry like the mandrake's. And from what a garden it +comes! As one walks round Brenton's Point after an autumnal storm, it +seems as if the passionate heaving of the waves had brought wholly new +tints to the surface, hues unseen even in dreams before, greens and +purples impossible in serener days. These match the prevailing green +and purple of the slate-cliffs; and Nature in truth carries such fine +fitnesses yet further. For, as we tread the delicate seaside turf, +which makes the farthest point seem merely the land's last bequest of +emerald to the ocean, we suddenly come upon curved lines of lustrous +purple amid the grass, rows on rows of bright muscle-shells, regularly +traced as if a child had played there,—the graceful high-water-mark of +the terrible storm. +</P> + +<P> +It is the crowning fascination of the sea, the consummation of such +might in such infantine delicacy. You may notice it again in the +summer, when our bay is thronged for miles on miles with inch-long +jelly-fishes,—lovely creatures, in shape like disembodied +gooseberries, and shot through and through in the sunlight with all +manner of blue and golden glistenings, and bearing tiny rows of +fringing oars that tremble like a baby's eyelids. There is less of +gross substance in them than in any other created thing,—mere water +and outline, destined to perish at a touch, but seemingly never +touching, for they float secure, finding no conceivable cradle so soft +as this awful sea. They are like melodies amid Beethoven's Symphonies, +or like the songs that wander through Shakespeare, and that seem things +too fragile to risk near Cleopatra's passion and Hamlet's woe. Thus +tender is the touch of ocean; and look, how around this piece of oaken +timber, twisted and torn and furrowed,—its iron bolts snapped across +as if bitten,—there is yet twined a gay garland of ribbon-weed, +bearing on its trailing stem a cluster of bright shells, like a +mermaid's chatelaine. +</P> + +<P> +Thus adorned, we place it on the blaze. As night gathers without, the +gale rises. It is a season of uneasy winds, and of strange, rainless +storms, which perplex the fishermen, and indicate rough weather out at +sea. As the house trembles and the windows rattle, we turn towards the +fire with a feeling of safety. Representing the fiercest of all +dangers, it yet expresses security and comfort. +</P> + +<P> +Should a gale tear the roof from over our heads and show the black sky +alone above us, we should not feel utterly homeless while this fire +burned,—at least I can recall such a feeling of protection when once +left suddenly roofless by night in one of the wild gorges of Mount +Katahdin. There is a positive demonstrative force in an open fire, +which makes it your fit ally in a storm. Settled and obdurate cold may +well be encountered by the quiet heat of an invisible furnace. But this +howling wind might depress one's spirits, were it not met by a force as +palpable,—the warm blast within answering to the cold blast without. +The wide chimney then becomes the scene of contest: wind meets wind, +sparks encounter rain-drops, they fight in the air like the visioned +soldiers of Attila; sometimes a daring drop penetrates, and dies, +hissing, on the hearth; and sometimes a troop of sparks may make a +sortie from the chimney-top. I know not how else we can meet the +elements by a defiance so magnificent as that from this open hearth; +and in burning drift-wood, especially, we turn against the enemy his +own ammunition. For on these fragments three elements have already done +their work. Water racked and strained the hapless ships, air hunted +them, and they were thrown at last upon earth, the sternest of all. Now +fire takes the shattered remnants, and makes them a means of comfort +and defence. +</P> + +<P> +It has been pointed out by botanists, as one of Nature's most graceful +retributions, that, in the building of the ship, the apparent balance +of vegetable forces is reversed, and the herb becomes master of the +tree, when the delicate, blue-eyed flax, taking the stately pine under +its protection, stretches over it in cordage, or spreads in sails. But +more graceful still is this further contest between the great natural +elements, when this most fantastic and vanishing thing, this delicate +and dancing flame, subdues all these huge vassals to its will, and, +after earth and air and water have done their utmost, comes in to +complete the task, and to be crowned as monarch. "The sea drinks the +air," said Anacreon, "and the sun the sea." My fire is the child of the +sun. +</P> + +<P> +I come back from every evening stroll to this gleaming blaze; it is a +domestic lamp, and shines for me everywhere. To my imagination it burns +as a central flame among these dark houses, and lights up the whole of +this little fishing hamlet, humble suburb of the fashionable +watering-place. I fancy that others too perceive the light, and that +certain huge visitors are attracted, even when the storm keeps +neighbors and friends at home. For the slightest presage of foul +weather is sure to bring to yonder anchorage a dozen silent vessels, +that glide up the harbor for refuge, and are heard but once, when the +chain-cable rattles as it runs out, and the iron hand of the anchor +grasps the rock. It always seems to me that these unwieldy creatures +are gathered, not about the neighboring lighthouse only, but around our +ingle-side. Welcome, ye great winged strangers, whose very names are +unknown! This hearth is comprehensive in its hospitalities; it will +accept from you either its fuel or its guests; your mariners may warm +themselves beside it, or your scattered timbers may warm me. Strange +instincts might be supposed to thrill and shudder in the ribs of ships +that sail toward the beacon of a drift-wood fire. Morituri salutant. A +single shock, and all that magnificent fabric may become mere fuel to +prolong the flame. +</P> + +<P> +Here, beside the roaring ocean, this blaze represents the only +receptacle more vast than ocean. We say, "unstable as water." But there +is nothing unstable about the flickering flame; it is persistent and +desperate, relentless in following its ends. It is the most tremendous +physical force that man can use. "If drugs fail," said Hippocrates, +"use the knife; should the knife fail, use fire." Conquered countries +were anciently given over to fire and sword: the latter could only +kill, but the other could annihilate. See how thoroughly it does its +work, even when domesticated: it takes up everything upon the hearth +and leaves all clean. The Greek proverb says, that "the sea drinks up +all the sins of the world." Save fire only, the sea is the most +capacious of all things. +</P> + +<P> +But its task is left incomplete: it only hides its records, while fire +destroys them. In the Norse Edda, when the gods try their games, they +find themselves able to out-drink the ocean, but not to eat like the +flame. Logi, or fire, licks up food and trencher and all. This chimney +is more voracious than the sea. Give time enough, and all which yonder +depths contain might pass through this insatiable throat, leaving only +a few ashes and the memory of a flickering shade,—pulvis et umbra. We +recognize this when we have anything to conceal. Deep crimes are buried +in earth, deeper are sunk In water, but the deepest of all are confided +by trembling men to the profounder secrecy of flame. If every old +chimney could narrate the fearful deeds whose last records it has +cancelled, what sighs of undying passion would breathe from its dark +summit,—what groans of guilt! Those lurid sparks that whirl over +yonder house-top, tossed aloft as if fire itself could not contain +them, may be the last embers of some written scroll, one rescued word +of which might suffice for the ruin of a household, and the crushing of +many hearts. +</P> + +<P> +But this domestic hearth of ours holds only, besides its drift-wood, +the peaceful records of the day,—its shreds and fragments and fallen +leaves. As the ancients poured wine upon their flames, so I pour +rose-leaves in libation; and each morning contributes the faded petals +of yesterday's wreaths. All our roses of this season have passed up +this chimney in the blaze. Their delicate veins were filled with all +the summer's fire, and they returned to fire once more,—ashes to +ashes, flame to flame. For holding, with Bettina, that every flower +which is broken becomes immortal in the sacrifice, I deem it more +fitting that their earthly part should die by a concentration of that +burning element which would at any rate be in some form their ending; +so they have their altar on this bright hearth. +</P> + +<P> +Let us pile up the fire anew with drift-wood, Annie. We can choose at +random; for our logs came from no single forest. It is considered an +important branch of skill in the country to know the varieties of +firewood, and to choose among them well. But to-night we have the whole +Atlantic shore for our wood-pile, and the Gulf Stream for a teamster. +Every foreign tree of rarest name may, for aught we know, send its +treasures to our hearth. Logwood and satinwood may mingle with cedar +and maple; the old cellar floors of this once princely town are of +mahogany, and why not our fire? I have a very indistinct impression +what teak is; but if it means something black and impenetrable and +nearly indestructible, then there is a piece of it, Annie, on the +hearth at this moment. +</P> + +<P> +It must be owned, indeed, that timbers soaked long enough in salt-water +seem almost to lose their capacity of being burnt. Perhaps it was for +this reason that, in the ancient "lyke-wakes" of the North of England, +a pinch of salt was placed upon the dead body, as a safeguard against +purgatorial flames. Yet salt melts ice, and so represents heat, one +would think; and one can fancy that these fragments should be doubly +inflammable, by their saline quality, and by the unmerciful rubbing +which the waves have given them. I have noticed what warmth this +churning process communicates to the clotted foam that lies in +tremulous masses among the rocks, holding all the blue of ocean in its +bubbles. After one's hands are chilled with the water, one can warm +them in the foam. These drift-wood fragments are but the larger foam of +shipwrecks. +</P> + +<P> +What strange comrades this flame brings together! As foreign sailors +from remotest seas may sit and chat side by side, before some +boarding-house fire in this seaport town, so these shapeless sticks, +perhaps gathered from far wider wanderings, now nestle together against +the backlog, and converse in strange dialects as they burn. It is +written in the Heetopades of Veeshnoo Sarma, that, "as two planks, +floating on the surface of the mighty receptacle of the waters, meet, +and having met are separated forever, so do beings in this life come +together and presently are parted." Perchance this chimney reunites the +planks, at the last moment, as death must reunite friends. +</P> + +<P> +And with what wondrous voices these strayed wanderers talk to one +another on the hearth! They bewitch us by the mere fascination of their +language. Such a delicacy of intonation, yet such a volume of sound. +The murmur of the surf is not so soft or so solemn. There are the +merest hints and traceries of tones,—phantom voices, more remote from +noise than anything which is noise; and yet there is an undertone of +roar, as from a thousand cities, the cities whence these wild voyagers +came. Watch the decreasing sounds of a fire as it dies,—for it seems +cruel to leave it, as we do, to die alone. I watched beside this hearth +last night. As the fire sank down, the little voices grew stiller and +more still, and at last there came only irregular beats, at varying +intervals, as if from a heart that acted spasmodically, or as if it +were measuring off by ticks the little remnant of time. Then it said, +"Hush!" two or three times, and there came something so like a sob that +it seemed human; and then all was still. +</P> + +<P> +If these dying voices are so sweet and subtile, what legends must be +held untold by yonder fragments that lie unconsumed! Photography has +familiarized us with the thought that every visible act, since the +beginning of the world, has stamped itself upon surrounding surfaces, +even if we have not yet skill to discern and hold the image. And +especially, in looking on a liquid expanse, such as the ocean in calm, +one is haunted with these fancies. I gaze into its depths, and wonder +if no stray reflection has been imprisoned there, still accessible to +human eyes, of some scene of passion or despair it has witnessed; as +some maiden visitor at Holyrood Palace, looking in the ancient metallic +mirror, might start at the thought that perchance some lineament of +Mary Stuart may suddenly look out, in desolate and forgotten beauty, +mingled with her own. And if the mere waters of the ocean, satiate and +wearied with tragedy as they must be, still keep for our fancy such +records, how much more might we attribute a human consciousness to +these shattered fragments, each seared by its own special grief. +</P> + +<P> +Yet while they are silent, I like to trace back for these component +parts of my fire such brief histories as I share. This block, for +instance, came from the large schooner which now lies at the end of +Castle Hill Beach, bearing still aloft its broken masts and shattered +rigging, and with its keel yet stanch, except that the stern-post is +gone,—so that each tide sweeps in its green harvest of glossy kelp, +and then tosses it in the hold like hay, desolately tenanting the place +which once sheltered men. The floating weed, so graceful in its own +place, looks but dreary when thus confined. On that fearfully cold +Monday of last winter (January 8, 1866) when the mercury stood at -10 +deg.; even in this mildest corner of New England,—this vessel was +caught helplessly amid the ice that drifted out of the west passage of +Narragansett Bay, before the fierce north-wind. They tried to beat into +the eastern entrance, but the schooner seemed in sinking condition, the +sails and helm were clogged with ice, and every rope, as an eye-witness +told me, was as large as a man's body with frozen sleet. Twice they +tacked across, making no progress; and then, to save their lives, ran +the vessel on the rocks and got ashore. After they had left her, a +higher wave swept her off, and drifted her into a little cove, where +she has ever since remained. +</P> + +<P> +There were twelve wrecks along this shore last winter,—more than +during any season for a quarter of a century. I remember when the first +of these lay in great fragments on Graves Point, a schooner having been +stranded on Cormorant Rocks outside, and there broken in pieces by the +surf. She had been split lengthwise, and one great side was leaning up +against the sloping rock, bows on, like some wild sea-creature never +before beheld of men, and come there but to die. So strong was this +impression that when I afterwards saw men at work upon the wreck, +tearing out the iron bolts and chains, it seemed like torturing the +last moments of a living thing. At my next visit there was no person in +sight; another companion fragment had floated ashore, and the two lay +peacefully beside the sailors' graves (which give the name to the +point), as if they found comfort there. A little farther on there was a +brig ashore and deserted. A fog came in from the sea; and, as I sat by +the graves, some unseen passing vessel struck eight bells for noon. For +a moment I fancied that it came from the empty brig,—a ghostly call, +to summon phantom sailors. +</P> + +<P> +That smouldering brand, which has alternately gleamed and darkened for +so many minutes, I brought from Price's Neck last winter, when the +Brenton's Reef Light-ship went ashore. Yonder the oddly shaped vessel +rides at anchor now, two miles from land, bearing her lanterns aloft at +fore and main top. She parted her moorings by night, in the fearful +storm of October 19, 1865; and I well remember, that, as I walked +through the streets that wild evening, it seemed dangerous to be out of +doors, and I tried to imagine what was going on at sea, while at that +very moment the light-ship was driving on toward me in the darkness. It +was thus that it happened:— +</P> + +<P> +There had been a heavy gale from the southeast, which, after a few +hours of lull, suddenly changed in the afternoon to the southwest, +which is, on this coast, the prevailing direction. Beginning about +three o'clock, this new wind had risen almost to a hurricane by six, +and held with equal fury till midnight, after which it greatly +diminished, though, when I visited the wreck next morning, it was hard +to walk against the blast. The light-ship went adrift at eight in the +evening; the men let go another anchor, with forty fathoms of cable; +this parted also, but the cable dragged, as she drifted in, keeping the +vessel's head to the wind, which was greatly to her advantage. The +great waves took her over five lines of reef, on each of which her keel +grazed or held for a time. She came ashore on Price's Neck at last, +about eleven. +</P> + +<P> +It was utterly dark; the sea broke high over the ship, even over her +lanterns, and the crew could only guess that they were near the land by +the sound of the surf. The captain was not on board, and the mate was +in command, though his leg had been broken while holding the tiller. +They could not hear each other's voices, and could scarcely cling to +the deck. There seemed every chance that the ship would go to pieces +before daylight. At last one of the crew, named William Martin, a +Scotchman, thinking, as he afterwards told me, of his wife and three +children, and of the others on board who had families,—and that +something must be done, and he might as well do it as anybody,—got a +rope bound around his waist, and sprang overboard. I asked the mate +next day whether he ordered Martin to do this, and he said, "No, he +volunteered it. I would not have ordered him, for I would not have done +it myself." What made the thing most remarkable was, that the man +actually could not swim, and did not know how far off the shore was, +but trusted to the waves to take him thither,—perhaps two hundred +yards. His trust was repaid. Struggling in the mighty surf, he +sometimes felt the rocks beneath his feet, sometimes bruised his hands +against them. At any rate he got on shore alive, and, securing his +rope, made his way over the moors to the town, and summoned his +captain, who was asleep in his own house. They returned at once to the +spot, found the line still fast, and the rest of the crew, four in +number, lowered the whaleboat, and were pulled to shore by the rope, +landing safely before daybreak. +</P> + +<P> +When I saw the vessel next morning, she lay in a little cove, stern on, +not wholly out of water,—steady and upright as in a dry-dock, with no +sign of serious injury, except that the rudder was gone. She did not +seem like a wreck; the men were the wrecks. As they lay among the +rocks, bare or tattered, scarcely able to move, waiting for low tide to +go on board the vessel, it was like a scene after a battle. They +appeared too inert, poor fellows, to do anything but yearn toward the +sun. When they changed position for shelter, from time to time, they +crept along the rocks, instead of walking. They were like the little +floating sprays of sea-weed, when you take them from the water and they +become a mere mass of pulp in your hand. Martin shared in the general +exhaustion, and no wonder; but he told his story very simply, and +showed me where he had landed. The feat seemed to me then, and has +always seemed, almost incredible, even for an expert swimmer. He thus +summed up the motives for his action: "I thought that God was first, +and I was next, and if I did the best I could, no man could do more +than that; so I jumped overboard." It is pleasant to add, that, though +a poor man, he utterly declined one of those small donations of money +by which we Anglo-Saxons are wont clumsily to express our personal +enthusiasms; and I think I appreciated his whole action the more for +its coming just at the close of a war during which so many had readily +accepted their award of praise or pay for acts of less intrinsic daring +than his. +</P> + +<P> +Stir the fire, Annie, with yonder broken fragment of a flag-staff; its +truck is still remaining, though the flag is gone, and every nation +might claim it. As you stir, the burning brands evince a remembrance of +their sea-lost life, the sparks drift away like foam-flakes, the flames +wave and flap like sails, and the wail of the chimney sings a second +shipwreck. As the tiny scintillations gleam and scatter and vanish in +the soot of the chimney-wall, instead of "There goes the parson, and +there goes the clerk," it must be the captain and the crew we watch. A +drift-wood fire should always have children to tend it; for there is +something childlike about it, unlike the steadier glow of walnut logs. +It has a coaxing, infantine way of playing with the oddly shaped bits +of wood we give it, and of deserting one to caress with flickering +impulse another; and at night, when it needs to be extinguished, it is +as hard to put to rest as a nursery of children, for some bright little +head is constantly springing up anew, from its pillow of ashes. And, in +turn, what endless delight children find in the manipulation of a fire! +</P> + +<P> +What a variety of playthings, too, in this fuel of ours; such +inexplicable pieces, treenails and tholepins, trucks and sheaves, the +lid of a locker, and a broken handspike. These larger fragments are +from spars and planks and knees. Some were dropped overboard in this +quiet harbor; others may have floated from Fayal or Hispaniola, +Mozambique or Zanzibar. This eagle figure-head, chipped and battered, +but still possessing highly aquiline features and a single eye, may +have tangled its curved beak in the vast weed-beds of the Sargasso Sea, +or dipped it in the Sea of Milk. Tell us your story, O heroic but +dilapidated bird! and perhaps song or legend may find in it themes that +shall be immortal. +</P> + +<P> +The eagle is silent, and I suspect, Annie, that he is but a plain, +home-bred fowl after all. But what shall we say to this piece of plank, +hung with barnacles that look large enough for the fabled +barnacle-goose to emerge from? Observe this fragment a little. Another +piece is secured to it, not neatly, as with proper tools, but clumsily, +with many nails of different sizes, driven unevenly and with their +heads battered awry. Wedged clumsily in between these pieces, and +secured by a supplementary nail, is a bit of broken rope. Let us touch +that rope tenderly; for who knows what despairing hands may last have +clutched it when this rude raft was made? It may, indeed, have been the +handiwork of children, on the Penobscot or the St. Mary's River. But +its Condition betokens voyages yet longer; and it may just as well have +come from the stranded "Golden Rule" on Roncador Reef,—that +picturesque shipwreck where (as a rescued woman told me) the eyes of +the people in their despair seemed full of sublime resignation, so that +there was no confusion or outcry, and even gamblers and harlots looked +death in the face as nobly, for all that could be seen, as the saintly +and the pure. Or who knows but it floated round Cape Horn, from that +other wreck, on the Pacific shore, of the "Central America," where the +rough miners found that there was room in the boats only for their +wives and their gold; and where, pushing the women off, with a few men +to row them, the doomed husbands gave a cheer of courage as the ship +went down. +</P> + +<P> +Here again is a piece of pine wood, cut in notches as for a tally, and +with every seventh notch the longest; these notches having been cut +deeply at the beginning, and feebly afterwards, stopping abruptly +before the end was reached. Who could have carved it? Not a school-boy +awaiting vacation, or a soldier expecting his discharge; for then each +tally would have been cut off, instead of added. Nor could it be the +squad of two soldiers who garrison Rose Island; for their tour of duty +lasts but a week. There are small barnacles and sea-weed too, which +give the mysterious stick a sort of brevet antiquity. It has been long +adrift, and these little barnacles, opening and closing daily their +minute valves, have kept meanwhile their own register, and with their +busy fringed fingers have gathered from the whole Atlantic that small +share of its edible treasures which sufficed for them. Plainly this +waif has had its experiences. It was Robinson Crusoe's, Annie, depend +upon it. We will save it from the flames, and when we establish our +marine museum, nothing save a veritable piece of the North Pole shall +be held so valuable as this undoubted relic from Juan Fernandez. +</P> + +<P> +But the night deepens, and its reveries must end. With the winter will +pass away the winter-storms, and summer will bring its own more +insidious perils. Then the drowsy old seaport will blaze into splendor, +through saloon and avenue, amidst which many a bright career will end +suddenly and leave no sign. The ocean tries feebly to emulate the +profounder tragedies of the shore. In the crowded halls of gay hotels, +I see wrecks drifting hopelessly, dismasted and rudderless, to be +stranded on hearts harder and more cruel than Brenton's Reef, yet hid +in smiles falser than its fleecy foam. What is a mere forsaken ship, +compared with stately houses from which those whom I first knew in +their youth and beauty have since fled into midnight and despair? +</P> + +<P> +But one last gleam upon our hearth lights up your innocent eyes, little +Annie, and dispels the gathering shade. The flame dies down again, and +you draw closer to my side. The pure moon looks in at the southern +window, replacing the ruddier glow; while the fading embers lisp and +prattle to one another, like drowsy children, more and more faintly, +till they fall asleep. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="creation"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +AN ARTIST'S CREATION. +</H2> + +<P> +When I reached Kenmure's house, one August evening, it was rather a +disappointment to find that he and his charming Laura had absented +themselves for twenty-four hours. I had not seen them together since +their marriage; my admiration for his varied genius and her unvarying +grace was at its height, and I was really annoyed at the delay. My fair +cousin, with her usual exact housekeeping, had prepared everything for +her guest, and then bequeathed me, as she wrote, to Janet and baby +Marian. It was a pleasant arrangement, for between baby Marian and me +there existed a species of passion, I might almost say of betrothal, +ever since that little three-year-old sunbeam had blessed my mother's +house by lingering awhile in it, six months before. Still I went to bed +disappointed, though the delightful windows of the chamber looked out +upon the glimmering bay, and the swinging lanterns at the yard-arms of +the frigates shone like some softer constellation beneath the brilliant +sky. The house was so close upon the water that the cool waves seemed +to plash deliciously against its very basement; and it was a comfort to +think that, if there were no adequate human greetings that night, there +would be plenty in the morning, since Marian would inevitably be +pulling my eyelids apart before sunrise. +</P> + +<P> +It was scarcely dawn when I was roused by a little arm round my neck, +and waked to think I had one of Raphael's cherubs by my side. Fingers +of waxen softness were ruthlessly at work upon my eyes, and the little +form that met my touch felt lithe and elastic, like a kitten's limbs. +There was just light enough to see the child, perched on the edge of +the bed, her soft blue dressing-gown trailing over the white +night-dress, while her black and long-fringed eyes shone through the +dimness of morning. She yielded gladly to my grasp, and I could fondle +again the silken hair, the velvety brunette cheek, the plump, childish +shoulders. Yet sleep still half held me, and when my cherub appeared to +hold it a cherubic practice to begin the day with a demand for lively +anecdote, I was fain drowsily to suggest that she might first tell some +stories to her doll. With the sunny readiness that was a part of her +nature, she straightway turned to that young lady,—plain Susan +Halliday, with both cheeks patched, and eyes of different colors,—and +soon discoursed both her and me into repose. +</P> + +<P> +When I waked again, it was to find the child conversing with the +morning star, which still shone through the window, scarcely so lucent +as her eyes, and bidding it go home to its mother, the sun. Another +lapse into dreams, and then a more vivid awakening, and she had my ear +at last, and won story after story, requiting them with legends of her +own youth, "almost a year ago,"—how she was perilously lost, for +instance, in the small front yard, with a little playmate, early in the +afternoon, and how they came and peeped into the window, and thought +all the world had forgotten them. Then the sweet voice, distinct in its +articulation as Laura's, went straying off into wilder fancies,—a +chaos of autobiography and conjecture, like the letters of a war +correspondent. You would have thought her little life had yielded more +pangs and fears than might have sufficed for the discovery of the North +Pole; but breakfast-time drew near at last, and Janet's honest voice +was heard outside the door. I rather envied the good Scotchwoman the +pleasant task of polishing the smooth cheeks and combing the +dishevelled silk; but when, a little later, the small maiden was riding +down stairs in my arms, I envied no one. +</P> + +<P> +At sight of the bread and milk, my cherub was transformed into a hungry +human child, chiefly anxious to reach the bottom of her porringer. I +was with her a great deal that day. She gave no manner of trouble: it +was like having the charge of a floating butterfly, endowed with warm +arms to clasp, and a silvery voice to prattle. I sent Janet out to +sail, with the other servants, by way of frolic, and Marian's perfect +temperament was shown in the way she watched the departing. +</P> + +<P> +"There they go," she said, as she stood and danced at the window. "Now +they are out of sight." +</P> + +<P> +"What!" I said, "are you pleased to have your friends go?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she answered; "but I shall be pleased-er to see them come back." +</P> + +<P> +Life to her was no alternation between joy and grief, but only between +joy and delight. +</P> + +<P> +Twilight brought us to an improvised concert. Climbing the piano-stool, +she went over the notes with her little taper fingers, touching the +keys in a light, knowing way, that proved her a musician's child. Then +I must play for her, and let the dance begin. This was a wondrous +performance on her part, and consisted at first in hopping up and down +on one spot, with no change of motion, but in her hands. She resembled +a minute and irrepressible Shaker, or a live and beautiful marionnette. +Then she placed Janet in the middle of the floor, And performed the +dance round her, after the manner of Vivien and Merlin. Then came her +supper, which, like its predecessors, was a solid and absorbing meal; +then one more fairy story, to magnetize her off, and she danced and +sang herself up stairs. And if she first came to me in the morning with +a halo round her head, she seemed still to retain it when I at last +watched her kneeling in the little bed—perfectly motionless, with her +hands placed together, and her long lashes sweeping her cheeks—to +repeat two verses of a hymn which Janet had taught her. My nerves +quivered a little when I saw that Susan Halliday had also been duly +prepared for the night, and had been put in the same attitude, so far +as her jointless anatomy permitted. This being ended, the doll and her +mistress reposed together, and only an occasional toss of the vigorous +limbs, or a stifled baby murmur, would thenceforth prove, through the +darkened hours, that the one figure had in it more of life than the +other. +</P> + +<P> +On the next morning Kenmure and Laura came back to us, and I walked +down to receive them at the boat. I had forgotten how striking was +their appearance, as they stood together. His broad, strong, Saxon +look, his manly bearing and clear blue eyes, enhanced the fascination +of her darker beauty. +</P> + +<P> +America is full of the short-lived bloom and freshness of girlhood; but +it is a rare thing in one's life to see a beauty that really controls +with a permanent charm. One must remember such personal loveliness, as +one recalls some particular moonlight or sunset, with a special and +concentrated joy, which the multiplicity of fainter impressions cannot +disturb. When in those days we used to read, in Petrarch's one hundred +and twenty-third sonnet, that he had once beheld on earth angelic +manners and celestial charms, whose very remembrance was a delight and +an affliction, since it made all else appear but dream and shadow, we +could easily fancy that nature had certain permanent attributes which +accompanied the name of Laura. +</P> + +<P> +Our Laura had that rich brunette beauty before which the mere snow and +roses of the blonde must always seem wan and unimpassioned. In the +superb suffusions of her cheek there seemed to flow a tide of passions +and powers that might have been tumultuous in a meaner woman, but over +which, in her, the clear and brilliant eyes and the sweet, proud mouth +presided in unbroken calm. These superb tints implied resources only, +not a struggle. With this torrent from the tropics in her veins, she +was the most equable person I ever saw, and had a supreme and delicate +good-sense, which, if not supplying the place of genius, at least +comprehended its work. Not intellectually gifted herself, perhaps, she +seemed the cause of gifts in others, and furnished the atmosphere in +which all showed their best. With the steady and thoughtful enthusiasm +of her Puritan ancestors, she combined that charm which is so rare +among their descendants,—a grace which fascinated the humblest, while +it would have been just the same in the society of kings. Her person +had the equipoise and symmetry of her mind. While it had its separate +points of beauty, each a source of distinct and peculiar pleasure,—as, +the outline of her temples, the white line that parted her nightblack +hair, the bend of her wrists, the moulding of her finger-tips,—yet +these details were lost in the overwhelming sweetness of her presence, +and the serene atmosphere that she diffused over all human life. +</P> + +<P> +A few days passed rapidly by us. We walked and rode and boated and +read. Little Marian came and went, a living sunbeam, a self-sufficing +thing. It was soon obvious that she was far less demonstrative toward +her parents than toward me; while her mother, gracious to her as to +all, yet rarely caressed her, and Kenmure, though habitually kind, was +inclined to ignore her existence, and could scarcely tolerate that she +should for one instant preoccupy his wife. For Laura he lived, and she +must live for him. He had a studio, which I rarely entered and Marian +never, though Laura was almost constantly there; and after the first +cordiality was past, I observed that their daily expeditions were +always arranged for only two. The weather was beautiful, and they led +the wildest outdoor life, cruising all day or all night among the +islands, regardless of hours, and almost of health. No matter: Kenmure +liked it, and what he liked she loved. When at home, they were chiefly +in the studio, he painting, modelling, poetizing perhaps, and she +inseparably united with him in all. It was very beautiful, this +unworldly and passionate love, and I could have borne to be omitted in +their daily plans,—since little Marian was left to me,—save that it +seemed so strange to omit her also. Besides, there grew to be something +a little oppressive in this peculiar atmosphere; it was like living in +a greenhouse. +</P> + +<P> +Yet they always spoke in the simplest way of this absorbing passion, as +of something about which no reticence was needed; it was too sacred not +to be mentioned; it would be wrong not to utter freely to all the world +what was doubtless the best thing the world possessed. Thus Kenmure +made Laura his model in all his art; not to coin her into wealth or +fame,—he would have scorned it; he would have valued fame and wealth +only as instruments for proclaiming her. Looking simply at these two +lovers, then, it was plain that no human union could be more noble or +stainless. Yet so far as others were concerned, it sometimes seemed to +me a kind of duplex selfishness, so profound and so undisguised as to +make one shudder. "Is it," I asked myself at such moments, "a great +consecration, or a great crime?" But something must be allowed, +perhaps, for my own private dis-satisfactions in Marian's behalf. +</P> + +<P> +I had easily persuaded Janet to let me have a peep every night at my +darling, as she slept; and once I was surprised to find Laura sitting +by the small white bed. Graceful and beautiful as she always was, she +never before had seemed to me so lovely, for she never had seemed quite +like a mother. But I could not demand a sweeter look of tenderness than +that with which she now gazed upon her child. +</P> + +<P> +Little Marian lay with one brown, plump hand visible from its full +white sleeve, while the other nestled half hid beneath the sheet, +grasping a pair of blue morocco shoes, the last acquisition of her +favorite doll. Drooping from beneath the pillow hung a handful of +scarlet poppies, which the child had wished to place under her head, in +the very superfluous project of putting herself to sleep thereby. Her +soft brown hair was scattered on the sheet, her black lashes lay +motionless upon the olive cheeks. Laura wished to move her, that I +might see her the better. +</P> + +<P> +"You will wake her," exclaimed I, in alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"Wake this little dormouse?" Laura lightly answered. "Impossible." +</P> + +<P> +And, twining her arms about her, the young mother lifted the child from +the bed, three or four times in succession, while the healthy little +creature remained utterly undisturbed, breathing the same quiet breath. +I watched Laura with amazement; she seemed transformed. +</P> + +<P> +She gayly returned my eager look, and then, seeming suddenly to +penetrate its meaning, cast down her eyes, while the color mounted into +her cheeks. "You thought," she said, almost sternly, "that I did not +love my child." +</P> + +<P> +"No," I said half untruthfully. +</P> + +<P> +"I can hardly wonder," she continued, more sadly, "for it is only what +I have said to myself a thousand times. Sometimes I think that I have +lived in a dream, and one that few share with me. I have questioned +others, and never yet found a woman who did not admit that her child +was more to her, in her secret soul, than her husband. What can they +mean? Such a thought is foreign to my very nature." +</P> + +<P> +"Why separate the two?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I must separate them in thought," she answered, with the air of one +driven to bay by her own self-reproaching. "I had, like other young +girls, my dream of love and marriage. Unlike all the rest, I believe, I +found my visions fulfilled. The reality was more than the imagination; +and I thought it would be so with my love for my child. The first cry +of that baby told the difference to my ear. I knew it all from that +moment; the bliss which had been mine as a wife would never be mine as +a mother. If I had not known what it was to adore my husband, I might +have been content with my love for Marian. But look at that exquisite +creature as she lies there asleep, and then think that I, her mother, +should desert her if she were dying, for aught I know, at one word from +him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Your feeling does not seem natural," I said, hardly knowing what to +answer. +</P> + +<P> +"What good does it serve to know that?" she said, defiantly. "I say it +to myself every day. Once when she was ill, and was given back to me in +all the precious helplessness of babyhood, there was such a strange +sweetness in it, I thought the charm might remain; but it vanished when +she could run about once more. And she is such a healthy, self-reliant +little thing," added Laura, glancing toward the bed with a momentary +look of motherly pride that seemed strangely out of place amid these +self-denunciations. "I wish her to be so," she added. "The best service +I can do for her is to teach her to stand alone. And at some day," +continued the beautiful woman, her whole face lighting up with +happiness, "she may love as I have loved." +</P> + +<P> +"And your husband," I said, after a pause,—"does your feeling +represent his?" +</P> + +<P> +"My husband," she said, "lives for his genius, as he should. You that +know him, why do you ask?" +</P> + +<P> +"And his heart?" I said, half frightened at my own temerity. +</P> + +<P> +"Heart?" she answered. "He loves me." +</P> + +<P> +Her color mounted higher yet; she had a look of pride, almost of +haughtiness. All else seemed forgotten; she had turned away from the +child's little bed, as if it had no existence. It flashed upon me that +something of the poison of her artificial atmosphere was reaching her +already. +</P> + +<P> +Kenmure's step was heard in the hall, and, with fire in her eyes, she +hastened to meet him. I found myself actually breathing more freely +after the departure of that enchanting woman, in danger of perishing +inwardly, I said to myself, in an air too lavishly perfumed. Bending +over Marian, I wondered if it were indeed possible that a perfectly +healthy life had sprung from that union too intense and too absorbed. +Yet I had often noticed that the child seemed to wear the temperaments +of both her parents as a kind of playful disguise, and to peep at you, +now out of the one, now from the other, showing that she had her own +individual life behind. +</P> + +<P> +As if by some infantine instinct, the darling turned in her sleep, and +came unconsciously nearer me. With a half-feeling of self-reproach, I +drew around my neck, inch by inch, the little arms that tightened with +a delicious thrill; and so I half reclined there till I myself dozed, +and the watchful Janet, looking in, warned me away. Crossing the entry +to my own chamber, I heard Kenmure and Laura down stairs, but I knew +that I should be superfluous, and felt that I was sleepy. +</P> + +<P> +I had now, indeed, become always superfluous when they were together, +though never when they were apart. Even they must be separated +sometimes, and then each sought me, in order to discourse about the +other. Kenmure showed me every sketch he had ever made of Laura. There +she was, through all the range of her beauty,—there she was in clay, +in cameo, in pencil, in water-color, in oils. He showed me also his +poems, and, at last, a longer one, for which pencil and graver had +alike been laid aside. All these he kept in a great cabinet she had +brought with her to their housekeeping; and it seemed to me that he +also treasured every flower she had dropped, every slender glove she +had worn, every ribbon from her hair. I could not wonder, seeing his +passion as it was. Who would not thrill at the touch of some such +slight memorial of Mary of Scotland, or of Heloise? and what was all +the regal beauty of the past to him? He found every room adorned when +she was in it, empty when she had gone,—save that the trace of her was +still left on everything, and all appeared but as a garment she had +worn. It seemed that even her great mirror must retain, film over film, +each reflection of her least movement, the turning of her head, the +ungloving of her hand. Strange! that, with all this intoxicating +presence, she yet led a life so free from self, so simple, so absorbed, +that all trace of consciousness was excluded, and she was as free from +vanity as her own child. +</P> + +<P> +As we were once thus employed in the studio, I asked Kenmure, abruptly, +if he never shrank from the publicity he was thus giving Laura. "Madame +Recamier was not quite pleased," I said, "that Canova had modelled her +bust, even from imagination. Do you never shrink from permitting +irreverent eyes to look on Laura's beauty? Think of men as you know +them. Would you give each of them her miniature, perhaps to go with +them into scenes of riot and shame?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would to Heaven I could!" said he, passionately. "What else could save +them, if that did not? God lets his sun shine on the evil and on the +good, but the evil need it most." +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause; and then I ventured to ask him a question that had +been many times upon my lips unspoken. +</P> + +<P> +"Does it never occur to you," I said, "that Laura cannot live on earth +forever?" +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot disturb me about that," he answered, not sadly, but with a +set, stern look, as if fencing for the hundredth time against an +antagonist who was foredoomed to be his master in the end. "Laura will +outlive me; she must outlive me. I am so sure of it that, every time I +come near her, I pray that I may not be paralyzed, and die outside her +arms. Yet, in any event, what can I do but what I am doing,—devote my +whole soul to the perpetuation of her beauty? It is my only dream,—to +re-create her through art. What else is worth doing? It is for this I +have tried-through sculpture, through painting, through verse—to +depict her as she is. Thus far I have failed. Why have I failed? Is it +because I have not lived a life sufficiently absorbed in her? or is it +that there is no permitted way by which, after God has reclaimed her, +the tradition of her perfect loveliness may be retained on earth?" +</P> + +<P> +The blinds of the piazza doorway opened, the sweet sea-air came in, the +low and level rays of yellow sunset entered as softly as if the breeze +were their chariot; and softer and stiller and sweeter than light or +air, little Marian stood on the threshold. She had been in the fields +with Janet, who had woven for her breeze-blown hair a wreath of the +wild gerardia blossoms, whose purple beauty had reminded the good +Scotchwoman of her own native heather. In her arms the child bore, like +a little gleaner, a great sheaf of graceful golden-rod, as large as her +grasp could bear. In all the artist's visions he had seen nothing so +aerial, so lovely; in all his passionate portraitures of his idol, he +had delineated nothing so like to her. Marian's cheeks mantled with +rich and wine-like tints, her hair took a halo from the sunbeams, her +lips parted over the little, milk-white teeth; she looked at us with +her mother's eyes. I turned to Kenmure to see if he could resist the +influence. +</P> + +<P> +He scarcely gave her a glance. "Go, Marian," he said, not +impatiently,—for he was too thoroughly courteous ever to be +ungracious, even to a child,—but with a steady indifference that cut +me with more pain than if he had struck her. +</P> + +<P> +The sun dropped behind the horizon, the halo faded from the shining +hair and every ray of light from the childish face. There came in its +place that deep, wondering sadness which is more touching than any +maturer sorrow,—just as a child's illness melts our hearts more than +that of man or woman, it seems so premature and so plaintive. She +turned away; it was the very first time I had ever seen the little face +drawn down, or the tears gathering in the eyes. By some kind +providence, the mother, coming in flushed and beautiful with walking, +met Marian on the piazza, and caught the little thing in her arms with +unwonted tenderness. It was enough for the elastic child. After one +moment of such bliss she could go to Janet, go anywhere; and when the +same graceful presence came in to us in the studio, we also could ask +no more. +</P> + +<P> +We had music and moonlight, and were happy. The atmosphere seemed more +human, less unreal. Going up stairs at last, I looked in at the +nursery, and found my pet rather flushed, and I fancied that she +stirred uneasily. It passed, whatever it was; for next morning she came +in to wake me, looking, as usual, as if a new heaven and earth had been +coined purposely for her since she went to sleep. We had our usual long +and important discourse,—this time tending to protracted narrative, of +the Mother-Goose description,—until, if it had been possible for any +human being to be late for breakfast in that house, we should have been +the offenders. But she ultimately went downstairs on my shoulder, and, +as Kenmure and Laura were already out rowing, the baby put me in her +own place, sat in her mother's chair, and ruled me with a rod of iron. +How wonderful was the instinct by which this little creature, who so +seldom heard one word of parental severity or parental fondness, knew +so thoroughly the language of both! Had I been the most depraved of +children, or the most angelic, I could not have been more sternly +excluded from the sugar-bowl, or more overwhelmed with compensating +kisses. +</P> + +<P> +Later on that day, while little Marian was taking the very profoundest +nap that ever a baby was blessed with, (she had a pretty way of +dropping asleep in unexpected corners of the house, like a kitten,) I +somehow strayed into a confidential talk with Janet about her mistress. +I was rather troubled to find that all her loyalty was for Laura, with +nothing left for Kenmure, whom, indeed, she seemed to regard as a sort +of objectionable altar, on which her darlings were being sacrificed. +When she came to particulars, certain stray fears of my own were +confirmed. It seemed that Laura's constitution was not fit, Janet +averred, to bear these irregular hours, early and late; and she +plaintively dwelt on the untasted oatmeal in the morning, the +insufficient luncheon, the precarious dinner, the excessive walking and +boating, the evening damps. There was coming to be a look about Laura +such as her mother had, who died at thirty. As for Marian,—but here +the complaint suddenly stopped; it would have required far stronger +provocation to extract from the faithful soul one word that might seem +to reflect on Marian's mother. +</P> + +<P> +Another year, and her forebodings had come true. It is needless to +dwell on the interval. Since then I have sometimes felt a regret almost +insatiable in the thought that I should have been absent while all that +gracious loveliness was fading and dissolving like a cloud; and yet at +other times it has appeared a relief to think that Laura would ever +remain to me in the fulness of her beauty, not a tint faded, not a +lineament changed. With all my efforts, I arrived only in time to +accompany Kenmure home at night, after the funeral service. We paused +at the door of the empty house,—how empty! I hesitated, but Kenmure +motioned to me to follow him in. +</P> + +<P> +We passed through the hall and went up stairs. Janet met us at the head +of the stairway, and asked me if I would go in to look at little +Marian, who was sleeping. I begged Kenmure to go also but he refused, +almost savagely, and went on with heavy step into Laura's deserted room. +</P> + +<P> +Almost the moment I entered the child's chamber, she waked up suddenly, +looked at me, and said, "I know you, you are my friend." She never +would call me her cousin, I was always her friend. Then she sat up in +bed, with her eyes wide open, and said, as if stating a problem which +had been put by for my solution, "I should like to see my mother." +</P> + +<P> +How our hearts are rent by the unquestioning faith of children, when +they come to test the love that has so often worked what seemed to them +miracles,—and ask of it miracles indeed! I tried to explain to her the +continued existence of her mother, and she listened to it as if her +eyes drank in all that I could say, and more. But the apparent distance +between earth and heaven baffled her baby mind, as it so often and so +sadly baffles the thoughts of us elders. I wondered what precise change +seemed to her to have taken place. This all-fascinating Laura, whom she +adored, and who had yet never been to her what other women are to their +darlings,—did heaven seem to put her farther off, or bring her more +near? I could never know. The healthy child had no morbid questionings; +and as she had come into the world to be a sunbeam, she must not fail +of that mission. She was kicking about the bed, by this time, in her +nightgown, and holding her pink little toes in all sorts of difficult +attitudes, when she suddenly said, looking me full in the face: "If my +mother was so high up that she had her feet upon a star, do you think +that I could see her?" +</P> + +<P> +This astronomical apotheosis startled me for a moment, but I said +unhesitatingly, "Yes," feeling sure that the lustrous eyes that looked +in mine could certainly see as far as Dante's, when Beatrice was +transferred from his side to the highest realm of Paradise. I put my +head beside hers upon the pillow, and stayed till I thought she was +asleep. +</P> + +<P> +I then followed Kenmure into Laura's chamber. It was dusk, but the +after-sunset glow still bathed the room with imperfect light, and he +lay upon the bed, his hands clenched over his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +There was a deep bow-window where Laura used to sit and watch us, +sometimes, when we put off in the boat. Her aeolian harp was in the +casement, breaking its heart in music. A delicate handkerchief was +lodged between the cushions of the window-seat,—the very handkerchief +she used to wave, in summer days long gone. The white boats went +sailing beneath the evening light, children shouted and splashed in the +water, a song came from a yacht, a steam-whistle shrilled from the +receding steamer; but she for whom alone those little signs of life had +been dear and precious would henceforth be as invisible to our eyes as +if time and space had never held her; and the young moon and the +evening star seemed but empty things unless they could pilot us to some +world where the splendor of her loveliness could match their own. +</P> + +<P> +Twilight faded, evening darkened, and still Kenmure lay motionless, +until his strong form grew in my moody fancy to be like some carving of +Michel Angelo's, more than like a living man. And when he at last +startled me by speaking, it was with a voice so far off and so strange, +it might almost have come wandering down from the century when Michel +Angelo lived. +</P> + +<P> +"You are right," he said. "I have been living in a fruitless dream. It +has all vanished. The absurdity of speaking of creative art! With all +my life-long devotion, I have created nothing. I have kept no memorial +of her presence, nothing to perpetuate the most beautiful of lives." +</P> + +<P> +Before I could answer, the door came softly open, and there stood in +the doorway a small white figure, holding aloft a lighted taper of pure +alabaster. It was Marian in her little night-dress, with the loose blue +wrapper trailing behind her, let go in the effort to hold carefully the +doll, Susan Halliday, robed also for the night. +</P> + +<P> +"May I come in?" said the child. +</P> + +<P> +Kenmure was motionless at first: then, looking over his shoulder, said +merely, "What?" +</P> + +<P> +"Janet said," continued Marian, in her clear and methodical way, "that +my mother was up in heaven, and would help God hear my prayers at any +rate; but if I pleased, I could come and say them by you." +</P> + +<P> +A shudder passed over Kenmure; then he turned away, and put his hands +over his eyes. She waited for no answer, but, putting down the +candlestick, in her wonted careful manner, upon a chair, she began to +climb upon the bed, lifting laboriously one little rosy foot, then +another, still dragging after her, with great effort, the doll. +Nestling at her father's breast, I saw her kneel. +</P> + +<P> +"Once my mother put her arm round me, when I said my prayers." She made +this remark, under her breath, less as a suggestion, it seemed, than as +the simple statement of a fact. +</P> + +<P> +Instantly I saw Kenmure's arm move, and grasp her with that strong and +gentle touch of his which I had so often noticed in the studio,—a +touch that seemed quiet as the approach of fate, and equally +resistless. I knew him well enough to understand that iron adoption. +</P> + +<P> +He drew her toward him, her soft hair was on his breast, she looked +fearlessly into his eyes, and I could hear the little prayer +proceeding, yet in so low a whisper that I could not catch one word. +She was infinitely solemn at such times, the darling; and there was +always something in her low, clear tone, through all her prayings and +philosophizings, which was strangely like her mother's voice. Sometimes +she paused, as if to ask a question, and at every answer I could see +her father's arm tighten. +</P> + +<P> +The moments passed, the voices grew lower yet, the candle flickered and +went out, the doll slid to the ground. Marian had drifted away upon a +vaster ocean than that whose music lulled her from without,—upon that +sea whose waves are dreams. The night was wearing on, the lights +gleamed from the anchored vessels, the water rippled serenely against +the low sea-wall, the breeze blew gently in. Marian's baby breathing +grew deeper and more tranquil; and as all the sorrows of the weary +earth might be imagined to exhale themselves in spring through the +breath of violets, so I prayed that it might be with Kenmure's burdened +heart, through hers. By degrees the strong man's deeper respirations +mingled with those of the child, and their two separate beings seemed +merged and solved into identity, as they slumbered, breast to breast, +beneath the golden and quiet stars. I passed by without awaking them, +and I knew that the artist had attained his dream. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="wherry"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +IN A WHERRY. +</H2> + +<P> +We have a phrase in Oldport, "What New-Yorkers call poverty: to be +reduced to a pony phaeton." In consequence of a November gale, I am +reduced To a similar state of destitution, from a sail-boat to a +wherry; and, like others of the deserving poor, I have found many +compensations in my humbler condition. Which is the more enjoyable, +rowing or sailing? If you sail before the wind, there is the glorious +vigor of the breeze that fills your sails; you get all of it you have +room for, and a ship of the line could do no more; indeed, your very +nearness to the water increases the excitement, since the water swirls +and boils up, as it unites in your wake, and seems to clutch at the low +stern of your sail-boat, and to menace the hand that guides the helm. +Or if you beat to windward, it is as if your boat climbed a liquid +hill, but did it with bounding and dancing, like a child; there is the +plash of the lighter ripples against the bow, and the thud of the +heavier waves, while the same blue water is now transformed to a cool +jet of white foam over your face, and now to a dark whirlpool in your +lee. Sailing gives a sense of prompt command, since by a single +movement of the tiller you effect so great a change of direction or +transform motion into rest; there is, therefore, a certain magic in it: +but, on the other hand, there is in rowing a more direct appeal to your +physical powers; you do not evade or cajole the elements by a cunning +device of keel and canvas, you meet them man-fashion and subdue them. +The motion of the oars is like the strong motion of a bird's wings; to +sail a boat is to ride upon an eagle, but to row is to be an eagle. I +prefer rowing,—at least till I can afford another sail-boat. +</P> + +<P> +What is a good day for rowing? Almost any day that is good for living. +Living is not quite agreeable in the midst of a tornado or an +equinoctial storm, neither is rowing. There are days when rowing is as +toilsome and exhausting a process as is Bunyan's idea of virtue; while +there are other days, like the present, when it seems a mere Oriental +passiveness and the forsaking of works,—just an excuse to Nature for +being out among her busy things. For even at this stillest of hours +there is far less repose in Nature than we imagine. What created thing +can seem more patient than yonder kingfisher on the sea-wall? Yet, as +we glide near him, we shall see that no creature can be more full of +concentrated life; all his nervous system seems on edge, every instant +he is rising or lowering on his feet, the tail vibrates, the neck +protrudes or shrinks again, the feathers ruffle, the crest dilates; he +talks to himself with an impatient chirr, then presently hovers and +dives for a fish, then flies back disappointed. We say "free as birds," +but their lives are given over to arduous labors. And so, when our +condition seems most dreamy, our observing faculties are sometimes +desperately on the alert, and we find afterwards, to our surprise, that +we have missed nothing. The best observer in the end is not he who +works at the microscope or telescope most unceasingly, but he whose +whole nature becomes sensitive and receptive, drinking in everything, +like a sponge that saturates itself with all floating vapors and odors, +though it seems inert and unsuspicious until you press it and it tells +the tale. +</P> + +<P> +Most men do their work out of doors and their dreaming at home; and +those whose work is done at home need something like a wherry in which +to dream out of doors. On a squally day, with the wind northwest, it is +a dream of action, and to round yonder point against an ebbing tide +makes you feel as if you were Grant before Richmond; when you put +about, you gallop like Sheridan, and the winds and waves become a +cavalry escort. On other days all elements are hushed into a dream of +peace, and you look out upon those once stormy distances as Landseer's +sheep look into the mouth of the empty cannon on a dismantled fort. +These are the days for revery, and your thoughts fly forth, gliding +without friction over this smooth expanse; or, rather, they are like +yonder pair of white butterflies that will flutter for an hour just +above the glassy surface, traversing miles of distance before they +alight again. +</P> + +<P> +By a happy trait of our midsummer, these various phases of wind and +water may often be included in a single day. On three mornings out of +four the wind blows northwest down our bay, then dies to a calm before +noon. After an hour or two of perfect stillness, you see the line of +blue ripple coming up from the ocean till it conquers all the paler +water, and the southwest breeze sets in. This middle zone of calm is +like the noonday of the Romans, when they feared to speak, lest the +great god Pan should be awakened. While it lasts, a thin, aerial veil +drops over the distant hills of Conanicut, then draws nearer and nearer +till it seems to touch your boat, the very nearest section of space +being filled with a faint disembodied blueness, like that which fills +on winter days, in colder regions, the hollows of the snow. Sky and sea +show but gradations of the same color, and afford but modifications of +the same element. In this quietness, yonder schooner seems not so much +to lie at anchor in the water as to anchor the water, so that both +cease to move; and though faint ripples may come and go elsewhere on +the surface, the vessel rests in this liquid island of absolute calm. +For there certainly is elsewhere a sort of motionless movement, as +Keats speaks of "a little noiseless noise among the leaves," or as the +summer clouds form and disappear without apparent wind and without +prejudice to the stillness. A man may lie in the profoundest trance and +still be breathing, and the very pulsations of the life of nature, in +these calm hours, are to be read in these changing tints and shadows +and ripples, and in the mirage-bewildered outlines of the islands in +the bay. It is this incessant shifting of relations, this perpetual +substitution of fantastic for real values, this inability to trust your +own eye or ear unless the mind makes its own corrections,—that gives +such an inexhaustible attraction to life beside the ocean. The +sea-change comes to you without your waiting to be drowned. You must +recognize the working of your own imagination and allow for it. When, +for instance, the sea-fog settles down around us at nightfall, it +sometimes grows denser and denser till it apparently becomes more solid +than the pavements of the town, or than the great globe itself; and +when the fog-whistles go wailing on through all the darkened hours, +they seem to be signalling not so much for a lost ship as for a lost +island. +</P> + +<P> +How unlike are those weird and gloomy nights to this sunny noon, when I +rest my oars in this sheltered bay, where a small lagoon makes in +behind Coaster's Harbor Island, and the very last breath and murmur of +the ocean are left outside! The coming tide steals to the shore in +waves so light they are a mere shade upon the surface till they break, +and then die speechless for one that has a voice. And even those rare +voices are the very most confidential and silvery whispers in which +Nature ever spoke to man; the faintest summer insect seems resolute and +assured beside them; and yet it needs but an indefinite multiplication +of these sounds to make up the thunder of the surf. It is so still that +I can let the wherry drift idly along the shore, and can watch the life +beneath the water. The small fry cluster and evade between me and the +brink; the half-translucent shrimp glides gracefully undisturbed, or +glances away like a flash if you but touch the surface; the crabs +waddle or burrow, the smaller species mimicking unconsciously the hue +of the soft green sea-weed, and the larger looking like motionless +stones, covered with barnacles and decked with fringing weeds. I am +acquainted with no better Darwinian than the crab; and however clumsy +he may be when taken from his own element, he has a free and floating +motion which is almost graceful in his own yielding and buoyant home. +It is so with all wild creatures, but especially with those of water +and air. A gull is not reckoned an especially graceful bird, but yonder +I see one, snowy white, that has come to fish in this safe lagoon, and +it dips and rises on its errands as lightly as a butterfly or a +swallow. Beneath that neighboring causeway the water-rats run over the +stones, lithe and eager and alert, the body carried low, the head +raised now and then like a hound's, the tail curving gracefully and +aiding the poise; now they are running to the water as if to drink, now +racing for dear life along the edge, now fairly swimming, then devoting +an interval to reflection, like squirrels, then again searching over a +pile of sea-weed and selecting some especial tuft, which is carried, +with long, sinuous leaps, to the unseen nest. Indeed, man himself is +graceful in his unconscious and direct employments: the poise of a +fisherman, for instance, the play of his arm, the cast of his line or +net,—these take the eye as do the stealthy movements of the hunter, +the fine attitudes of the wood-chopper, the grasp of the sailor on the +helm. A haystack and a boat are always picturesque objects, and so are +the men who are at work to build or use them. So is yonder stake-net, +glistening in the noonday light,—the innumerable meshes drooping in +soft arches from the high stakes, and the line of floats stretching +shoreward, like tiny stepping-stones; two or three row-boats are +gathered round it, with fishermen in red or blue shirts, while one +white sail-boat hovers near. And I have looked down on our beach in +spring, at sunset, and watched them drawing nets for the young herring, +when the rough men looked as graceful as the nets they drew, and the +horseman who directed might have been Redgauntlet on the Solway Sands. +</P> + +<P> +I suppose it is from this look of natural fitness that a windmill is +always such an appropriate object by the sea-shore. It is simply a +four-masted schooner, stranded on a hill-top, and adapting itself to a +new sphere of duty. It can have needed but a slight stretch of +invention in some seaman to combine these lofty vans, and throw over +them a few remodelled sails. The principle of their motion is that by +which a vessel beats to windward; the miller spreads or reefs his +sails, like a sailor,—reducing them in a high wind to a mere +"pigeon-wing" as it is called, two or three feet in length, or in some +cases even scudding under bare poles. The whole structure vibrates and +creaks under rapid motion, like a mast; and the angry vans, +disappointed of progress, are ready to grind to powder all that comes +within their grasp, as they revolve hopelessly in this sea of air. +</P> + +<P> +When the sun grows hot, I like to take refuge in a sheltered nook +beside Goat Island Lighthouse, where the wharf shades me, and the +resonant plash of waters multiplies itself among the dark piles, +increasing the delicious sense of coolness. While the noonday bells +ring twelve, I take my rest. Round the corner of the pier the +fishing-boats come gliding in, generally with a boy asleep forward, and +a weary man at the helm; one can almost fancy that the boat itself +looks weary, having been out since the early summer sunrise. In +contrast to this expression of labor ended, the white pleasure-boats +seem but to be taking a careless stroll by water; while a skiff full of +girls drifts idly along the shore, amid laughter and screaming and much +aimless splash. More resolute and business-like, the boys row their +boat far up the bay; then I see a sudden gleam of white bodies, and +then the boat is empty, and the surrounding water is sprinkled with +black and bobbing heads. The steamboats look busier yet, as they go +puffing by at short intervals, and send long waves up to my retreat; +and then some schooner sails in, full of life, with a white ripple +round her bows, till she suddenly rounds to drops anchor, and is still. +Opposite me, on the landward side of the bay, the green banks slope to +the water; on yonder cool piazza there is a young mother who swings her +baby in the hammock, or a white-robed figure pacing beneath the +trailing vines. Peace and lotus-eating on shore; on the water, even in +the stillest noon, there are life and sparkle and continual change. +</P> + +<P> +One of those fishermen whose boats have just glided to their moorings +is to me a far more interesting person than any of his mates, though he +is perhaps the only one among them with whom I have never yet exchanged +a word. There is good reason for it; he has been deaf and dumb since +boyhood. He is reported to be the boldest sailor among all these daring +men; he is the last to retreat before the coming storm; the first after +the storm to venture through the white and whirling channels, between +dangerous ledges, to which others give a wider berth. I do not wonder +at this, for think how much of the awe and terror of the tempest must +vanish if the ears be closed! The ominous undertone of the waves on the +beach and the muttering thunder pass harmless by him. How infinitely +strange it must be to have the sight of danger, but not the sound! +Fancy such a deprivation in war, for instance, where it is the sounds, +after all, that haunt the memory the longest; the rifle's crack, the +irregular shots of skirmishers, the long roll of alarm, the roar of +great guns. This man would have missed them all. Were a broadside from +an enemy's gunboat to be discharged above his head, he would not hear +it; he would only recognize, by some jarring of his other senses, the +fierce concussion of the air. +</P> + +<P> +How much deeper seems his solitude than that of any other "lone fisher +on the lonely sea"! Yet all such things are comparative; and while the +others contrast that wave-tossed isolation with the cheeriness of home, +his home is silent too. He has a wife and children; they all speak, but +he hears not their prattle or their complaints. He summons them with +his fingers, as he summons the fishes, and they are equally dumb to +him. Has he a special sympathy with those submerged and voiceless +things? Dunfish, in the old newspapers, were often called "dumb'd +fish"; and they perchance come to him as to one of their kindred. They +may have learned, like other innocent things, to accept this defect of +utterance, and even imitate it. I knew a deaf-and-dumb woman whose +children spoke and heard; but while yet too young for words, they had +learned that their mother was not to be reached in that way; they never +cried or complained before her, and when most excited would only +whisper. Her baby ten months old, if disturbed in the night, would +creep to her and touch her lips, to awaken her, but would make no noise. +</P> + +<P> +One might fancy that all men who have an agonizing sorrow or a fearful +secret would be drawn by irresistible attraction into the society of +the deaf and dumb. What awful passions might not be whispered, what +terror safely spoken, in the charmed circle round yonder silent +boat,—a circle whose centre is a human life which has not all the +susceptibilities of life, a confessional where even the priest cannot +hear! Would it not relieve sorrow to express itself, even if unheeded? +What more could one ask than a dumb confidant? and if deaf also, so +much the safer. To be sure, he would give you neither absolution nor +guidance; he could render nothing in return, save a look or a clasp of +the hand; nor can the most gifted or eloquent friendship do much more. +Ah! but suddenly the thought occurs, suppose that the defect of +hearing, as of tongue, were liable to be loosed by an overmastering +emotion, and that by startling him with your hoarded confidence you +were to break the spell! The hint is too perilous; let us row away. +</P> + +<P> +A few strokes take us to the half-submerged wreck of a lime-schooner +that was cut to the water's edge, by a collision in a gale, twelve +months ago. The water kindled the lime, the cable was cut, the vessel +drifted ashore and sunk, still blazing, at this little beach. When I +saw her, at sunset, the masts had been cut away, and the flames held +possession on board. Fire was working away in the cabin, like a live +thing, and sometimes glared out of the hatchway; anon it clambered +along the gunwale, like a school-boy playing, and the waves chased it +as in play; just a flicker of flame, then a wave would reach up to +overtake it; then the flames would be, or seem to be, where the water +had been; and finally, as the vessel lay careened, the waves took +undisturbed possession of the lower gunwale, and the flames of the +upper. So it burned that day and night; part red with fire, part black +with soaking; and now twelve months have made all its visible parts +look dry and white, till it is hard to believe that either fire or +water has ever touched it. It lies over on its bare knees, and a single +knee, torn from the others, rests imploringly on the shore, as if that +had worked its way to land, and perished in act of thanksgiving. At low +tide, one half the frame is lifted high in air, like a dead tree in the +forest. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps all other elements are tenderer in their dealings with what is +intrusted to them than is the air. Fire, at least, destroys what it has +ruined; earth is warm and loving, and it moreover conceals; water is at +least caressing,—it laps the greater part of this wreck with +protecting waves, covers with sea-weeds all that it can reach, and +protects with incrusting shells. Even beyond its grasp it tosses soft +pendants of moss that twine like vine-tendrils, or sway in the wind. It +mellows harsh colors into beauty, and Ruskin grows eloquent over the +wave-washed tint of some tarry, weather-beaten boat. But air is +pitiless: it dries and stiffens all outline, and bleaches all color +away, so that you can hardly tell whether these ribs belonged to a ship +or an elephant; and yet there is a certain cold purity in the shapes it +leaves, and the birds it sends to perch upon these timbers are a more +graceful company than lobsters or fishes. After all, there is something +sublime in that sepulture of the Parsees, who erect near every village +a dokhma, or Tower of Silence, upon whose summit they may bury their +dead in air. +</P> + +<P> +Thus widely may one's thoughts wander from a summer boat. But the +season for rowing is a long one, and far outlasts in Oldport the stay +of our annual guests. Sometimes in autumnal mornings I glide forth over +water so still, it seems as if saturated by the Indian-summer with its +own indefinable calm. The distant islands lift themselves on white +pedestals of mirage; the cloud-shadows rest softly on Conanicut; and +what seems a similar shadow on the nearer slopes of Fort Adams is in +truth but a mounted battery, drilling, which soon moves and slides +across the hazy hill like a cloud. +</P> + +<P> +I hear across nearly a mile of water the faint, Sharp orders and the +sonorous blare of the trumpet That follows each command; the horsemen +gallop and wheel; suddenly the band within the fort strikes up for +guard-mounting, and I have but to shut my eyes to be carried back to +warlike days that passed by,—was it centuries ago? Meantime, I float +gradually towards Brenton's Cove; the lawns that reach to the water's +edge were never so gorgeously green in any summer, and the departure of +the transient guests gives to these lovely places an air of cool +seclusion; when fashion quits them, the imagination is ready to move +in. An agreeable sense of universal ownership comes over the +winter-staying mind in Oldport. I like to keep up this little semblance +of habitation on the part of our human birds of passage; it is very +pleasant to me, and perhaps even pleasanter to them, that they should +call these emerald slopes their own for a month or two; but when they +lock the doors in autumn, the ideal key reverts into my hands, and it +is evident that they have only been "tenants by the courtesy," in the +fine legal phrase. Provided they stay here long enough to attend to +their lawns and pay their taxes, I am better satisfied than if these +estates were left to me the whole year round. +</P> + +<P> +The tide takes the boat nearer to the fort; the horsemen ride more +conspicuously, with swords and trappings that glisten in the sunlight, +while the white fetlocks of the horses twinkle in unison as they move. +One troop-horse without a rider wheels and gallops with the rest, and +seems to revel in the free motion. Here also the tide reaches or seems +to reach the very edge of the turf; and when the light battery gallops +this way, it is as if it were charging on my floating fortress. Upon +the other side is a scene of peace; and a fisherman sings in his boat +as he examines the floats of his stake-net, hand over hand. A white +gull hovers close above him, and a dark one above the horsemen, fit +emblems of peace and war. The slightest sounds, the rattle of an oar, +the striking of a hoof against a stone, are borne over the water to an +amazing distance, as if the calm bay amid its seeming quiet, were +watchful of the slightest noise. But look! in a moment the surface is +rippled, the sky is clouded, a swift change comes over the fitful mood +of the season; the water looks colder and deeper, the greensward +assumes a chilly darkness, the troopers gallop away to their stables, +and the fisherman rows home. That indefinable expression which +separates autumn from summer creeps almost in an instant over all. +Soon, even upon this Isle of Peace, it will be winter. +</P> + +<P> +Each season, as winter returns, I try in vain to comprehend this +wonderful shifting of expression that touches even a thing so +essentially unchanging as the sea. How delicious to all the senses is +the summer foam above yonder rock; in winter the foam is the same, the +sparkle as radiant, the hue of the water scarcely altered; and yet the +effect is, by comparison, cold, heavy, and leaden. It is like that +mysterious variation which chiefly makes the difference between one +human face and another; we call it by vague names, and cannot tell in +what it lies; we only know that when expression changes, all is gone. +No warmth of color, no perfection of outline can supersede those +subtile influences which make one face so winning that all human +affection gravitates to its spell, and another so cold or repellent +that it dwells forever in loneliness, and no passionate heart draws +near. I can fancy the ocean beating in vague despair against its shores +in winter, and moaning, "I am as beautiful, as restless, as untamable +as ever: why are my cliffs left desolate? why am I not loved as I was +loved in summer?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="delia"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS. +</H2> + +<P> +Madam Delia sat at the door of her show-tent, which, as she discovered +too late, had been pitched on the wrong side of the Parade. It was +"Election day" in Oldport, and there must have been a thousand people +in the public square; there were really more than the four policemen on +duty could properly attend to, so that half of them had leisure to step +into Madam Delia's tent, and see little Gerty and the rattlesnakes. It +was past the appointed hour; but the exhibition had never yet been +known to open for less than ten spectators, and even the addition of +the policemen only made eight. So the mistress of the show sat in +resolute expectation, a little defiant of the human race. It was her +thirteenth annual tour, and she knew mankind. +</P> + +<P> +Surely there were people enough; surely they had money enough; surely +they were easily pleased. They gathered in crowds to hear crazy Mrs. +Green denouncing the city government for sending her to the poorhouse +in a wagon instead of a carriage. They thronged to inspect the load of +hay that was drawn by the two horses whose harness had been cut to +pieces, and then repaired by Denison's Eureka Cement. They all bought +whips with that unfailing readiness which marks a rural crowd; they +bought packages of lead-pencils with a dollar so skilfully distributed +through every six parcels that the oldest purchaser had never found +more than ten cents in his. They let the man who cured neuralgia rub +his magic curative on their foreheads, and allowed the man who cleaned +watch-chains to dip theirs in the purifying powder. They twirled the +magic arrow, which never by any chance rested at the corner +compartments where the gold watches and the heavy bracelets were piled, +but perpetually recurred to the side stations, and indicated only a +beggarly prize of india-rubber sleeve-buttons. They bought ten cents' +worth of jewelry, obtaining a mingled treasure of two breast-pins, a +plain gold ring, an enamelled ring, and "a piece of California gold." +But still no added prizes in the human lottery fell to the show-tent of +Madam Delia. +</P> + +<P> +As time went on and the day grew warmer, the crowd grew visibly less +enterprising, and business flagged. The man with the lifting-machine +pulled at the handles himself, a gratuitous exhibition before a circle +of boys now penniless. The man with the metallic polish dipped and +redipped his own watch-chain. The men at the booths sat down to lunch +upon the least presentable of their own pies. The proprietor of the +magic arrow, who had already two large breastpins on his dirty shirt, +selected from his own board another to grace his coat-collar, as if +thereby to summon back the waning fortunes of the day. But Madam Delia +still sat at her post, undaunted. She kept her eye on two sauntering +militia-men in uniform, but they only read her sign and seated +themselves on the curbstone, to smoke. Then a stout black soldier came +in sight; but he turned and sat down at a table to eat oysters, served +by a vast and smiling matron of his own race. But even this, though +perhaps the most wholly cheerful exhibition that the day yielded, had +no charms for Madam Delia. Her own dinner was ordered at the tavern +after the morning show; and where is the human being who does not +resent the spectacle of another human being who dines earlier than +himself? +</P> + +<P> +It grew warmer, so warm that the canvas walls of the tent seemed to +grasp a certain armful of heat and keep it inexorably in; so warm that +the out-of-door man was dozing as he leaned against the tent-stake, and +only recovered himself at the sound of Madam Delia's penetrating voice, +and again began to summon people in, though there was nobody within +hearing. It was so warm that Mr. De Marsan, born Bangs, the wedded +husband of Madam Delia, dozed as he walked up and down the sidewalk, +and had hardly voice enough to testify, as an unconcerned spectator, to +the value of the show. Only the unwearied zeal of the showwoman defied +alike thermometer and neglect, She kept her eye on everything,—on Old +Bill as he fed the monkeys within, on Monsieur Comstock as he hung the +trapeze for the performance, on the little girls as they tried to +peddle their songs, on the sleepy out-of-door man, and on the people +who did not draw near. If she could, she would have played all the +parts in her own small company, and would have put the inexhaustible +nervous energies of her own New England nature (she was born at +Meddibemps, State of Maine) into all. Apart from this potent stimulus, +not a soul in the establishment, save little Gerty, possessed any +energy whatever. Old Bill had unfortunately never learned total +abstinence from the wild animals among which he had passed his life; +Monsieur Comstock's brains had chiefly run into his arms and legs; and +Mr. De Marsan, the nominal head of the establishment, was a peaceful +Pennsylvanian, who was wont to move as slowly as if he were one of +those processions that take a certain number of hours to pass a given +point. This Madam Delia understood and expected; he was an innocent who +was to be fed, clothed, and directed; but his languor was no excuse for +the manifest feebleness of the out-of-door man. "That man don't know +how to talk no more 'n nothin' at all," said Madam Delia reproachfully, +to the large policeman who stood by her. "He never speaks up bold to +nobody. Why don't he tell 'em what's inside the tent? I don't want him +to say no more 'n the truth, but he might tell that. Tell 'em about +Gerty, you nincum! Tell 'em about the snakes. Tell 'em what Comstock +is. 'T ain't the real original Comstock" (this to the policeman), "it's +only another that used to perform with him in Comstock Brothers. This +one can't swaller, so we leave out the knives." +</P> + +<P> +"Where's t' other?" said the sententious policeman, whose ears were +always open for suspicious disappearances. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you hear?" cried the incredulous lady. "Scattered! Gone! Went +off one day with a box of snakes and two monkeys. Come, now, you must +have heard. We had a sight of trouble pay-in' detectives." +</P> + +<P> +"What for a looking fellow was he?" said the policeman. +</P> + +<P> +"Dark complected," was the reply. "Black mustache. He understood his +business, I tell you now. Swallered five or six knives to onst, and +give good satisfaction to any audience. It was him that brought us +Gerty and Anne,—that's the other little girl. I didn't know as they +was his children, and didn't know as they was, but one day he said he +got 'em from an old woman in New York, and that was all he knew." +</P> + +<P> +"They're smart," said the man, whom Gerty had just coaxed into paying +three cents instead of two for Number Six of the "Singer's Journal,"—a +dingy little sheet, containing a song about a fat policeman, which she +had brought to his notice. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better believe it," said Madam Delia, proudly. "At least Gerty +is; Anne ain't. I tell 'em, Gerty knows enough for both. Anne don't +know nothin', and what she does know she don't know sartin. All she can +do is just to hang on: she's the strongest and she does the heavy +business on the trapeze and parallel bars." +</P> + +<P> +"Is Gerty good on that?" said the public guardian. +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you," said the head of the establishment.—"Go and dress, +children! Five minutes!" +</P> + +<P> +All this time Madam Delia had been taking occasional fees from the +tardy audience, had been making change, detecting counterfeit currency, +and discerning at a glance the impostures of one deceitful boy who +claimed to have gone out on a check and lost it. At last Stephen Blake +and his little sister entered, and the house was regarded as full. +These two revellers had drained deep the cup of "Election-day" +excitement. They had twirled all the arrows, bought all the jewelry, +inspected all the colored eggs, blown at all the spirometers, and +tasted all the egg-pop which the festal day required. These delights +exhausted, they looked round for other worlds to conquer, saw Madam +Delia at her tent-door, and were conquered by her. +</P> + +<P> +She did, indeed, look energetic and comely as she sat at the receipt of +custom, her smooth black hair relieved by gold ear-rings, her cotton +velvet sack by a white collar, and her dark gingham dress by a cheap +breastpin and by linen cuffs not very much soiled. The black leather +bag at her side had a well-to-do look; but all else in the +establishment looked a little poverty-stricken. The tent was made of +very worn and soiled canvas, and was but some twenty-five feet square. +There were no seats, and the spectators sat on the grass. There was a +very small stage raised some six feet; this was covered with some +strips of old carpet, and surrounded by a few old and tattered +curtains. Through their holes you could easily see the lithe brown +shoulders of the little girls as they put on their professional suits; +and, on the other side, Monsieur Comstock, scarcely hidden by the +drapery, leaned against a cross-bar, and rested his chin upon his +tattooed arms as he counted the spectators. Among these, Mr. De Marsan, +pacing slowly, distributed copies of this programme:— +</P> + +<PRE> + THIRTEENTH ANNUAL TOUR. + ---- + MADAM DELIA'S MUSEUM AND VARIETY COMBINATION-WILL EXHIBIT. + ---- + PROCLAMATION TO THE PUBLIC.—The Proprietors would say that + they have abandoned the old and played-out practice of decorating + the outer walls of all principal streets with flaming Posters and + Handbills, and have adopted the congenial, and they trust + successful, plan of advertising with Programmes, giving a full + and accurate description as now organized, which will be + distributed in Hotels, Saloons, Factories, Workshops, and all + private dwellings, by their Special Agents, three days before the + exhibition takes place. + ---- + MADAM DELIA WITH HER + PET SNAKES. + MISS GERTY, + THE CHILD WONDER, + DANSEUSE AND CONTORTIONIST, + + will appear in her wonderful feats at each performance. + + MONS. COMSTOCK, + THE CHAMPION SWORD-SWALLOWER, + + will also exhibit his wonderful power of swallowing Five Swords, + measuring from 14 to 22 inches in length. + + It is not so much the beauty of this feat + that makes it so remarkable, + as its seeming + impossibility. + ---- + MASTER BOBBY, + THE BANJO SOLOIST AND BURLESQUE. + ---- + COMIC ACROBAT, + BY MISS GERTY AND MONS. COMSTOCK. + ---- + MADAM DELIA, + THE WONDERFUL AND ORIGINAL SNAKE-TAMER, + with her Pets, measuring + 12 feet in length and weighing 50 lbs. + A pet Rattlesnake, 15 years of age, captured + on the Prairies of Illinois,— + oldest on exhibition. + ---- + In connection with this Exhibition there are + ANT-EATERS, AFRICAN MONKEYS, &C. + Cosmoramic Stereoscopic Scenes in the United States and + other Countries, including a view of + the Funeral Procession of President Taylor, + which is alone worth the price + of admission. + ---- + Exhibition every half-hour, during day and evening. + Secure your seats early! + ---- + ADMISSION 20 CENTS. + Particular care will be taken and + nothing shall occur to offend the most fastidious. +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P> +Stephen and his little sister strolled about the tent meanwhile. The +final preparations went slowly on. The few spectators teased the +ant-eater in one corner, or the first violin in another. One or two +young farmers' boys were a little uproarious with egg-pop, and danced +awkward breakdowns at the end of the tent. Then a cracked bell sounded +and the curtain rose, showing hardly more of the stage than was plainly +visible before. +</P> + +<P> +Little Gerty, aged ten, came in first, all rumpled gauze and tarnished +spangles, to sing. In a poor little voice, feebler and shriller than +the chattering of the monkeys, she sang a song about the "Grecian +Bend," and enacted the same, walking round and round the stage whirling +her tawdry finery. Then Anne, aged twelve, came in as a boy and joined +her. Both the girls had rather pretty features, blue eyes, and tightly +curling hair; both had pleasing faces; but Anne was solid and +phlegmatic, while Gerty was keen and flexible as a weasel, and almost +as thin. Presently Anne went out and reappeared as "Master Bobby" of +the hills, making love to Gerty in that capacity, through song and +dance. Then Gerty was transformed by the addition of a single scarf +into a "Highland Maid," and danced a fling; this quite gracefully, to +the music of two violins. Exeunt the children and enter "Madam Delia +and her pets." +</P> + +<P> +The show-woman had laid aside her velvet sack and appeared with bare +neck and arms. Over her shoulders hung a rattlesnake fifteen feet long, +while a smaller specimen curled from each hand. The reptiles put their +cold, triangular faces against hers, they touched her lips, they +squirmed around her; she tied their tails together in elastic knots +that soon undid; they reared their heads above her black locks till she +looked like a stage Medusa, then laid themselves lovingly on her +shoulder, and hissed at the audience. Then she lay down on the stage +and pillowed her head on the writhing mass. She opened her black bag +and took out a tiny brown snake which she placidly transferred to her +bosom; then turned to a barrel into which she plunged her arm and drew +out a black, hissing coil of mingled heads and tails. Her keen, +goodnatured face looked cheerfully at the audience through it all, and +took away the feeling of disgust, and something of the excitement of +fear. +</P> + +<P> +The lady and the pets retiring, Gerty's hour of glory came. She hated +singing and only half enjoyed character dancing, but in posturing she +was in her glory. Dressed in soiled tights that showed every movement +of her little body, she threw herself upon the stage with a +hand-spring, then kissed her hand to the audience, and followed this by +a back-somerset. Then she touched her head by anslow effort to her +heels; then turned away, put her palms to the ground, raised her heels +gradually in the air, and in this inverted position kissed first one +hand, then the other, to the spectators. Then she crossed the stage in +a series of somersets, then rolled back like a wheel; then held a hoop +in her two hands and put her whole slender body through it, limb after +limb. Then appeared Monsieur Comstock. He threw a hand-spring and gave +her his feet to stand upon; she grasped them with her hands and +inverted herself, her feet pointing skyward. Then he resumed the +ordinary attitude of rational beings and she lay on her back across his +uplifted palms, which supported her neck and feet; then she curled +herself backward around his waist, almost touching head and heels. +Indeed, whatever the snakes had done to Madam Delia, Gerty seemed +possessed with a wish to do to Monsieur Comstock, all but the kissing. +Then that eminent foreigner vanished, and the odors of his pipe came +faintly through the tattered curtain, while Anne entered to help Gerty +in the higher branches. +</P> + +<P> +A double trapeze—just two horizontal bars suspended at different +heights by ropes and straps—had been swung from the tent-roof. Gerty +ascended to the upper bar, hung from it by her hand, then by her knees, +then by her feet, then sat upon it, leaned slowly backward, suddenly +dropped, and as some children in the audience shrieked in terror, she +caught by her feet in the side-ropes and came up smiling. It was a part +of the play. Then another trapeze was hung, and was set swinging toward +the first, and Gerty flung herself in triumph, with varied somersets, +from one to the other, while Anne rattled the banjo below and sang, +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I fly through the air with the greatest of ease,<BR> + A daring young man on the flying trapeeze."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Then the child stopped to rest, while all hands were clapped and only +the unreverberating turf kept the feet from echoing also. People +flocked in from outside, and Madam Delia was kept busy at the door. +Then Gerty came down to the lower bar, while Anne ascended the upper, +and hung to it solidly by her knees. Thus suspended, she put out her +hands to Gerty, who put her feet into them, and hung head-downward. +There was a shuddering pause, while the two children clung thus +dizzily, but the audience had seen enough of peril to lose all fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Those straps are safe?" asked Stephen of Mr. De Marsan. +</P> + +<P> +"Law bless you, yes," replied that pleasant functionary. "Comstock's +been on 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Precisely as he spoke one of the straps gave downward a little, and +then rested firm; it was not a half-inch, but it jarred the performers. +</P> + +<P> +"Gerty, I'm slipping," cried Anne. "We shall fall!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, we sha'n't, silly," said the other, quickly. "Hold on. Comstock, +swing me the rope." +</P> + +<P> +Stephen Blake sprang to the stage and swung her the rope by which they +had climbed to the upper bar. It fell short and Gerty missed it. Anne +screamed, and slipped visibly. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't hold," said Gerty. "Let go my feet. Let me drop." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be killed," called Anne, slipping still more. +</P> + +<P> +"Drop me, I say!" shouted the resolute Gerty, while the whole audience +rose in excitement. Instantly the hands of the elder girl opened and +down fell Gerty, headforemost, full twelve feet, striking heavily on +her shoulder, while Anne, relieved of the weight, recovered easily her +position and slipped down into Stephen's arms. She threw herself down +beside the little comrade whose presence of mind had saved at least one +of them. +</P> + +<P> +"O Gerty, are you killed?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I want Delia," gasped the child. +</P> + +<P> +Madam Delia was at her side already, having rushed from the door, where +a surging host of boys had already swept in gratis. Gerty writhed in +pain. Stephen felt her collar-bone and found it bent like a horseshoe; +and she fainted before she could be taken from the stage. +</P> + +<P> +When restored, she was quite exhausted, and lay for days perfectly +subdued and gentle, sleeping most of the time. During these days she +had many visitors, and Mr. De Marsan had ample opportunity for the +simple enjoyments of his life, tobacco and conversation. Stephen Blake +and his sister came often, and while she brought her small treasures to +amuse Gerty, he freely pumped the proprietor. Madam Delia had been in +the snake business, it appeared, since early youth, thirteen years ago. +She had been in De Marsan's employ for eight years before her marriage, +and his equal and lawful partner for five years since. At first they +had travelled as side-show to a circus, but that was not so good. +</P> + +<P> +"The way is, you see," said Mr. De Marsan, "to take a place like +Providence, that's a good showtown, right along, and pitch your tent +and live there. Keep-still pays, they say. You'd have to hire a piece +of ground anywhere, for five or six dollars a day, and it don't cost +much more by the week. You can board for four or five dollars a week, +but if you board by the day it's a dollar and a half." To which words +of practical wisdom Stephen listened with pleased interest. It was not +so very many years since he had been young enough to wish to run away +with a circus; and by encouraging these simple confidences, he brought +round the conversation to the children. +</P> + +<P> +But here he was met by a sheer absence of all information as to their +antecedents. The original and deceitful Comstock had brought them and +left them two years before. Madam Delia had received flattering offers +to take her snakes and Gerty into circuses and large museums, but she +had refused for the child's own sake. Did Gerty like it? Yes, she would +like to be posturing all day; she could do anything she saw done; she +"never needed to be taught nothin'," as Mr. De Marsan asserted with +vigorous accumulation of negatives. He thought her father or mother +must have been in the business, she took to it so easily; but she was +just as smart at school in the winter, and at everything else. Was the +life good for her? Yes, why not? Rough company and bad language? They +could hear worse talk every day in the street. "Sometimes a feller +would come in with too much liquor aboard," the showman admitted, "and +would begin to talk his nonsense; but Comstock wouldn't ask nothin' +better than to pitch such a feller out, especially if he should sarce +the little gals. They were good little gals, and Delia set store by +'em." +</P> + +<P> +When Stephen and his sister went back that night to their kind +hostesses, Miss Martha and Miss Amy, the soft hearts of those dear old +ladies were melted in an instant by the story of Gerty's courage and +self-sacrifice. They had lived peacefully all their lives in that +motherly old house by the bay-side, where successive generations had +lived before them. The painted tiles around the open fire looked as if +their fops and fine ladies had stepped out of the Spectator and the +Tatler; the great mahogany chairs looked as hospitable as when the +French officers were quartered in the house during the Revolution, and +its Quaker owner, Miss Martha's grand-uncle, had carried out a seat +that the weary sentinel might sit down. Descended from one of those +families of Quaker beauties whom De Lauzun celebrated, they bore the +memory of those romantic lives, as something very sacred, in hearts +which perhaps held as genuine romances of their own. Miss Martha's +sweet face was softened by advancing deafness and by that gentle, +appealing look which comes when mind and memory grow a little dimmer, +though the loving nature knows no change. "Sister Amy says," she meekly +confessed, "that I am losing my memory. But I do not care very much. +There are so few things worth remembering!" +</P> + +<P> +They kept house together in sweet accord, and were indeed trained in +the neat Quaker ways so thoroughly, that they always worked by the same +methods. In opinion and emotion they were almost duplicates. Yet the +world holds no absolute and perfect correspondence, and it is useless +to affect to conceal—what was apparent to any intimate guest—that +there was one domestic question on which perfect sympathy was wanting. +During their whole lives they had never been able to take precisely the +same view of the best method of grinding Indian meal. Miss Martha +preferred to have it from a wind-mill; while Miss Amy was too +conscientious to deny that she thought it better when prepared by a +water-mill. She said firmly, though gently, that it seemed to her "less +gritty." +</P> + +<P> +Living their whole lives in this scarcely broken harmony by the margin +of the bay, they had long built together one castle in the air. They +had talked of it for many an hour by their evening fire, and they had +looked from their chamber windows toward the Red Light upon Rose Island +to see if it were coming true. This vision was, that they were to awake +some morning after an autumnal storm, and to find an unknown vessel +ashore behind the house, without name or crew or passengers; only there +was to be one sleeping child, with aristocratic features and a few +yards of exquisite embroidery. Years had passed, and their lives were +waning, without a glimpse of that precious waif of gentle blood. Once +in an October night Miss Martha had been awakened by a crash, and +looking out had seen that their pier had been carried away, and that a +dark vessel lay stranded with her bowsprit in the kitchen window. But +daylight revealed the schooner Polly Lawton, with a cargo of coal, and +the dream remained unfulfilled. They had never revealed it, except to +each other. +</P> + +<P> +Moved by a natural sympathy, Miss Martha went with Stephen to see the +injured child. Gerty lay asleep on a rather dingy little mattress, with +Mr. Comstock's overcoat rolled beneath her head. A day's illness will +commonly make even the coarsest child look refined and interesting; and +Gerty's physical organization was anything but coarse. Her pretty hair +curled softly round her head; her delicate profile was relieved against +the rough, dark pillow; and the tips of her little pink ears could not +have been improved by art, though they might have been by soap and +water. Warm tears came into Miss Martha's eyes, which were quickly +followed from corresponding fountains in Madam Delia's. +</P> + +<P> +"Thy own child?" said or rather signalled Miss Martha, forming the +letters softly with her lips. Stephen had his own reasons for leaving +her to ask this question in all ignorance. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am," said the show-woman. "Not much. Adopted." +</P> + +<P> +"Does thee know her parents?" This was similarly signalled. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Madam Delia, rather coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Does thee suppose that they were—" +</P> + +<P> +And here Miss Martha stopped, and the color came as suddenly and warmly +to her cheeks as if Monsieur Comstock had offered to marry her, and to +settle upon her the snakes as exclusive property. Madam Delia divined +the question; she had so often found herself trying to guess the social +position of Gerty's parents. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know as I know," said she, slowly, "whether you ought to know +anythin' about it. But I'll tell you what I know. That child's folks," +she added, mysteriously, "lived on Quality Hill." +</P> + +<P> +"Lived where?" said Miss Martha, breathless. +</P> + +<P> +"Upper crust," said the other, defining her symbol still further. "No +middlins to 'em. Genteel as anybody. Just look here!" +</P> + +<P> +Madam Delia unclasped her leather bag, brought forth from it a mass of +checks and tickets, some bird-seed, a small whip, a dog-collar, and a +dingy morocco box. This held a piece of an old-fashioned enamelled +ring, and a fragment of embroidered muslin marked "A." +</P> + +<P> +"She'd lived with me six months before she brought 'em," said the +show-woman, whispering. +</P> + +<P> +The bit of handkerchief was enough. Was it a dream? thought the dear +old lady. What the ocean had refused, was this sprite who had lived +between earth and air to fulfil? Miss Martha bent softly over the +bedside, resting her clean glove on the only dirty mattress it had ever +touched, and quietly kissed the child. Then she looked up with a +radiant face of perfect resolution. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. De Marsan," said she, with dignity that was almost solemnity, "I +wish to adopt this child. No one can doubt thy kindness of heart, but +thee must see that thee is in no condition to give her suitable care +and Christian nurture." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a fact," interposed Madam Delia with a pang +</P> + +<P> +"Then thee will give her to me?" asked Miss Martha, firmly. +</P> + +<P> +Madam Delia threw her apron over her face, and choked and sobbed +beneath it for several minutes. Then reappearing, "It's what I've +always expected," said she. Then, with a tinge of suspicion, "Would you +have taken her without the ring and handkerchief?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I should," said the other, gently. "But that seems to make it +a clearer call." +</P> + +<P> +"Fair enough," said Madam Delia, submitting. "I ain't denyin' of it." +Then she reflected and recommenced. "There never was such a smart +performin' child as that since the world began. She can do just +anythin', and just as easy! Time and again I might have hired her out +to a circus, and she glad of the chance, mind you; but no, I would keep +her safe to home. Then when she showed me the ring and the other +things, all my expectations altered very sudden; I knowed we couldn't +keep her, and I began to mistrust that she would somehow find her +folks. I guess my rathers was that she should, considerin'; but I did +wish it had been Anne, for she ain't got nothin' better in her than +just to live genteel." +</P> + +<P> +"But Anne seems a nice child, too," said Miss Martha, consolingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's just what she is," replied Madam Delia, with some +contempt. "But what is she for a contortionist? Ask Comstock what she's +got in her! And how to run the show without Gerty, that's what beats +me. Why, folks begin to complain already that we advertise swallerin', +and yet don't swaller. But never you mind, ma'am, you shall have Gerty. +You shall have her," she added, with a gulp, "if I have to sell out! Go +ahead!" And again the apron went over her face. +</P> + +<P> +At this point, Gerty waked up with a little murmur, looked up at Miss +Martha's kind face, and smiled a sweet, childish smile. Half asleep +still, she put out one thin, muscular little hand, and went to sleep as +the old lady took it in hers. A kiss awaked her. +</P> + +<P> +"What has thee been dreaming about, my little girl?" said Miss Martha. +</P> + +<P> +"Angels and things, I guess," said the child, somewhat roused. +</P> + +<P> +"Will thee go home with me and live?" said the lady. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes'm," replied Gerty, and went to sleep again. +</P> + +<P> +Two days later she was well enough to ride to Miss Martha's in a +carriage, escorted by Madam Delia and by Anne, "that dull, +uninteresting child," as Miss Amy had reluctantly described her, "so +different from this graceful Adelaide." This romantic name was a rapid +assumption of the soft-hearted Miss Amy's, but, once suggested, it was +as thoroughly-fixed as if a dozen baptismal fonts had written it in +water. +</P> + +<P> +Madam Delia was sustained, up to the time of Gerty's going, by a sense +of self-sacrifice. But this emotion, like other strong stimulants, has +its reactions. That remorse for a crime committed in vain, which Dr. +Johnson thought the acutest of human emotions, is hardly more +depressing than to discover that we have got beyond our depth in +virtue, and are in water where we really cannot quite swim,—and this +was the good woman's position. During her whole wandering though +blameless life,—in her girlish days, when she charmed snakes at +Meddibemps, or through her brief time of service as plain Car'line +Prouty at the Biddeford mills, or when she ran away from her +step-mother and took refuge among the Indians at Orono, or later, since +she had joined her fate with that of De Marsan,—she had never been so +severely tried. +</P> + +<P> +"That child was so smart," she said, beneath the evening canvas, to her +sympathetic spouse. "I always expected when we got old we'd kinder +retire on a farm or suthin', and let her and her husband—say Comstock, +if he was young enough—run the business. And even after she showed us +the ring and things, I thought likely she'd just come into her property +somewheres and take care of us. I don't know as I ever thought she'd +leave us, either way, and there she's gone." +</P> + +<P> +"She won't forget us," said the peaceful proprietor. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said the wife, "but it's lonesome. If it had only been Anne! I +shall miss Gerty the worst kind. And it'll kill the show!" +</P> + +<P> +And to tell the truth, the show languished. Nothing but the happy +acquisition of a Chinese giant nearly eight feet high, with slanting +eyes and a long pigtail,—a man who did penance in his height for the +undue brevity of his undersized nation,—would have saved the "museum." +</P> + +<P> +Meantime the neat proprieties of orderly life found but a poor disciple +in Gerty. Her warm heart opened to the dear old ladies; but she found +nothing familiar in this phantom of herself, this well-dressed little +girl who, after a rapid convalescence, was introduced at school and +"meeting" under the name of Adelaide. The school studies did not dismay +her, but she played the jew's-harp at recess, and danced the clog-dance +in india-rubbers, to the dismay of the little Misses Grundy, her +companions. In the calisthenic exercises she threw beanbags with an +untamed vigor that soon ripped the stitches of the bags, and sowed +those vegetables in every crack of the school-room floor. There was a +ladder in the garden, and it was some comfort to ascend it hand over +hand upon the under side, or to hang by her toes from the upper rung, +to the terror of her schoolmates. +</P> + +<P> +But she became ashamed of the hardness of her palms, and she grew in +general weary of her life. Her clothes pinched her, so did her new +boots; Madam Delia had gone to Providence with the show, and Gerty had +not so much as seen the new Chinese giant. +</P> + +<P> +Of all days Sunday was the most objectionable, when she had to sit +still in Friends' Meeting and think how pleasant it would be to hang by +the knees, head downward, from the parapet of the gallery. She liked +better the Seamen's Bethel, near by, where there was an aroma of tar +and tarpaulin that suggested the odors of the show-tent, and where, +when the Methodist exhorter gave out the hymn, "Howl, howl, ye winds of +night," the choir rendered it with such vigor that it was like being at +sea in a northeaster. But each week made her new life harder, until, +having cried herself asleep one Saturday evening, she rose early the +next morning for her orisons, which, I regret to say, were as follows:— +</P> + +<P> +"I must get out of this," quoth Gerty, "I must cut and run. I'll make +it all right for the old ladies, for I'll send 'em Anne. She'll like it +here first rate." +</P> + +<P> +She hunted up such remnants of her original wardrobe as had been +thought worth washing and preserving, and having put them on, together +with a hat whose trimmings had been vehemently burned by Miss Martha, +she set out to seek her fortune. Of all her new possessions, she took +only a pair of boots, and those she carried in her hand as she crept +softly down stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Save us!" exclaimed Biddy, who had been to a Mission Mass of +incredible length, and was already sweeping the doorsteps. "Christmas!" +she added, as a still more pious ejaculation, when the child said, +"Good by, Biddy, I'm off now." +</P> + +<P> +"Where to, thin?" exclaimed Biddy. +</P> + +<P> +"To Providence," said Gerty. "But don't you tell." +</P> + +<P> +"But ye can't go the morn's mornin'," said Biddy. "It's Sunday and +there's no cars." +</P> + +<P> +"There's legs," replied the child, briefly, as she closed the door. +</P> + +<P> +"It's much as iver," said the stumpy Hibernian, to herself, as she +watched the twinkling retreat of those slim, but vigorous little +members. +</P> + +<P> +They had been Gerty's support too long, in body and estate, for her to +shrink from trusting them in a walk of a dozen or a score of miles. But +the locomotion of Stephen's horse was quicker, and she did not get +seriously tired before being overtaken, and—not without difficulty and +some hot tears—coaxed back. Fortunately, Madam Delia came down from +Providence that evening, on a very unexpected visit, and at the +confidential hour of bedtime the child's heart was opened and made a +revelation. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you be mad, if I tell you something?" she said to Madam Delia, +abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said the show-woman, with surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you let Comstock box my ears?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll box his if he does," was the indignant answer. The gravest +contest that had ever arisen in the museum was when Monsieur Comstock, +teased beyond endurance, had thus taken the law into his own hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Gerty, after a pause, "I ain't a great lady, no more 'n +nothin'. Them things I brought to you was Anne's." +</P> + +<P> +"Anne's things?" gasped Madam Delia,—"the ring and the piece of a +handkerchief." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, 'm," said Gerty, "and I've got the rest." And exploring her +little trunk, she produced from a slit in the lining the other half of +the ring, with the name "Anne Deering." +</P> + +<P> +"You naughty, naughty girl!" said Madam Delia. "How did you get 'em +away from Anne?" +</P> + +<P> +"Coaxed her," said the child. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how did you make her hush up about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Told her I'd kill her if she said a single word," said Gerty, +undauntedly. "I showed her Pa De Marsan's old dirk-knife and told her +I'd stick it into her if she didn't hush. She was just such a +'fraid-cat she believed me. She might have known I didn't mean nothin'. +Now she can have 'em and be a lady. She was always tallkin' about bein' +a lady, and that put it into my head." +</P> + +<P> +"What did she want to be a lady for?" asked Madam Delia, indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Said she wanted to have a parlor and dress tight. I don't want to be +one of her old ladies. I want to stay with you, Delia, and learn the +clog-dance." And she threw her arms round the show-woman's neck and +cried herself to sleep. +</P> + +<P> +Never did the energetic proprietress of a Museum and Variety +Combination feel a greater exultation than did Madam Delia that night. +The child's offence was all forgotten in the delight of the discovery +to which it led. If there had been expectations of social glories to +accrue to the house of De Marsan through Gerty's social promotion, they +melted away; and the more substantial delight of still having someone +to love and to be proud of,—some object of tenderness warmer than +snakes and within nearer reach than a Chinese giant,—this came in its +stead. The show, too, was in a manner on its feet again. De Marsan said +that he would rather have Gerty than a hundred-dollar bill. Madam Delia +looked forward and saw herself sinking into the vale of years without a +sigh,—reaching a period when a serpent fifteen feet long would cease +to charm, or she to charm it,—and still having a source of pride and +prosperity in this triumphant girl. +</P> + +<P> +The tent was in its glory on the day of Gerty's return; to be sure, +nothing in particular had been washed except the face of Old Bill, but +that alone was a marvel compared with which all "Election Day" was +feeble, and when you add a paper collar, words can say no more. +Monsieur Comstock also had that "ten times barbered" look which +Shakespeare ascribes to Mark Antony, and which has belonged to that +hero's successors in the histrionic profession ever since. His chin was +unnaturally smooth, his mustache obtrusively perfumed, and nothing but +the unchanged dirtiness of his hands still linked him, like Antaeus, +with the earth. De Marsan had intended some personal preparation, but +had been, as usual, in no hurry, and the appointed moment found him, as +usual, in his shirt-sleeves. Madam Delia, however, wore a new breastpin +and gave Gerty another. And the great new attraction, the Chinese +giant, had put on a black broadcloth coat across his bony shoulders, in +her honor, and made a vigorous effort to sit up straight, and appear at +his ease when off duty. He habitually stooped a good deal in private +life, as if there were no object in being eight feet high, except +before spectators. +</P> + +<P> +Anne, the placid and imperturbable, was promoted to take the place that +Gerty had rejected, in the gentle home of the good sisters. The secret +of her birth, whatever it was, never came to light but, she took +kindly, as Madam Delia had predicted, to "living genteel," and grew up +into a well-behaved mediocrity, unregretful of the show-tent. Yet +probably no one reared within the smell of sawdust ever quite outgrew +all taste for "the profession," and Anne, even when promoted to good +society, never missed seeing a performance when her wandering friends +came by. If I told you under what name Gerty became a star in the +low-comedy line, after her marriage, you would all recognize it; and if +you had seen her in "Queen Pippin" or the "Shooting-Star" pantomime, +you would wish to see her again. Her first child was named after Madam +Delia, and proved to be a placid little thing, demure enough to have +been born in a Quaker family, and exhibiting no contortions or +gymnastics but those common to its years. And you may be sure that the +retired show-woman found in the duties of brevet-grand-mother a glory +that quite surpassed her expectations. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="sunshine"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH. +</H2> + +<P> +Near my summer home there is a little cove or landing by the bay, where +nothing larger than a boat can ever anchor. I sit above it now, upon +the steep bank, knee-deep in buttercups, and amid grass so lush and +green that it seems to ripple and flow instead of waving. Below lies a +tiny beach, strewn with a few bits of drift-wood and some purple +shells, and so sheltered by projecting walls that its wavelets plash +but lightly. A little farther out the sea breaks more roughly over +submerged rocks, and the waves lift themselves, before breaking, in an +indescribable way, as if each gave a glimpse through a translucent +window, beyond which all ocean's depths might be clearly seen, could +one but hit the proper angle of vision. On the right side of my retreat +a high wall limits the view, while close upon the left the crumbling +parapet of Fort Greene stands out into the foreground, its verdant +scarp so relieved against the blue water that each inward-bound +schooner seems to sail into a cave of grass. In the middle distance is +a white lighthouse, and beyond lie the round tower of old Fort Louis +and the soft low hills of Conanicut. +</P> + +<P> +Behind me an oriole chirrups in triumph amid the birch-trees which wave +around the house of the haunted window; before me a kingfisher pauses +and waits, and a darting blackbird shows the scarlet on his wings. +Sloops and schooners constantly come and go, careening in the wind, +their white sails taking, if remote enough, a vague blue mantle from +the delicate air. Sail-boats glide in the distance,—each a mere white +wing of canvas,—or coming nearer, and glancing suddenly into the cove, +are put as suddenly on the other tack, and almost in an instant seem +far away. There is to-day such a live sparkle on the water, such a +luminous freshness on the grass, that it seems, as is so often the case +in early June, as if all history were a dream, and the whole earth were +but the creation of a summer's day. +</P> + +<P> +If Petrarch still knows and feels the consummate beauty of these +earthly things, it may seem to him some repayment for the sorrows of a +life-time that one reader, after all this lapse of years, should choose +his sonnets to match this grass, these blossoms, and the soft lapse of +these blue waves. Yet any longer or more continuous poem would be out +of place to-day. I fancy that this narrow cove prescribes the proper +limits of a sonnet; and when I count the lines of ripple within yonder +projecting wall, there proves to be room for just fourteen. Nature +meets our whims with such little fitnesses. The words which build these +delicate structures of Petrarch's are as soft and fine and +close-textured as the sands upon this tiny beach, and their monotone, +if such it be, is the monotone of the neighboring ocean. Is it not +possible, by bringing such a book into the open air, to separate it +from the grimness of commentators, and bring it back to life and light +and Italy? +</P> + +<P> +The beautiful earth is the same as when this poetry and passion were +new; there is the same sunlight, the same blue water and green grass; +yonder pleasure-boat might bear, for aught we know, the friends and +lovers of five centuries ago; Petrarch and Laura might be there, with +Boccaccio and Fiammetta as comrades, and with Chaucer as their stranger +guest. It bears, at any rate, if I know its voyagers, eyes as lustrous, +voices as sweet. With the world thus young, beauty eternal, fancy free, +why should these delicious Italian pages exist but to be tortured into +grammatical examples? Is there no reward to be imagined for a +delightful book that can match Browning's fantastic burial of a tedious +one? When it has sufficiently basked in sunshine, and been cooled in +pure salt air, when it has bathed in heaped clover, and been scented, +page by page, with melilot, cannot its beauty once more blossom, and +its buried loves revive? +</P> + +<P> +Emboldened by such influences, at least let me translate a sonnet, and +see if anything is left after the sweet Italian syllables are gone. +Before this continent was discovered, before English literature +existed, when Chaucer was a child, these words were written. Yet they +are to-day as fresh and perfect as these laburnum-blossoms that droop +above my head. And as the variable and uncertain air comes freighted +with clover-scent from yonder field, so floats through these long +centuries a breath of fragrance, the memory of Laura. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 129.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Lieti fiori e felici."<BR> + O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers!<BR> + 'Mid which my queen her gracious footstep sets;<BR> + O plain, that keep'st her words for amulets<BR> + And hold'st her memory in thy leafy bowers!<BR> + O trees, with earliest green of spring-time hours,<BR> + And spring-time's pale and tender violets!<BR> + O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets<BR> + His blithe rays gild the outskirts of your towers!<BR> + O pleasant country-side! O purest stream,<BR> + That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear,<BR> + And of their living light can catch the beam!<BR> + I envy you her haunts so close and dear.<BR> + There is no rock so senseless but I deem<BR> + It burns with passion that to mine is near.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Goethe compared translators to carriers, who convey good wine to +market, though it gets unaccountably watered by the way. The more one +praises a poem, the more absurd becomes one's position, perhaps, in +trying to translate it. If it is so admirable—is the natural +inquiry,—why not let it alone? It is a doubtful blessing to the human +race, that the instinct of translation still prevails, stronger than +reason; and after one has once yielded to it, then each untranslated +favorite is like the trees round a backwoodsman's clearing, each of +which stands, a silent defiance, until he has cut it down. Let us try +the axe again. This is to Laura singing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 134.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina."<BR> + When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline,<BR> + And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh<BR> + Soft as his touch, and leads a minstrelsy<BR> + Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,<BR> + He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine,<BR> + And to my thoughts brings transformation high,<BR> + So that I say, "My time has come to die,<BR> + If fate so blest a death for me design."<BR> + But to my soul thus steeped in joy the sound<BR> + Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven,<BR> + It holds my spirit back to earth as well.<BR> + And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound<BR> + The thread of life which unto me was given<BR> + By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +As I look across the bay, there is seen resting over all the hills, and +even upon every distant sail, an enchanted veil of palest blue, that +seems woven out of the very souls of happy days,—a bridal veil, with +which the sunshine weds this soft landscape in summer. Such and so +indescribable is the atmospheric film that hangs over these poems of +Petrarch's; there is a delicate haze about the words, that vanishes +when you touch them, and reappears as you recede. How it clings, for +instance, around this sonnet! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 191.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Aura che quelle chiome."<BR> + Sweet air, that circlest round those radiant tresses,<BR> + And floatest, mingled with them, fold on fold,<BR> + Deliciously, and scatterest that fine gold,<BR> + Then twinest it again, my heart's dear jesses,<BR> + Thou lingerest on those eyes, whose beauty presses<BR> + Stings in my heart that all its life exhaust,<BR> + Till I go wandering round my treasure lost,<BR> + Like some scared creature whom the night distresses.<BR> + I seem to find her now, and now perceive<BR> + How far away she is; now rise, now fall;<BR> + Now what I wish, now what is true, believe.<BR> + O happy air! since joys enrich thee all,<BR> + Rest thee; and thou, O stream too bright to grieve!<BR> + Why can I not float with thee at thy call?<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The airiest and most fugitive among Petrarch's love-poems, so far as I +know,—showing least of that air of earnestness which he has contrived +to impart to almost all,—is this little ode or madrigal. It is +interesting to see, from this, that he could be almost conventional and +courtly in moments when he held Laura farthest aloof; and when it is +compared with the depths of solemn emotion in his later sonnets, it +seems like the soft glistening of young birch-leaves against a +background of pines. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + CANZONE XXIII.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta."<BR> + A new-born angel, with her wings extended,<BR> + Came floating from the skies to this fair shore,<BR> + Where, fate-controlled, I wandered with my sorrows.<BR> + She saw me there, alone and unbefriended,<BR> + She wove a silken net, and threw it o'er<BR> + The turf, whose greenness all the pathway borrows,<BR> + Then was I captured; nor could fears arise,<BR> + Such sweet seduction glimmered from her eyes.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Turn from these light compliments to the pure and reverential +tenderness of a sonnet like this:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 223.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama."<BR> + Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame<BR> + Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy?<BR> + Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy<BR> + Whom all the world doth as my lady name!<BR> + How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame,<BR> + How truth is joined with graceful dignity,<BR> + There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be<BR> + To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim;<BR> + There learn soft speech, beyond all poet's skill,<BR> + And softer silence, and those holy ways<BR> + Unutterable, untold by human heart.<BR> + But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill,<BR> + This none can copy! since its lovely rays<BR> + Are given by God's pure grace, and not by art.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The following, on the other hand, seems to me one of the Shakespearian +sonnets; the successive phrases set sail, one by one, like a yacht +squadron; each spreads its graceful wings and glides away. It is hard +to handle this white canvas without soiling. Macgregor, in the only +version of this sonnet which I have seen, abandons all attempt at +rhyme; but to follow the strict order of the original in this respect +is a part of the pleasant problem which one cannot bear to forego. And +there seems a kind of deity who presides over this union of languages, +and who sometimes silently lays the words in order, after all one's own +poor attempts have failed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 128.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "O passi sparsi; o pensier vaghi e pronti"<BR> + O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams!<BR> + O changeless memory! O fierce desire!<BR> + O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire;<BR> + O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams;<BR> + O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems<BR> + The sole reward that glory's deeds require;<BR> + O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire,<BR> + That all my days from slothful rest redeems;<BR> + O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well<BR> + His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move<BR> + At his least will; nor can it find relief.<BR> + O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell<BR> + Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love!<BR> + Linger, and see my passion and my grief.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Yonder flies a kingfisher, and pauses, fluttering like a butterfly in +the air, then dives toward a fish, and, failing, perches on the +projecting wall. Doves from neighboring dove-cotes alight on the +parapet of the fort, fearless of the quiet cattle who find there a +breezy pasture. These doves, in taking flight, do not rise from the +ground at once, but, edging themselves closer to the brink, with a +caution almost ludicrous in such airy things, trust themselves upon the +breeze with a shy little hop, and at the next moment are securely on +the wing. +</P> + +<P> +How the abundant sunlight inundates everything! The great clumps of +grass and clover are imbedded in it to the roots; it flows in among +their stalks, like water; the lilac-bushes bask in it eagerly; the +topmost leaves of the birches are burnished. A vessel sails by with +plash and roar, and all the white spray along her side is sparkling +with sunlight. Yet there is sorrow in the world, and it reached +Petrarch even before Laura died,—when it reached her. This exquisite +sonnet shows it:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 123.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I' vidi in terra angelici costumi."<BR> + I once beheld on earth celestial graces,<BR> + And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known,<BR> + Whose memory lends nor joy nor grief alone,<BR> + But all things else bewilders and effaces.<BR> + I saw how tears had left their weary traces<BR> + Within those eyes that once like sunbeams shone,<BR> + I heard those lips breathe low and plaintive moan,<BR> + Whose spell might once have taught the hills their places.<BR> + Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth,<BR> + Made ill their mourning strains more high and dear<BR> + Than ever wove sweet sounds for mortal ear;<BR> + And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth<BR> + The very leaves upon the boughs to soothe,<BR> + Such passionate sweetness filled the atmosphere.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +These sonnets are in Petrarch's earlier manner; but the death of Laura +brought a change. Look at yonder schooner coming down the bay, straight +toward us; she is hauled close to the wind, her jib is white in the +sunlight, her larger sails are touched with the same snowy lustre, and +all the swelling canvas is rounded into such lines of beauty as +scarcely anything else in the world—hardly even the perfect outlines +of the human form—can give. Now she comes up into the wind, and goes +about with a strong flapping of the sails, smiting on the ear at a +half-mile's distance; then she glides off on the other tack, showing +the shadowed side of her sails, until she reaches the distant zone of +haze. So change the sonnets after Laura's death, growing shadowy as +they recede, until the very last seems to merge itself in the blue +distance. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 251.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Gli occhi di ch' io parlai."<BR> + Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose,<BR> + The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile<BR> + Could my own soul from its own self beguile,<BR> + And in a separate world of dreams enclose,<BR> + The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows,<BR> + And the soft lightning of the angelic smile<BR> + That changed this earth to some celestial isle,<BR> + Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows.<BR> + And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn,<BR> + Left dark without the light I loved in vain,<BR> + Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn;<BR> + Dead is the source of all my amorous strain,<BR> + Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn,<BR> + And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"And yet I live!" What a pause is implied before these words! the +drawing of a long breath, immeasurably long; like that vast interval of +heart-beats that precedes Shakespeare's "Since Cleopatra died." I can +think of no other passage in literature that has in it the same wide +spaces of emotion. +</P> + +<P> +The following sonnet seems to me the most stately and concentrated in +the whole volume. It is the sublimity of a despair not to be relieved +by utterance. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 253.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Soleasi nel mio cor."<BR> + She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine,<BR> + A noble lady in a humble home,<BR> + And now her time for heavenly bliss has come,<BR> + 'T is I am mortal proved, and she divine.<BR> + The soul that all its blessings must resign,<BR> + And love whose light no more on earth finds room<BR> + Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom,<BR> + Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine;<BR> + They weep within my heart; and ears are deaf<BR> + Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care,<BR> + And naught remains to me save mournful breath.<BR> + Assuredly but dust and shade we are,<BR> + Assuredly desire is blind and brief,<BR> + Assuredly its hope but ends in death.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In a later strain he rises to that dream which is more than earth's +realities. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 261.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Levommi il mio pensiero."<BR> + Dreams bore my fancy to that region where<BR> + She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see.<BR> + 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be<BR> + I looked on her, less haughty and more fair.<BR> + She touched my hand, she said, "Within this sphere,<BR> + If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me:<BR> + I filled thy life with war's wild agony;<BR> + Mine own day closed ere evening could appear.<BR> + My bliss no human brain can understand;<BR> + I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil<BR> + Of beauty thou dost love shall wear again."<BR> + Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand<BR> + Ere those delicious tones could quite avail<BR> + To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain?<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It vindicates the emphatic reality and pesonality of Petrarch's love, +after all, that when from these heights of vision he surveys and +resurveys his life's long dream, it becomes to him more and more +definite, as well as more poetic, and is farther and farther from a +merely vague sentimentalism. In his later sonnets, Laura grows more +distinctly individual to us; her traits show themselves as more +characteristic, her temperament more intelligible, her precise +influence upon Petrarch clearer. What delicate accuracy of delineation +is seen, for instance, in this sonnet! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 314.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Dolci durezze e placide repulse."<BR> + Gentle severity, repulses mild,<BR> + Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing;<BR> + Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring<BR> + Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled;<BR> + A soft-toned voice, whose accents undefiled<BR> + Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring;<BR> + The bloom of virtue; purity's clear spring<BR> + To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild;<BR> + Divinest eyes to make a lover's bliss,<BR> + Whether to bridle in the wayward mind<BR> + Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss,<BR> + Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind;<BR> + This sweet completeness of thy life it is<BR> + That saved my soul; no other peace I find.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the following sonnet visions multiply upon visions. Would that one +could transfer into English the delicious way in which the sweet +Italian rhymes recur and surround and seem to embrace each other, and +are woven and unwoven and interwoven, like the heavenly hosts that +gathered around Laura. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 302.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Gli angeli eletti."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + The holy angels and the spirits blest,<BR> + Celestial bands, upon that day serene<BR> + When first my love went by in heavenly mien,<BR> + Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest.<BR> + "What light is here, in what new beauty drest?"<BR> + They said among themselves; "for none has seen<BR> + Within this age come wandering such a queen<BR> + From darkened earth into immortal rest."<BR> + And she, contented with her new-found bliss,<BR> + Ranks with the purest in that upper sphere,<BR> + Yet ever and anon looks back on this,<BR> + To watch for me, as if for me she stayed.<BR> + So strive, my thoughts, lest that high path I miss.<BR> + I hear her call, and must not be delayed.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +These odes and sonnets are all but parts of one symphony, leading us +through a passion strengthened by years and only purified by death, +until at last the graceful lay becomes an anthem and a Nunc dimittis. +In the closing sonnets Petrarch withdraws from the world, and they seem +like voices from a cloister, growing more and more solemn till the door +is closed. This is one of the last:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SONNET 309.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio."<BR> + Oft by my faithful mirror I am told,<BR> + And by my mind outworn and altered brow,<BR> + My earthly powers impaired and weakened now,<BR> + "Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!"<BR> + Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold,<BR> + And Time to his commandments bids us bow.<BR> + Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow<BR> + In life's long dream no more my sense to fold.<BR> + And while I think, our swift existence flies,<BR> + And none can live again earth's brief career,<BR> + Then in my deepest heart the voice replies<BR> + Of one who now has left this mortal sphere,<BR> + But walked alone through earthly destinies,<BR> + And of all women is to fame most dear.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +How true is this concluding line! Who can wonder that women prize +beauty, and are intoxicated by their own fascinations, when these +fragile gifts are yet strong enough to outlast all the memories of +statesmanship and war? Next to the immortality of genius is that which +genius may confer upon the object of its love. Laura, while she lived, +was simply one of a hundred or a thousand beautiful and gracious +Italian women; she had her loves and aversions, joys and griefs; she +cared dutifully for her household, and embroidered the veil which +Petrarch loved; her memory appeared as fleeting and unsubstantial as +that woven tissue. After five centuries we find that no armor of that +iron age was so enduring. The kings whom she honored, the popes whom +she revered are dust, and their memory is dust, but literature is still +fragrant with her name. An impression which has endured so long is +ineffaceable; it is an earthly immortality. +</P> + +<P> +"Time is the chariot of all ages to carry men away, and beauty cannot +bribe this charioteer." Thus wrote Petrarch in his Latin essays; but +his love had wealth that proved resistless and for Laura the chariot +stayed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="shadow"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +A SHADOW. +</H2> + +<P> +I shall always remember one winter evening, a little before +Christmas-time, when I took a long, solitary walk in the outskirts of +the town. The cold sunset had left a trail of orange light along the +horizon, the dry snow tinkled beneath my feet, and the early stars had +a keen, clear lustre that matched well with the sharp sound and the +frosty sensation. For some time I had walked toward the gleam of a +distant window, and as I approached, the light showed more and more +clearly through the white curtains of a little cottage by the road. I +stopped, on reaching it, to enjoy the suggestion of domestic +cheerfulness in contrast with the dark outside. I could not see the +inmates, nor they me; but something of human sympathy came from that +steadfast ray. +</P> + +<P> +As I looked, a film of shade kept appearing and disappearing with +rhythmic regularity in a corner of the window, as if some one might be +sitting in a low rocking-chair close by. Presently the motion ceased, +and suddenly across the curtain came the shadow of a woman. She raised +in her arms the shadow of a baby, and kissed it; then both disappeared, +and I walked on. +</P> + +<P> +What are Raphael's Madonnas but the shadow of a mother's love, so +traced as to endure forever? In this picture of mine, the group +actually moved upon the canvas. The curtains that hid it revealed it. +The ecstasy of human love passed in brief, intangible panorama before +me. It was something seen, yet unseen; airy, yet solid; a type, yet a +reality; fugitive, yet destined to last in my memory while I live. It +said more to me than would any Madonna of Raphael's, for his mother +never kisses her child. I believe I have never passed over that road +since then, never seen the house, never heard the names of its +occupants. Their character, their history, their fate, are all unknown. +But these two will always stand for me as disembodied types of +humanity,—the Mother and the Child; they seem nearer to me than my +immediate neighbors, yet they are as ideal and impersonal as the +goddesses of Greece or as Plato's archetypal man. +</P> + +<P> +I know not the parentage of that child, whether black or white, native +or foreign, rich or poor. It makes no difference. The presence of a +baby equalizes all social conditions. On the floor of some Southern +hut, scarcely so comfortable as a dog-kennel, I have seen a dusky woman +look down upon her infant with such an expression of delight as painter +never drew. No social culture can make a mother's face more than a +mother's, as no wealth can make a nursery more than a place where +children dwell. Lavish thousands of dollars on your baby-clothes, and +after all the child is prettiest when every garment is laid aside. That +becoming nakedness, at least, may adorn the chubby darling of the +poorest home. +</P> + +<P> +I know not what triumph or despair may have come and gone through that +wayside house since then, what jubilant guests may have entered, what +lifeless form passed out. What anguish or what sin may have come +between that woman and that child; through what worlds they now wander, +and whether separate or in each other's arms,—this is all unknown. +Fancy can picture other joys to which the first happiness was but the +prelude, and, on the other hand, how easy to imagine some special +heritage of human woe and call it theirs! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest,<BR> + Lord of thy house and hospitality;<BR> + And Grief, uneasy lover, might not rest<BR> + Save when he sat within the touch of thee."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Nay, the foretaste of that changed fortune may have been present, even +in the kiss. Who knows what absorbing emotion, besides love's immediate +impulse, may have been uttered in that shadowy embrace? There may have +been some contrition for ill-temper or neglect, or some triumph over +ruinous temptation, or some pledge of immortal patience, or some +heart-breaking prophecy of bereavement. It may have been simply an act +of habitual tenderness, or it may have been the wild reaction toward a +neglected duty; the renewed self-consecration of the saint, or the joy +of the sinner that repenteth. No matter. She kissed the baby. The +feeling of its soft flesh, the busy struggle of its little arms between +her hands, the impatient pressure of its little feet against her +knees,—these were the same, whatever the mood or circumstance beside. +They did something to equalize joy and sorrow, honor and shame. +Maternal love is love, whether a woman be a wife or only a mother. Only +a mother! +</P> + +<P> +The happiness beneath that roof may, perhaps, have never reached so +high a point as at that precise moment of my passing. In the coarsest +household, the mother of a young child is placed on a sort of pedestal +of care and tenderness, at least for a time. She resumes something of +the sacredness and dignity of the maiden. Coleridge ranks as the purest +of human emotions that of a husband towards a wife who has a baby at +her breast,—"a feeling how free from sensual desire, yet how different +from friendship!" And to the true mother however cultivated, or however +ignorant, this period of early parentage is happier than all else, in +spite of its exhausting cares. In that delightful book, the "Letters" +of Mrs. Richard Trench (mother of the well-known English writer), the +most agreeable passage is perhaps that in which, after looking back +upon a life spent in the most brilliant society of Europe, she gives +the palm of happiness to the time when she was a young mother. She +writes to her god-daughter: "I believe it is the happiest time of any +woman's life, who has affectionate feelings, and is blessed with +healthy and well-disposed children. I know at least that neither the +gayeties and boundless hopes of early life, nor the more grave pursuits +and deeper affections of later years, are by any means comparable in my +recollection with the serene, yet lively pleasure of seeing my children +playing on the grass, enjoying their little temperate supper, or +repeating 'with holy look' their simple prayers, and undressing for +bed, growing prettier for every part of their dress they took off, and +at last lying down, all freshness and love, in complete happiness, and +an amiable contest for mamma's last kiss." +</P> + +<P> +That kiss welcomed the child into a world where joy predominates. The +vast multitude of human beings enjoy existence and wish to live. They +all have their earthly life under their own control. Some religions +sanction suicide; the Christian Scriptures nowhere explicitly forbid +it; and yet it is a rare thing. Many persons sigh for death when it +seems far off, but the desire vanishes when the boat upsets, or the +locomotive runs off the track, or the measles set in. A wise physician +once said to me: "I observe that every one wishes to go to heaven, but +I observe that most people are willing to take a great deal of very +disagreeable medicine first." The lives that one least envies—as of +the Digger Indian or the outcast boy in the city—are yet sweet to the +living. "They have only a pleasure like that of the brutes," we say +with scorn. But what a racy and substantial pleasure is that! The +flashing speed of the swallow in the air, the cool play of the minnow +in the water, the dance of twin butterflies round a thistle-blossom, +the thundering gallop of the buffalo across the prairie, nay, the +clumsy walk of the grizzly bear; it were doubtless enough to reward +existence, could we have joy like such as these, and ask no more. This +is the hearty physical basis of animated life, and as step by step the +savage creeps up to the possession of intellectual manhood, each +advance brings with it new sorrow and new joy, with the joy always in +excess. +</P> + +<P> +There are many who will utterly disavow this creed that life is +desirable in itself. A fair woman in a ball-room, exquisitely dressed, +and possessed of all that wealth could give, once declared to me her +belief—and I think honestly—that no person over thirty was +consciously happy, or would wish to live, but for the fear of death. +There could not even be pleasure in contemplating one's children, she +asserted, since they were living in such a world of sorrow. Asking the +opinion, within half an hour, of another woman as fair and as favored +by fortune, I found directly the opposite verdict. "For my part I can +truly say," she answered, "that I enjoy every moment I live." The +varieties of temperament and of physical condition will always afford +us these extremes; but the truth lies between them, and most persons +will endure many sorrows and still find life sweet. +</P> + +<P> +And the mother's kiss welcomes the child into a world where good +predominates as well as joy. What recreants must we be, in an age that +has abolished slavery in America and popularized the governments of all +Europe, if we doubt that the tendency of man is upward! How much that +the world calls selfishness is only generosity with narrow walls,—a +too exclusive solicitude to maintain a wife in luxury or make one's +children rich! In an audience of rough people a generous sentiment +always brings down the house. In the tumult of war both sides applaud +an heroic deed. A courageous woman, who had traversed alone, on +benevolent errands, the worst parts of New York told me that she never +felt afraid except in the solitudes of the country; wherever there was +a crowd, she found a protector. +</P> + +<P> +A policeman of great experience once spoke to me with admiration of the +fidelity of professional thieves to each other, and the risks they +would run for the women whom they loved; when "Bristol Bill" was +arrested, he said, there was found upon the burglar a set of false +keys, not quite finished, by which he would certainly, within +twenty-four hours, have had his mistress out of jail. Parent-Duchatelet +found always the remains of modesty among the fallen women of Paris +hospitals; and Mayhew, amid the London outcasts, says that he thinks +better of human nature every day. Even among politicians, whom it is +our American fashion to revile as the chief of sinners, there is less +of evil than of good. +</P> + +<P> +In Wilberforce's "Memoirs" there is an account of his having once asked +Mr. Pitt whether his long experience as Prime Minister had made him +think well or ill of his fellow-men. Mr. Pitt answered, "Well"; and his +successor, Lord Melbourne, being asked the same question, answered, +after a little reflection, "My opinion is the same as that of Mr. Pitt." +</P> + +<P> +Let us have faith. It was a part of the vigor of the old Hebrew +tradition to rejoice when a man-child was born into the world; and the +maturer strength of nobler ages should rejoice over a woman-child as +well. Nothing human is wholly sad, until it is effete and dying out. +Where there is life there is promise. "Vitality is always hopeful," was +the verdict of the most refined and clear-sighted woman who has yet +explored the rough mining villages of the Rocky Mountains. There is apt +to be a certain coarse virtue in rude health; as the Germanic races +were purest when least civilized, and our American Indians did not +unlearn chastity till they began to decay. But even where vigor and +vice are found together, they still may hold a promise for the next +generation. Out of the strong cometh forth sweetness. Parisian +wickedness is not so discouraging merely because it is wicked, as from +a suspicion that it is draining the life-blood of the nation. A mob of +miners or of New York bullies may be uncomfortable neighbors, and may +make a man of refinement hesitate whether to stop his ears or to feel +for his revolver; but they hold more promise for the coming generations +than the line which ends in Madame Bovary or the Vicomte de Camors. +</P> + +<P> +But behind that cottage curtain, at any rate, a new and prophetic life +had begun. I cannot foretell that child's future, but I know something +of its past. The boy may grow up into a criminal, the woman into an +outcast, yet the baby was beloved. It came "not in utter nakedness." It +found itself heir of the two prime essentials of existence,—life and +love. Its first possession was a woman's kiss; and in that heritage the +most important need of its career was guaranteed. "An ounce of mother," +says the Spanish proverb, "is worth a pound of clergy." Jean Paul says +that in life every successive influence affects us less and less, so +that the circumnavigator of the globe is less influenced by all the +nations he has seen than by his nurse. Well may the child imbibe that +reverence for motherhood which is the first need of man. Where woman is +most a slave, she is at least sacred to her son. The Turkish Sultan +must prostrate himself at the door of his mother's apartments, and were +he known to have insulted her, it would make his throne tremble. Among +the savage African Touaricks, if two parents disagree, it is to the +mother that the child's obedience belongs. Over the greater part of the +earth's surface, the foremost figures in all temples are the Mother and +Child. Christian and Buddhist nations, numbering together two thirds of +the world's population, unite in this worship. Into the secrets of the +ritual that baby in the window had already received initiation. +</P> + +<P> +And how much spiritual influence may in turn have gone forth from that +little one! The coarsest father gains a new impulse to labor from the +moment of his baby's birth; he scarcely sees it when awake, and yet it +is with him all the time. Every stroke he strikes is for his child. New +social aims, new moral motives, come vaguely up to him. The London +costermonger told Mayhew that he thought every man would like his son +or daughter to have a better start in the world than his own. After +all, there is no tonic like the affections. Philosophers express wonder +that the divine laws should give to some young girl, almost a child, +the custody of an immortal soul. But what instruction the baby brings +to the mother! She learns patience, self-control, endurance; her very +arm grows strong, so that she can hold the dear burden longer than the +father can. She learns to understand character, too, by dealing with +it. "In training my first children," said a wise mother to me, "I +thought that all were born just the same, and that I was wholly +responsible for what they should become. I learned by degrees that each +had a temperament of its own, which I must study before I could teach +it." And thus, as the little ones grow older, their dawning instincts +guide those of the parents; their questions suggest new answers, and to +have loved them is a liberal education. +</P> + +<P> +For the height of heights is love. The philosopher dries into a +skeleton like that he investigates, unless love teaches him. He is +blind among his microscopes, unless he sees in the humblest human soul +a revelation that dwarfs all the world beside. While he grows gray in +ignorance among his crucibles, every girlish mother is being +illuminated by every kiss of her child. That house is so far sacred, +which holds within its walls this new-born heir of eternity. But to +dwell on these high mysteries would take us into depths beyond the +present needs of mother or of infant, and it is better that the greater +part of the baby-life should be that of an animated toy. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps it is well for all of us that we should live mostly on the +surfaces of things and should play with life, to avoid taking it too +hard. In a nursery the youngest child is a little more than a doll, and +the doll is a little less than a child. What spell does fancy weave on +earth like that which the one of these small beings performs for the +other? This battered and tattered doll, this shapeless, featureless, +possibly legless creature, whose mission it is to be dragged by one +arm, or stood upon its head in the bathing-tub, until it finally +reverts to the rag-bag whence it came,—what an affluence of breathing +life is thrown around it by one touch of dawning imagination! Its +little mistress will find all joy unavailing without its sympathetic +presence, will confide every emotion to its pen-and-ink ears, and will +weep passionate tears if its extremely soiled person is pricked when +its clothes are mended. What psychologist, what student of the human +heart, has ever applied his subtile analysis to the emotions of a child +toward her doll? +</P> + +<P> +I read lately the charming autobiography of a little girl of eight +years, written literally from her own dictation. Since "Pet Marjorie" I +have seen no such actual self-revelation on the part of a child. In the +course of her narration she describes, with great precision and +correctness, the travels of the family through Europe in the preceding +year, assigning usually the place of importance to her doll, who +appears simply as "My Baby." Nothing can be more grave, more accurate, +more serious than the whole history, but nothing in it seems quite so +real and alive as the doll. "When we got to Nice, I was sick. The next +morning the doctor came, and he said I had something that was very much +like scarlet fever. Then I had Annie take care of baby, and keep her +away, for I was afraid she would get the fever. She used to cry to come +to me, but I knew it wouldn't be good for her." +</P> + +<P> +What firm judgment is here, what tenderness without weakness, what +discreet motherhood! When Christmas came, it appears that baby hung up +her stocking with the rest. Her devoted parent had bought for her a +slate with a real pencil. Others provided thimble and scissors and +bodkin and a spool of thread, and a travelling-shawl with a strap, and +a cap with tarletan ruffles. "I found baby with the cap on, early in +the morning, and she was so pleased she almost jumped out of my arms." +Thus in the midst of visits to the Coliseum and St. Peter's, the drama +of early affection goes always on. "I used to take her to hear the +band, in the carriage, and she went everywhere I did." But the love of +all dolls, as of other pets, must end with a tragedy, and here it +comes. "The next place we went to was Lucerne. There was a lovely lake +there, but I had a very sad time. One day I thought I'd take baby down +to breakfast, and, as I was going up stairs, my foot slipped and baby +broke her head. And O, I felt so bad! and I cried out, and I ran up +stairs to Annie, and mamma came, and O, we were all so sorry! And mamma +said she thought I could get another head, but I said, 'It won't be the +same baby.' And mamma said, maybe we could make it seem so." +</P> + +<P> +At this crisis the elder brother and sister departed for Mount Righi. +"They were going to stay all night, and mamma and I stayed at home to +take care of each other. I felt very bad about baby and about their +going, too. After they went, mamma and I thought we would go to the +little town and see what we could find." After many difficulties, a +waxen head was discovered. "Mamma bought it, and we took it home and +put it on baby; but I said it wasn't like my real baby, only it was +better than having no child at all!" +</P> + +<P> +This crushing bereavement, this reluctant acceptance of a child by +adoption, to fill the vacant heart,—how real and formidable is all +this rehearsal of the tragedies of maturer years! I knew an instance in +which the last impulse of ebbing life was such a gush of imaginary +motherhood. +</P> + +<P> +A dear friend of mine, whose sweet charities prolong into a third +generation the unbounded benevolence of old Isaac Hopper, used to go at +Christmas-time with dolls and other gifts to the poor children on +Randall's Island. Passing the bed of a little girl whom the physician +pronounced to be unconscious and dying, the kind visitor insisted on +putting a doll into her arms. Instantly the eyes of the little invalid +opened, and she pressed the gift eagerly to her heart, murmuring over +it and caressing it. The matron afterwards wrote that the child died +within two hours, wearing a happy face, and still clinging to her +new-found treasure. +</P> + +<P> +And beginning with this transfer of all human associations to a doll, +the child's life interfuses itself readily among all the affairs of the +elders. In its presence, formality vanishes, the most oppressive +ceremonial is a little relieved when children enter. Their influence is +pervasive and irresistible, like that of water, which adapts itself to +any landscape,—always takes its place, welcome or unwelcome,—keeps +its own level and seems always to have its natural and proper margin. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Out of doors how children mingle with nature, and seem to begin just +where birds and butterflies leave off! Leigh Hunt, with his delicate +perceptions, paints this well: "The voices of children seem as natural +to the early morning as the voice of the birds. The suddenness, the +lightness, the loudness, the sweet confusion, the sparkling gayety, +seem alike in both. The sudden little jangle is now here and now there; +and now a single voice calls to another, and the boy is off like the +bird." So Heine, with deeper thoughtfulness, noticed the "intimacy with +the trees" of the little wood-gatherer in the Hartz Mountains; soon the +child whistled like a linnet, and the other birds all answered him; +then he disappeared in the thicket with his bare feet and his bundle of +brushwood. +</P> + +<P> +"Children," thought Heine, "are younger than we, and can still remember +the time when they were trees or birds, and can therefore understand +and speak their language; but we are grown old, and have too many +cares, and too much jurisprudence and bad poetry in our heads." +</P> + +<P> +But why go to literature for a recognition of what one may see by +opening one's eyes? Before my window there is a pool, two rods square, +that is haunted all winter by children,—clearing away the snow of many +a storm, if need be, and mining downward till they strike the ice. I +look this morning from the window, and the pond is bare. In a moment I +happen to look again, and it is covered with a swarm of boys; a great +migrating flock has settled upon it, as if swooping down from parts +unknown to scream and sport themselves here. The air is full of their +voices; they have all tugged on their skates instantaneously, as it +were by magic. Now they are in a confused cluster, now they sweep round +and round in a circle, now it is broken into fragments and as quickly +formed again; games are improvised and abandoned; there seems to be no +plan or leader, but all do as they please, and yet somehow act in +concert, and all chatter all the time. Now they have alighted, every +one, upon the bank of snow that edges the pond, each scraping a little +hollow in which to perch. Now every perch is vacant again, for they are +all in motion; each moment increases the jangle of shrill +voices,—since a boy's outdoor whisper to his nearest crony is as if he +was hailing a ship in the offing,—and what they are all saying can no +more be made out than if they were a flock of gulls or blackbirds. I +look away from the window once more, and when I glance out again there +is not a boy in sight. They have whirled away like snowbirds, and the +little pool sleeps motionless beneath the cheerful wintry sun. Who but +must see how gradually the joyous life of the animal rises through +childhood into man,—since the soaring gnats, the glancing fishes, the +sliding seals are all represented in this mob of half-grown boyhood +just released from school. +</P> + +<P> +If I were to choose among all gifts and qualities that which, on the +whole, makes life pleasantest, I should select the love of children. No +circumstance can render this world wholly a solitude to one who has +that possession. It is a freemasonry. Wherever one goes, there are the +little brethren and sisters of the mystic tie. No diversity of race or +tongue makes much difference. A smile speaks the universal language. +"If I value myself on anything," said the lonely Hawthorne, "it is on +having a smile that children love." They are such prompt little beings; +they require so little prelude; hearts are won in two minutes, at that +frank period, and so long as you are true to them they will be true to +you. They need no argument, no bribery. They have a hearty appetite for +gifts, no doubt, but it is not for these that they love the giver. Take +the wealth of the world and lavish it with counterfeited affection: I +will win all the children's hearts away from you by empty-handed love. +The gorgeous toys will dazzle them for an hour; then their instincts +will revert to their natural friends. In visiting a house where there +are children I do not like to take them presents: it is better to +forego the pleasure of the giving than to divide the welcome between +yourself and the gift. Let that follow after you are gone. +</P> + +<P> +It is an exaggerated compliment to women when we ascribe to them alone +this natural sympathy with childhood. It is an individual, not a sexual +trait, and is stronger in many men than in many women. It is nowhere +better exhibited in literature than where the happy Wilhelm Meister +takes his boy by the hand, to lead him "into the free and lordly +world." Such love is not universal among the other sex, though men, in +that humility which so adorns their natures, keep up the pleasing +fiction that it is. As a general rule any little girl feels some +glimmerings of emotion towards anything that can pass for a doll, but +it does not follow that, when grown older, she will feel as ready an +instinct toward every child. Try it. Point out to a woman some bundle +of blue-and-white or white-and-scarlet in some one's arms at the next +street corner. Ask her, "Do you love that baby?" Not one woman in three +will say promptly, "Yes." The others will hesitate, will bid you wait +till they are nearer, till they can personally inspect the little thing +and take an inventory of its traits; it may be dirty, too; it may be +diseased. Ah! but this is not to love children, and you might as well +be a man. To love children is to love childhood, instinctively, at +whatever distance, the first impulse being one of attraction, though it +may be checked by later discoveries. Unless your heart commands at +least as long a range as your eye, it is not worth much. The dearest +saint in my calendar never entered a railway car that she did not look +round for a baby, which, when discovered, must always be won at once +into her arms. If it was dirty, she would have been glad to bathe it; +if ill, to heal it. It would not have seemed to her anything worthy the +name of love, to seek only those who were wholesome and clean. Like the +young girl in Holmes's most touching poem, she would have claimed as +her own the outcast child whom nurses and physicians had abandoned. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Take her, dread Angel! Break in love<BR> + This bruised reed and make it thine!'<BR> + No voice descended from above,<BR> + But Avis answered, 'She is mine!'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +When I think of the self-devotion which the human heart can contain—of +those saintly souls that are in love with sorrow, and that yearn to +shelter all weakness and all grief—it inspires an unspeakable +confidence that there must also be an instinct of parentage beyond this +human race, a heart of hearts, cor cordium. As we all crave something +to protect, so we long to feel ourselves protected. We are all infants +before the Infinite; and as I turned from that cottage window to the +resplendent sky, it was easy to fancy that mute embrace, that shadowy +symbol of affection, expanding from the narrow lattice till it touched +the stars, gathering every created soul into the armsof Immortal Love. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="footpaths"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +FOOTPATHS. +</H2> + +<P> +All round the shores of the island where I dwell there runs a winding +path. It is probably as old as the settlement of the country, and has +been kept open with pertinacious fidelity by the fishermen whose right +of way it represents. In some places, as between Fort Adams and Castle +Hill, it exists in its primitive form, an irregular track above rough +cliffs, whence you look down upon the entrance to the harbor and watch +the white-sailed schooners that glide beneath. Elsewhere the high-road +has usurped its place, and you have the privilege of the path without +its charm. Along our eastern cliffs it runs for some miles in the rear +of beautiful estates, whose owners have seized on it, and graded it, +and gravelled it, and made stiles for it, and done for it everything +that landscape-gardening could do, while leaving it a footpath still. +You walk there with croquet and roses on the one side, and with +floating loons and wild ducks on the other. In remoter places the path +grows wilder, and has ramifications striking boldly across the +peninsula through rough moorland and among great ledges of rock, where +you may ramble for hours, out of sight of all but some sportsman with +his gun, or some truant-boy with dripping water-lilies. There is always +a charm to me in the inexplicable windings of these wayward tracks; yet +I like the path best where it is nearest the ocean. There, while +looking upon blue sea and snowy sails and floating gulls, you may yet +hear on the landward side the melodious and plaintive drawl of the +meadow-lark, most patient of summer visitors, and, indeed, lingering on +this island almost the whole year round. +</P> + +<P> +But who cares whither a footpath leads? The charm is in the path +itself, its promise of something that the high-road cannot yield. Away +from habitations, you know that the fisherman, the geologist, the +botanist may have been there, or that the cows have been driven home +and that somewhere there are bars and a milk-pail. Even in the midst of +houses, the path suggests school-children with their luncheon-baskets, +or workmen seeking eagerly the noonday interval or the twilight rest. A +footpath cannot be quite spoiled, so long as it remains such; you can +make a road a mere avenue for fast horses or showy women, but this +humbler track keeps its simplicity, and if a queen comes walking +through it, she comes but as a village maid. On Sunday, when it is not +etiquette for our fashionables to drive, but only to walk along the +cliffs, they seem to wear a more innocent and wholesome aspect in that +novel position; I have seen a fine lady pause under such circumstances +and pick a wild-flower; she knew how to do it. A footpath has its own +character, while that of the high-road is imposed upon it by those who +dwell beside it or pass over it; indeed, roads become picturesque only +when they are called lanes and make believe that they are but paths. +</P> + +<P> +The very irregularity of a footpath makes half its charm. So much of +loitering and indolence and impulse have gone to its formation, that +all which is stiff and military has been left out. I observed that the +very dikes of the Southern rice plantations did not succeed in being +rectilinear, though the general effect was that of Tennyson's "flowery +squares." Even the country road, which is but an enlarged footpath, is +never quite straight, as Thoreau long since observed, noting it with +his surveyor's eye. I read in his unpublished diary: "The law that +plants the rushes in waving lines along the edge of a pond, and that +curves the pond shore itself, incessantly beats against the straight +fences and highways of men, and makes them conform to the line of +beauty at last." It is this unintentional adaptation that makes a +footpath so indestructible. Instead of striking across the natural +lines, it conforms to them, nestles into the hollow, skirts the +precipice, avoids the morass. An unconscious landscape-gardener, it +seeks the most convenient course, never doubting that grace will +follow. Mitchell, at his "Edgewood" farm, wishing to decide on the most +picturesque avenue to his front door, ordered a heavy load of stone to +be hauled across the field, and bade the driver seek the easiest +grades, at whatever cost of curvature. The avenue followed the path so +made. +</P> + +<P> +When a footpath falls thus unobtrusively into its place, all natural +forces seem to sympathize with it, and help it to fulfil its destiny. +Once make a well-defined track through a wood, and presently the +overflowing brooks seek it for a channel, the obstructed winds draw +through it, the fox and woodchuck travel by it, the catbird and robin +build near it, the bee and swallow make a high-road of its convenient +thoroughfare. In winter the first snows mark it with a white line; as +you wander through you hear the blue-jay's cry, and see the hurrying +flight of the sparrow; the graceful outlines of the leafless bushes are +revealed, and the clinging bird's-nests, "leaves that do not fall," +give happy memories of summer homes. Thus Nature meets man half-way. +The paths of the wild forest and of the rural neighborhood are not at +all the same thing; indeed, a "spotted trail," marked only by the +woodman's axe-marks on the trees, is not a footpath. Thoreau, who is +sometimes foolishly accused of having sought to be a mere savage, +understood this distinction well. "A man changes by his presence," he +says in his unpublished diary, "the very nature of the trees. The +poet's is not a logger's path, but a woodman's,—the logger and pioneer +have preceded him, and banished decaying wood and the spongy mosses +which feed on it, and built hearths and humanized nature for him. For a +permanent residence, there can be no comparison between this and the +wilderness. Our woods are sylvan, and their inhabitants woodsmen and +rustics; that is, a selvaggia and its inhabitants salvages." What +Thoreau loved, like all men of healthy minds, was the occasional +experience of untamed wildness. "I love to see occasionally," he adds, +"a man from whom the usnea (lichen) hangs as gracefully as from a +spruce." +</P> + +<P> +Footpaths bring us nearer both to nature and to man. No high-road, not +even a lane, conducts to the deeper recesses of the wood, where you +hear the wood-thrush. There are a thousand concealed fitnesses in +nature, rhymed correspondences of bird and blossom, for which you must +seek through hidden paths; as when you come upon some black brook so +palisaded with cardinal-flowers as to seem "a stream of sunsets"; or +trace its shadowy course till it spreads into some forest-pool, above +which that rare and patrician insect, the Agrion dragon-fly, flits and +hovers perpetually, as if the darkness and the cool had taken wings. +The dark brown pellucid water sleeps between banks of softest moss; +white stars of twin-flowers creep close to the brink, delicate sprays +of dewberry trail over it, and the emerald tips of drooping leaves +forever tantalize the still surface. Above these the slender, dark-blue +insect waves his dusky wings, like a liberated ripple of the brook, and +takes the few stray sunbeams on his lustrous form. Whence came the +correspondence between this beautiful shy creature and the moist, dark +nooks, shot through with stray and transitory sunlight, where it +dwells? The analogy is as unmistakable as that between the scorching +heats of summer and the shrill cry of the cicada. They suggest +questions that no savant can answer, mysteries that wait, like Goethe's +secret of morphology, till a sufficient poet can be born. And we, +meanwhile, stand helpless in their presence, as one waits beside the +telegraphic wire, while it hums and vibrates, charged with all +fascinating secrets, above the heads of a wondering world. +</P> + +<P> +It is by the presence of pathways on the earth that we know it to be +the habitation of man; in the barest desert, they open to us a common +humanity. It is the absence of these that renders us so lonely on the +ocean, and makes us glad to watch even the track of our own vessel. But +on the mountain-top, how eagerly we trace out the "road that brings +places together," as Schiller says. It is the first thing we look for; +till we have found it, each scattered village has an isolated and +churlish look, but the glimpse of a furlong of road puts them all in +friendly relations. The narrower the path, the more domestic and +familiar it seems. +</P> + +<P> +The railroad may represent the capitalist or the government; the +high-road indicates what the surveyor or the county commissioners +thought best; but the footpath shows what the people needed. Its +associations are with beauty and humble life,—the boy with his dog, +the little girl with her fagots, the pedler with his pack; cheery +companions they are or ought to be. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Jog on, jog on the footpath way,<BR> + And merrily hent the stile-a:<BR> + A merry heart goes all the day,<BR> + Your sad one tires in a mile-a."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +The footpath takes you across the farms and behind the houses; you are +admitted to the family secrets and form a personal acquaintance. Even +if you take the wrong path, it only leads you "across-lots" to some man +ploughing, or some old woman picking berries,—perhaps a very spicy +acquaintance, whom the road would never have brought to light. If you +are led astray in the woods, that only teaches you to observe landmarks +more closely, or to leave straws and stakes for tokens, like a gypsy's +patteran, to show the ways already traversed. There is a healthy vigor +in the mind of the boy who would like of all things to be lost in the +woods, to build a fire out of doors, and sleep under a tree or in a +haystack. Civilization is tiresome and enfeebling, unless we +occasionally give it the relish of a little outlawry, and approach, in +imagination at least, the zest of a gypsy life. The records of +pedestrian journeys, the Wanderjahre and memoirs of good-for-noth-ings, +and all the delightful German forest literature,—these belong to the +footpath side of our nature. The passage I best remember in all Bayard +Taylor's travels is the ecstasy of his Thuringian forester, who said: +"I recall the time when just a sunny morning made me so happy that I +did not know what to do with myself. One day in spring, as I went +through the woods and saw the shadows of the young leaves upon the +moss, and smelt the buds of the firs and larches, and thought to +myself, 'All thy life is to be spent in the splendid forest,'I actually +threw myself down and rolled in the grass like a dog, over and over, +crazy with joy." +</P> + +<P> +It is the charm of pedestrian journeys that they convert the grandest +avenues to footpaths. Through them alone we gain intimate knowledge of +the people, and of nature, and indeed of ourselves. It is easy to hurry +too fast for our best reflections, which, as the old monk said of +perfection, must be sought not by flying, but by walking, "Perfectionis +via non pervolanda sed perambulanda." The thoughts that the railway +affords us are dusty thoughts; we ask the news, read the journals, +question our neighbor, and wish to know what is going on because we are +a part of it. It is only in the footpath that our minds, like our +bodies, move slowly, and we traverse thought, like space, with a +patient thoroughness. Rousseau said that he had never experienced so +much, lived so truly, and been so wholly himself, as during his travels +on foot. +</P> + +<P> +What can Hawthorne mean by saying in his English diary that "an +American would never understand the passage in Bunyan about Christian +and Hopeful going astray along a by-path into the grounds of Giant +Despair, from there being no stiles and by-paths in our country"? So +much of the charm of American pedestrianism lies in the by-paths! For +instance, the whole interior of Cape Ann, beyond Gloucester, is a +continuous woodland, with granite ledges everywhere cropping out, +around which the high-road winds, following the curving and indented +line of the sea, and dotted here and there with fishing hamlets. This +whole interior is traversed by a network of footpaths, rarely passable +for a wagon, and not always for a horse, but enabling the pedestrian to +go from any one of these villages to any other, in a line almost +direct, and always under an agreeable shade. By the longest of these +hidden ways, one may go from Pigeon Cove to Gloucester, ten miles, +without seeing a public road. In the little inn at the former village +there used to hang an old map of this whole forest region, giving a +chart of some of these paths, which were said to date back to the first +settlement of the country. One of them, for instance, was called on the +map "Old Road from Sandy Bay to Squam Meeting-house through the Woods"; +but the road is now scarcely even a bridle-path, and the most faithful +worshipper could not seek Squam Meeting-house in the family chaise. +Those woods have been lately devastated; but when I first knew that +region, it was as good as any German forest. +</P> + +<P> +Often we stepped almost from the edge of the sea into some gap in the +woods; there seemed hardly more than a rabbit-track, yet presently we +met some wayfarer who had crossed the Cape by it. A piny dell gave some +vista of the broad sea we were leaving, and an opening in the woods +displayed another blue sea-line before; the encountering breezes +interchanged odor of berry-bush and scent of brine; penetrating farther +among oaks and chestnuts, we came upon some little cottage, quaint and +sheltered as any Spenser drew; it was built on no high-road, and turned +its vine-clad gable away from even the footpath. +</P> + +<P> +Then the ground rose and we were surprised by a breeze from a new +quarter; perhaps we climbed trees to look for landmarks, and saw only, +still farther in the woods, some great cliff of granite or the derrick +of an unseen quarry. Three miles inland, as I remember, we found the +hearthstones of a vanished settlement; then we passed a swamp with +cardinal-flowers; then a cathedral of noble pines, topped with +crow's-nests. If we had not gone astray by this time, we presently +emerged on Dogtown Common, an elevated table-land, over-spread with +great boulders as with houses, and encircled with a girdle of green +woods and an outer girdle of blue sea. I know of nothing more wild than +that gray waste of boulders; it is a natural Salisbury Plain, of which +icebergs and ocean-currents were the Druidic builders; in that +multitude of couchant monsters there seems a sense of suspended life; +you feel as if they must speak and answer to each other in the silent +nights, but by day only the wandering sea-birds seek them, on their way +across the Cape, and the sweet-bay and green fern embed them in a +softer and deeper setting as the years go by. This is the "height of +ground" of that wild footpath; but as you recede farther from the outer +ocean and approach Gloucester, you come among still wilder ledges, +unsafe without a guide, and you find in one place a cluster of deserted +houses, too difficult of access to remove even their materials, so that +they are left to moulder alone. I used to wander in those woods, summer +after summer, till I had made my own chart of their devious tracks, and +now when I close my eyes in this Oldport midsummer, the soft Italian +air takes on something of a Scandinavian vigor; for the incessant roll +of carriages I hear the tinkle of the quarryman's hammer and the +veery's song; and I long for those perfumed and breezy pastures, and +for those promontories of granite where the fresh water is nectar and +the salt sea has a regal blue. +</P> + +<P> +I recall another footpath near Worcester, Massachusetts; it leads up +from the low meadows into the wildest region of all that vicinity, +Tatesset Hill. Leaving behind you the open pastures where the cattle +lie beneath the chestnut-trees or drink from the shallow brook, you +pass among the birches and maples, where the woodsman's shanty stands +in the clearing, and the raspberry-fields are merry with children's +voices. The familiar birds and butterflies linger below with them, and +in the upper and more sacred depths the wood-thrush chants his litany +and the brown mountain butterflies hover among the scented vines. +Higher yet rises the "Rattlesnake Ledge," spreading over one side of +the summit a black avalanche of broken rock, now overgrown with +reindeer-moss and filled with tufts of the smaller wild geranium. Just +below this ledge,—amid a dark, dense track of second-growth forest, +masked here and there with grape-vines, studded with rare orchises, and +pierced by a brook that vanishes suddenly where the ground sinks away +and lets the blue distance in,—there is a little monument to which the +footpath leads, and which always seemed to me as wild a memorial of +forgotten superstition as the traveller can find amid the forests of +Japan. +</P> + +<P> +It was erected by a man called Solomon Pearson (not to give his name +too closely), a quiet, thoughtful farmer, long-bearded, low-voiced, and +with that aspect of refinement which an ideal life brings forth even in +quite uninstructed men. At the height of the "Second Advent" excitement +this man resolved to build for himself upon these remote rocks a house +which should escape the wrath to come, and should endure even amid a +burning and transformed earth. Thinking, as he had once said to me, +that, "if the First Dispensation had been strong enough to endure, +there would have been no need of a Second," he resolved to build for +his part something which should possess permanence at least. And there +still remains on that high hillside the small beginning that he made. +</P> + +<P> +There are four low stone walls, three feet thick, built solidly +together without cement, and without the trace of tools. The end-walls +are nine feet high (the sides being lower) and are firmly united by a +strong iron ridge-pole, perhaps fifteen feet long, which is imbedded at +each end in the stone. Other masses of iron lie around unused, in +sheets, bars, and coils, brought with slow labor by the builder from +far below. The whole building was designed to be made of stone and +iron. It is now covered with creeping vines and the debris of the +hillside; but though its construction had been long discontinued when I +saw it, the interior was still kept scrupulously clean through the care +of this modern Solomon, who often visited his shrine. +</P> + +<P> +An arch in the terminal wall admits the visitor to the small roofless +temple, and he sees before him, imbedded in the centre of the floor, a +large smooth block of white marble, where the deed of this spot of land +was to be recorded, in the hope to preserve it even after the globe +should have been burned and renewed. But not a stroke of this +inscription was ever cut, and now the young chestnut boughs droop into +the uncovered interior, and shy forest-birds sing fearlessly among +them, having learned that this house belongs to God, not man. As if to +reassure them, and perhaps in allusion to his own vegetarian habits, +the architect has spread some rough plaster at the head of the +apartment and marked on it in bold characters, "Thou shalt not kill." +Two slabs outside, a little way from the walls, bear these +inscriptions, "Peace on Earth," "Good-Will to Men." When I visited it, +the path was rough and so obstructed with bushes that it was hard to +comprehend how it had afforded passage for these various materials; it +seemed more as if some strange architectural boulder had drifted from +some Runic period and been stranded there. It was as apt a confessional +as any of Wordsworth's nooks among the Trossachs; and when one thinks +how many men are wearing out their souls in trying to conform to the +traditional mythologies of others, it seems nobler in this man to have +reared upon that lonely hill the unfinished memorial of his own. +</P> + +<P> +I recall another path which leads from the Lower Saranac Lake, near +"Martin's," to what the guides call, or used to call, "The +Philosopher's Camp" at Amperzand. On this oddly named lake, in the +Adirondack region, a tract of land was bought by Professor Agassiz and +his friends, who made there a summer camping-ground, and with one +comrade I once sought the spot. I remember with what joy we left the +boat,—so delightful at first, so fatiguing at last; for I cannot, with +Mr. Murray, call it a merit in the Adirondacks that you never have to +walk,—and stepped away into the free forest. We passed tangled swamps, +so dense with upturned trees and trailing mosses that they seemed to +give no opening for any living thing to pass, unless it might be the +soft and silent owl that turned its head almost to dislocation in +watching us, ere it flitted vaguely away. Farther on, the deep, cool +forest was luxurious with plumy ferns; we trod on moss-covered roots, +finding the emerald steps so soft we scarcely knew that we were +ascending; every breath was aromatic; there seemed infinite healing in +every fragrant drop that fell upon our necks from the cedar boughs. We +had what I think the pleasantest guide for a daylight tramp,—one who +has never before passed over that particular route, and can only pilot +you on general principles till he gladly, at last, allows you to pilot +him. When we once got the lead we took him jubilantly on, and beginning +to look for "The Philosopher's Camp," found ourselves confronted by a +large cedar-tree on the margin of a wooded lake. This was plainly the +end of the path. Was the camp then afloat? Our escort was in that state +of hopeless ignorance of which only lost guides are capable. We scanned +the green horizon and the level water, without glimpse of human abode. +It seemed an enchanted lake, and we looked about the tree-trunk for +some fairy horn, that we might blow it. That failing, we tried three +rifle-shots, and out from the shadow of an island, on the instant, +there glided a boat, which bore no lady of the lake, but a red-shirted +woodsman. The artist whom we sought was on that very island, it seemed, +sketching patiently while his guides were driving the deer. +</P> + +<P> +This artist was he whose "Procession of the Pines" had identified his +fame with that delightful forest region. He it was who had laid out +with artistic taste "The Philosopher's Camp," and who was that season +still awaiting philosophers as well as deer. He had been there for a +month, alone with the guides, and declared that Nature was pressing +upon him to an extent that almost drove him wild. His eyes had a +certain remote and questioning look that belongs to imaginative men who +dwell alone. It seemed an impertinence to ask him to come out of his +dream and offer us dinner; but his instincts of hospitality failed not, +and the red-shirted guide was sent to the camp, which was, it seemed, +on the other side of the lake, to prepare our meal, while we bathed. I +am thus particular in speaking of the dinner, not only because such is +the custom of travellers, but also because it was the occasion of an +interlude which I shall never forget. As we were undressing for our +bath upon the lonely island, where the soft, pale water almost lapped +our feet, and the deep, wooded hills made a great amphitheatre for the +lake, our host bethought himself of something neglected in his +instructions. +</P> + +<P> +"Ben!" vociferated he to the guide, now rapidly receding. Ben paused on +his oars. +</P> + +<P> +"Remember to bo-o-oil the venison, Ben!" shouted the pensive artist, +while all the slumbering echoes arose to applaud this culinary +confidence. +</P> + +<P> +"And, Ben!" he added, imploringly, "don't forget the dumplings!" Upon +this, the loons, all down the lake, who had hitherto been silent, took +up the strain with vehemence, hurling their wild laughter at the +presumptuous mortal who thus dared to invade their solitudes with +details as trivial as Mr. Pickwick's tomato-sauce. They repeated it +over and over to each other, till ten square miles of loons must have +heard the news, and all laughed together; never was there such an +audience; they could not get over it, and two hours after, when we had +rowed over to the camp and dinner had been served, this irreverent and +invisible chorus kept bursting out, at all points of the compass, with +scattered chuckles of delight over this extraordinary bill of fare. +Justice compels me to add that the dumplings were made of Indian-meal, +upon a recipe devised by our artist; the guests preferred the venison, +but the host showed a fidelity to his invention that proved him to be +indeed a dweller in an ideal world. +</P> + +<P> +Another path that comes back to memory is the bare trail that we +followed over the prairies of Nebraska, in 1856, when the Missouri +River was held by roving bands from the Slave States, and Freedom had +to seek an overland route into Kansas. All day and all night we rode +between distant prairie-fires, pillars of evening light and of morning +cloud, while sometimes the low grass would burn to the very edge of the +trail, so that we had to hold our breath as we galloped through. +Parties of armed Missourians were sometimes seen over the prairie +swells, so that we had to mount guard at nightfall; Free-State +emigrants, fleeing from persecution, continually met us; and we +sometimes saw parties of wandering Sioux, or passed their great +irregular huts and houses of worship. I remember one desolate prairie +summit on which an Indian boy sat motionless on horseback; his bare red +legs clung closely to the white sides of his horse; a gorgeous sunset +was unrolled behind him, and he might have seemed the last of his race, +just departing for the hunting-grounds of the blest. More often the +horizon showed no human outline, and the sun set cloudless, and +elongated into pear-shaped outlines, as behind ocean-waves. But I +remember best the excitement that filled our breasts when we approached +spots where the contest for a free soil had already been sealed with +blood. In those days, as one went to Pennsylvania to study coal +formations, or to Lake Superior for copper, so one went to Kansas for +men. "Every footpath on this planet," said a rare thinker, "may lead to +the door of a hero," and that trail into Kansas ended rightly at the +tent-door of John Brown. +</P> + +<P> +And later, who that knew them can forget the picket-paths that were +worn throughout the Sea Islands of South Carolina,—paths that wound +along the shores of creeks or through the depths of woods, where the +great wild roses tossed their airy festoons above your head, and the +brilliant lizards glanced across your track, and your horse's ears +suddenly pointed forward and his pace grew uneasy as he snuffed the +presence of something you could not see. At night you had often to ride +from picket to picket in dense darkness, trusting to the horse to find +his way, or sometimes dismounting to feel with your hands for the +track, while the great Southern fire-flies offered their floating +lanterns for guidance, and the hoarse "Chuck-will's-widow" croaked +ominously from the trees, and the great guns of the siege of Charleston +throbbed more faintly than the drumming of a partridge, far away. Those +islands are everywhere so intersected by dikes and ledges and winding +creeks as to form a natural military region, like La Vendee and yet two +plantations that are twenty miles asunder by the road will sometimes be +united by a footpath which a negro can traverse in two hours. These +tracks are limited in distance by the island formation, but they assume +a greater importance as you penetrate the mainland; they then join +great States instead of mere plantations, and if you ask whither one of +them leads, you are told "To Alabama," or "To Tennessee." +</P> + +<P> +Time would fail to tell of that wandering path which leads to the Mine +Mountain near Brattleborough, where you climb the high peak at last, +and perhaps see the showers come up the Connecticut till they patter on +the leaves beneath you, and then, swerving, pass up the black ravine +and leave you unwet. Or of those among the White Mountains, gorgeous +with great red lilies which presently seem to take flight in a cloud of +butterflies that match their tints,—paths where the balsamic air +caresses you in light breezes, and masses of alder-berries rise above +the waving ferns. Or of the paths that lead beside many a little New +England stream, whose bank is lost to sight in a smooth green slope of +grape-vine: the lower shoots rest upon the quiet water, but the upper +masses are crowned by a white wreath of alder-blooms; beside them grow +great masses of wild-roses, and the simultaneous blossoms and berries +of the gaudy nightshade. Or of those winding tracks that lead here and +there among the flat stones of peaceful old graveyards, so entwined +with grass and flowers that every spray of sweetbrier seems to tell +more of life than all the accumulated epitaphs can tell of death. +</P> + +<P> +And when the paths that one has personally traversed are exhausted, +memory holds almost as clearly those which the poets have trodden for +us,—those innumerable by-ways of Shakespeare, each more real than any +high-road in England; or Chaucer's +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Little path I found<BR> + Of mintes full and fennell greene";<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +or Spenser's +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Pathes and alleies wide<BR> + With footing worne";<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +or the path of Browning's "Pippa" +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Down the hillside, up the glen,<BR> + Love me as I love!"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +or the weary tracks by which "Little Nell" wandered; or the haunted way +in Sydney Dobell's ballad, +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Ravelstone, Ravelstone,<BR> + The merry path that leads<BR> + Down the golden morning hills,<BR> + And through the silver meads";<BR> +</P> + +<P> +or the few American paths that genius has yet idealized; that where +Hawthorne's "David Swan" slept, or that which Thoreau found upon the +banks of Walden Pond, or where Whittier parted with his childhood's +playmate on Ramoth Hill. It is not heights, or depths, or spaces that +make the world worth living in; for the fairest landscape needs still +to be garlanded by the imagination,—to become classic with noble deeds +and romantic with dreams. +</P> + +<P> +Go where we please in nature, we receive in proportion as we give. Ivo, +the old Bishop of Chartres, wrote, that "neither the secret depth of +woods nor the tops of mountains make man blessed, if he has not with +him solitude of mind, the sabbath of the heart, and tranquillity of +conscience." There are many roads, but one termination; and Plato says, +in his "Republic," that the point where all paths meet is the soul's +true resting-place and the journey's end. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +The End. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Oldport Days, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLDPORT DAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 2418-h.htm or 2418-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/2418/ + +Produced by Judy Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + +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: Oldport Days + +Author: Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +Posting Date: March 23, 2009 [EBook #2418] +Release Date: December, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLDPORT DAYS *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: I have closed contractions in the text, e.g., "did +n't" becoming "didn't" for example; I have also added the missing +period after "caress" in line 11 of page 61, and have changed "ever" to +"over" in line 16 of page 121. + + + + +OLDPORT DAYS. + + +BY + +THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. + + + + BOSTON: + LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. + NEW YORK: + CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. + 1888. + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, + BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO., + in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + University Press: + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + OLDPORT IN WINTER + OLDPORT WHARVES + THE HAUNTED WINDOW + A DRIFT-WOOD FIRE + AN ARTIST'S CREATION + IN A WHERRY + MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS + SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH + A SHADOW + FOOTPATHS + + + + +OLDPORT DAYS. + + + +OLDPORT IN WINTER. + +Our August life rushes by, in Oldport, as if we were all shot from the +mouth of a cannon, and were endeavoring to exchange visiting-cards on +the way. But in September, when the great hotels are closed, and the +bronze dogs that guarded the portals of the Ocean House are collected +sadly in the music pavilion, nose to nose; when the last four-in-hand +has departed, and a man may drive a solitary horse on the avenue +without a pang,--then we know that "the season" is over. Winter is yet +several months away,--months of the most delicious autumn weather that +the American climate holds. But to the human bird of passage all that +is not summer is winter; and those who seek Oldport most eagerly for +two months are often those who regard it as uninhabitable for the other +ten. + +The Persian poet Saadi says that in a certain region of Armenia, where +he travelled, people never died the natural death. But once a year they +met on a certain plain, and occupied themselves with recreation, in the +midst of which individuals of every rank and age would suddenly stop, +make a reverence to the west, and, setting out at full speed toward +that part of the desert, be seen no more. It is quite in this fashion +that guests disappear from Oldport when the season ends. They also are +apt to go toward the west, but by steamboat. It is pathetic, on +occasion of each annual bereavement, to observe the wonted looks and +language of despair among those who linger behind; and it needs some +fortitude to think of spending the winter near such a Wharf of Sighs. + +But we console ourselves. Each season brings its own attractions. In +summer one may relish what is new in Oldport, as the liveries, the +incomes, the manners. There is often a delicious freshness about these +exhibitions; it is a pleasure to see some opulent citizen in his first +kid gloves. His new-born splendor stands in such brilliant relief +against the confirmed respectability of the "Old Stone Mill," the only +thing on the Atlantic shore which has had time to forget its birthday! +But in winter the Old Mill gives the tone to the society around it; we +then bethink ourselves of the crown upon our Trinity Church steeple, +and resolve that the courtesies of a bygone age shall yet linger here. +Is there any other place in America where gentlemen still take off +their hats to one another on the public promenade? The hat is here what +it still is in Southern Europe,--the lineal successor of the sword as +the mark of a gentleman. It is noticed that, in going from Oldport to +New York or Boston, one is liable to be betrayed by an over-flourish of +the hat, as is an Arkansas man by a display of the bowie-knife. + +Winter also imparts to these spacious estates a dignity that is +sometimes wanting in summer. I like to stroll over them during this +epoch of desertion, just as once, when I happened to hold the keys of a +church, it seemed pleasant to sit, on a week-day, among its empty pews. +The silent walls appeared to hold the pure essence of the prayers of a +generation, while the routine and the ennui had vanished all away. One +may here do the same with fashion as there with devotion, extracting +its finer flavors, if such there be, unalloyed by vulgarity or sin. In +the winter I can fancy these fine houses tenanted by a true nobility; +all the sons are brave, and all the daughters virtuous. These balconies +have heard the sighs of passion without selfishness; those cedarn +alleys have admitted only vows that were never broken. If the occupant +of the house be unknown, even by name, so much the better. And from +homes more familiar, what lovely childish faces seem still to gaze from +the doorways, what graceful Absences (to borrow a certain poet's +phrase) are haunting those windows! + +There is a sense of winter quiet that makes a stranger soon feel at +home in Oldport, while the prospective stir of next summer precludes +all feeling of stagnation. Commonly, in quiet places, one suffers from +the knowledge that everybody would prefer to be unquiet; but nobody has +any such longing here. Doubtless there are aged persons who deplore the +good old times when the Oldport mail-bags were larger than those +arriving at New York. But if it were so now, what memories would there +be to talk about? If you wish for "Syrian peace, immortal leisure,"--a +place where no grown person ever walks rapidly along the street, and +where few care enough for rain to open an umbrella or walk +faster,--come here. + +My abode is on a broad, sunny street, with a few great elms overhead, +and with large old houses and grass-banks opposite. There is so little +snow that the outlook in the depth of winter is often merely that of a +paler and leafless summer, and a soft, springlike sky almost always +spreads above. Past the window streams an endless sunny panorama (for +the house fronts the chief thoroughfare between country and +town),--relics of summer equipages in faded grandeur; great, fragrant +hay-carts; vast moving mounds of golden straw; loads of crimson onions; +heaps of pale green cabbages; piles of gray tree-prunings, looking as +if the patrician trees were sending their superfluous wealth of +branches to enrich the impoverished orchards of the Poor Farm; wagons +of sea-weed just from the beach, with bright, moist hues, and dripping +with sea-water and sea-memories, each weed an argosy, bearing its own +wild histories. At this season, the very houses move, and roll slowly +by, looking round for more lucrative quarters next season. Never have I +seen real estate made so transportable as in Oldport. The purchaser, +after finishing and furnishing to his fancy, puts his name on the door, +and on the fence a large white placard inscribed "For sale". Then his +household arrangements are complete, and he can sit down to enjoy +himself. + +By a side-glance from our window, one may look down an ancient street, +which in some early epoch of the world's freshness received the name of +Spring Street. A certain lively lady, addicted to daring Scriptural +interpretations, thinks that there is some mistake in the current +versions of Genesis, and that it was Spring Street which was created in +the beginning, and the heavens and earth at some subsequent period. +There are houses in Spring Street, and there is a confectioner's shop; +but it is not often that a sound comes across its rugged pavements, +save perchance (in summer) the drone of an ancient hand-organ, such as +might have been devised by Adam to console his Eve when Paradise was +lost. Yet of late the desecrating hammer and the ear-piercing saw have +entered that haunt of ancient peace. May it be long ere any such +invasion reaches those strange little wharves in the lower town, full +of small, black, gambrel-roofed houses, with projecting eaves that +might almost serve for piazzas. It is possible for an unpainted wooden +building to assume, in this climate, a more time-worn aspect than that +of any stone; and on these wharves everything is so old, and yet so +stunted, you might fancy that the houses had been sent down there to +play during their childhood, and that nobody had ever remembered to +fetch them back. + +The ancient aspect of things around us, joined with the softening +influences of the Gulf Stream, imparts an air of chronic languor to the +special types of society which here prevail in winter,--as, for +instance, people of leisure, trades-people living on their summer's +gains, and, finally, fishermen. Those who pursue this last laborious +calling are always lazy to the eye, for they are on shore only in lazy +moments. They work by night or at early dawn, and by day they perhaps +lie about on the rocks, or sit upon one heel beside a fish-house door. +I knew a missionary who resigned his post at the Isles of Shoals +because it was impossible to keep the Sunday worshippers from lying at +full length on the seats. Our boatmen have the same habit, and there is +a certain dreaminess about them, in whatever posture. Indeed, they +remind one quite closely of the German boatman in Uhland, who carried +his reveries so far as to accept three fees from one passenger. + +But the truth is, that in Oldport we all incline to the attitude of +repose. Now and then a man comes here, from farther east, with the New +England fever in his blood, and with a pestilent desire to do +something. You hear of him, presently, proposing that the Town Hall +should be repainted. Opposition would require too much effort, and the +thing is done. But the Gulf Stream soon takes its revenge on the +intruder, and gradually repaints him also, with its own soft and mellow +tints. In a few years he would no more bestir himself to fight for a +change than to fight against it. + +It makes us smile a little, therefore, to observe that universal +delusion among the summer visitors, that we spend all winter in active +preparations for next season. Not so; we all devote it solely to +meditations on the season past. I observe that nobody in Oldport ever +believes in any coming summer. Perhaps the tide is turned, we think, +and people will go somewhere else. You do not find us altering our +houses in December, or building out new piazzas even in March. We wait +till the people have actually come to occupy them. The preparation for +visitors is made after the visitors have arrived. This may not be the +way in which things are done in what are called "smart business +places." But it is our way in Oldport. + +It is another delusion to suppose that we are bored by this long epoch +of inactivity. Not at all; we enjoy it. If you enter a shop in winter, +you will find everybody rejoiced to see you--as a friend; but if it +turns out that you have come as a customer, people will look a little +disappointed. It is rather inconsiderate of you to make such demands +out of season. Winter is not exactly the time for that sort of thing. +It seems rather to violate the conditions of the truce. Could you not +postpone the affair till next July? Every country has its customs; I +observe that in some places, New York for instance, the shopkeepers +seem rather to enjoy a "field-day" when the sun and the customers are +out. In Oldport, on the contrary, men's spirits droop at such times, +and they go through their business sadly. They force themselves to it +during the summer, perhaps,--for one must make some sacrifices,--but in +winter it is inappropriate as strawberries and cream. + +The same spirit of repose pervades the streets. Nobody ever looks in a +hurry, or as if an hour's delay would affect the thing in hand. The +nearest approach to a mob is when some stranger, thinking himself late +for the train (as if the thing were possible), is tempted to run a few +steps along the sidewalk. On such an occasion I have seen doors open, +and heads thrust out. But ordinarily even the physicians drive slowly, +as if they wished to disguise their profession, or to soothe the nerves +of some patient who may be gazing from a window. + +Yet they are not to be censured, since Death, their antagonist, here +drives slowly too. The number of the aged among us is surprising, and +explains some phenomena otherwise strange. You will notice, for +instance, that there are no posts before the houses in Oldport to which +horses may be tied. Fashionable visitors might infer that every horse +is supposed to be attended by a groom. Yet the tradition is, that there +were once as many posts here as elsewhere, but that they were removed +to get rid of the multitude of old men who leaned all day against them. +It obstructed the passing. And these aged citizens, while permitted to +linger at their posts, were gossiping about men still older, in earthly +or heavenly habitations, and the sensation of longevity went on +accumulating indefinitely in their talk. Their very disputes had a +flavor of antiquity, and involved the reputation of female relatives to +the third or fourth generation. An old fisherman testified in our +Police Court, the other day, in narrating the progress of a street +quarrel; "Then I called him 'Polly Garter,'--that's his grandmother; +and he called me 'Susy Reynolds,'--that's my aunt that's dead and gone." + +In towns like this, from which the young men mostly migrate, the work +of life devolves upon the venerable and the very young. When I first +came to Oldport, it appeared to me that every institution was conducted +by a boy and his grandfather. This seemed the case, for instance, with +the bank that consented to assume the slender responsibility of my +deposits. It was further to be observed, that, if the elder official +was absent for a day, the boy carried on the proceedings unaided; while +if the boy also wished to amuse himself elsewhere, a worthy neighbor +from across the way came in to fill the places of both. Seeing this, I +retained my small hold upon the concern with fresh tenacity; for who +knew but some day, when the directors also had gone on a picnic, the +senior depositor might take his turn at the helm? It may savor of +self-confidence, but it has always seemed to me, that, with one day's +control of a bank, even in these degenerate times, something might be +done which would quite astonish the stockholders. + +Longer acquaintance has, however, revealed the fact, that these Oldport +institutions stand out as models of strict discipline beside their +suburban compeers. A friend of mine declares that he went lately into a +country bank, nearby, and found no one on duty. Being of opinion that +there should always be someone behind the counter of a bank, he went +there himself. Wishing to be informed as to the resources of his +establishment, he explored desks and vaults, found a good deal of paper +of different kinds, and some rich veins of copper, but no cashier. +Going to the door again in some anxiety, he encountered a casual +school-boy, who kindly told him that he did not know where the +financial officer might be at the precise moment of inquiry, but that +half an hour before he was on the wharf, fishing. + +Death comes to the aged at last, however, even in Oldport. We have +lately lost, for instance, that patient old postman, serenest among our +human antiquities, whose deliberate tread might have imparted a tone of +repose to Broadway, could any imagination have transferred him thither. +Through him the correspondence of other days came softened of all +immediate solicitude. Ere it reached you, friends had died or +recovered, debtors had repented, creditors grown kind, or your children +had paid your debts. Perils had passed, hopes were chastened, and the +most eager expectant took calmly the missive from that tranquillizing +hand. Meeting his friends and clients with a step so slow that it did +not even stop rapidly, he, like Tennyson's Mariana, slowly + + "From his bosom drew + Old letters." + +But a summons came at last, not to be postponed even by him. One day he +delivered his mail as usual, with no undue precipitation; on the next, +the blameless soul was himself taken and forwarded on some celestial +route. + +Irreparable would have seemed his loss, did there not still linger +among us certain types of human antiquity that might seem to disprove +the fabled youth of America. One veteran I daily meet, of uncertain +age, perhaps, but with at least that air of brevet antiquity which long +years of unruffled indolence can give. He looks as if he had spent at +least half a lifetime on the sunny slope of some beach, and the other +half in leaning upon his elbows at the window of some sailor +boarding-house. He is hale and broad, with a head sunk between two +strong shoulders; his beard falls like snow upon his breast, longer and +longer each year, while his slumberous thoughts seem to move slowly +enough to watch it as it grows. I always fancy that these meditations +have drifted far astern of the times, but are following after, in +patient hopelessness, as a dog swims behind a boat. What knows he of +the President's Message? He has just overtaken some remarkable catch of +mackerel in the year thirty-eight. His hands lie buried fathom-deep in +his pockets, as if part of his brain lay there to be rummaged; and he +sucks at his old pipe as if his head, like other venerable hulks, must +be smoked out at intervals. His walk is that of a sloth, one foot +dragging heavily behind the other. I meet him as I go to the +post-office, and on returning, twenty minutes later, I pass him again, +a little farther advanced. All the children accost him, and I have seen +him stop--no great retardation indeed--to fondle in his arms a puppy or +a kitten. Yet he is liable to excitement, in his way; for once, in some +high debate, wherein he assisted as listener, when one old man on a +wharf was doubting the assertion of another old man about a certain +equinoctial gale, I saw my friend draw his right hand slowly and +painfully from his pocket, and let it fall by his side. It was really +one of the most emphatic gesticulations I ever saw, and tended +obviously to quell the rising discord. It was as if the herald at a +tournament had dropped his truncheon, and the fray must end. + +Women's faces are apt to take from old age a finer touch than those of +men, and poverty does not interfere with this, where there is no actual +exposure to the elements. From the windows of these old houses there +often look forth delicate, faded countenances, to which belongs an air +of unmistakable refinement. Nowhere in America, I fancy, does one see +such counterparts of the reduced gentlewoman of England,--as described, +for instance, in "Cranford,"--quiet maiden ladies of seventy, with +perhaps a tradition of beauty and bellehood, and still wearing always a +bit of blue ribbon on their once golden curls,--this headdress being +still carefully arranged, each day, by some handmaiden of sixty, so +long a house-mate as to seem a sister, though some faint suggestion of +wages and subordination may be still preserved. Among these ladies, as +in "Cranford," there is a dignified reticence in respect to +money-matters, and a courteous blindness to the small economies +practised by each other. It is not held good breeding, when they meet +in a shop of a morning, for one to seem to notice what another buys. + +These ancient ladies have coats of arms upon their walls, hereditary +damasks among their scanty wardrobes, store of domestic traditions in +their brains, and a whole Court Guide of high-sounding names at their +fingers' ends. They can tell you of the supposed sister of an English +queen, who married an American officer and dwelt in Oldport; of the +Scotch Lady Janet, who eloped with her tutor, and here lived in +poverty, paying her washerwoman with costly lace from her trunks; of +the Oldport dame who escaped from France at the opening of the +Revolution, was captured by pirates on her voyage to America, then +retaken by a privateer and carried into Boston, where she took refuge +in John Hancock's house. They can describe to you the Malbone Gardens, +and, as the night wanes and the embers fade, can give the tale of the +Phantom of Rough Point. Gliding farther and farther into the past, they +revert to the brilliant historic period of Oldport, the successive +English and French occupations during our Revolution, and show you +gallant inscriptions in honor of their grandmothers, written on the +window-panes by the diamond rings of the foreign officers. + +The newer strata of Oldport society are formed chiefly by importation, +and have the one advantage of a variety of origin which puts +provincialism out of the question. The mild winter climate and the +supposed cheapness of living draw scattered families from the various +Atlantic cities; and, coming from such different sources, these +visitors leave some exclusiveness behind. The boast of heraldry, the +pomp of power, are doubtless good things to have in one's house, but +are cumbrous to travel with. Meeting here on central ground, partial +aristocracies tend to neutralize each other. A Boston family comes, +bristling with genealogies, and making the most of its little all of +two centuries. Another arrives from Philadelphia, equally fortified in +local heraldries unknown in Boston. + +A third from New York brings a briefer pedigree, but more gilded. Their +claims are incompatible; but there is no common standard, and so +neither can have precedence. Since no human memory can retain the +great-grandmothers of three cities, we are practically as well off as +if we had no great-grandmothers at all. + +But in Oldport, as elsewhere, the spice of conversation is apt to be in +inverse ratio to family tree and income-tax, and one can hear better +repartees among the boat-builders' shops on Long Wharf than among those +who have made the grand tour. All the world over, one is occasionally +reminded of the French officer's verdict on the garrison town where he +was quartered, that the good society was no better than the good +society anywhere else, but the bad society was capital. I like, for +instance, to watch the shoals of fishermen that throng our streets in +the early spring, inappropriate as porpoises on land, or as Scott's +pirates in peaceful Kirkwall,--unwieldy, bearded creatures in oil-skin +suits,--men who have never before seen a basket-wagon or a liveried +groom and, whose first comments on the daintinesses of fashion are far +more racy than anything which fashion can say for itself. + +The life of our own fishermen and pilots remains active, in its way, +all winter; and coasting vessels come and go in the open harbor every +day. The only schooner that is not so employed is, to my eye, more +attractive than any of them; it is our sole winter guest, this year, of +all the graceful flotilla of yachts that helped to make our summer +moonlights so charming. While Europe seems in such ecstasy over the +ocean yacht-race, there lies at anchor, stripped and dismantled, a +vessel which was excluded from the match, it is said, simply because +neither of the three competitors would have had a chance against her. I +like to look across the harbor at the graceful proportions of this +uncrowned victor in the race she never ran; and to my eye her laurels +are the most attractive. She seems a fit emblem of the genius that +waits, while talent merely wins. "Let me know," said that fine, but +unappreciated thinker, Brownlee Brown,--"let me know what chances a man +has passed in contempt; not what he has made, but what he has refused +to make, reserving himself for higher ends." + +All out-door work in winter has a cheerful look, from the triumph of +caloric it implies; but I know none in which man seems to revert more +to the lower modes of being than in searching for seaclams. One may +sometimes observe a dozen men employed in this way, on one of our +beaches, while the cold wind blows keenly off shore, and the spray +drifts back like snow over the green and sluggish surge. The men pace +in and out with the wave, going steadily to and fro like a pendulum, +ankle-deep in the chilly brine, their steps quickened by hope or +slackening with despair. Where the maidens and children sport and shout +in summer, there in winter these heavy figures succeed. To them the +lovely crest of the emerald billow is but a chariot for clams, and is +valueless if it comes in empty. Really, the position of the clam is the +more dignified, since he moves only with the wave, and the immortal +being in fish-boots wades for him. + +The harbor and the beach are thus occupied in winter; but one may walk +for many a mile along the cliffs, and see nothing human but a few +gardeners, spreading green and white sea-weed as manure upon the lawns. +The mercury rarely drops to zero here, and there is little snow; but a +new-fallen drift has just the same virgin beauty as farther inland, and +when one suddenly comes in view of the sea beyond it, there is a +sensation of summer softness. The water is not then deep blue, but +pale, with opaline reflections. Vessels in the far horizon have the +same delicate tint, as if woven of the same liquid material. A single +wave lifts itself languidly above a reef,--a white-breasted loon floats +near the shore,--the sea breaks in long, indolent curves,--the distant +islands swim in a vague mirage. Along the cliffs hang great organ-pipes +of ice, distilling showers of drops that glitter in the noonday sun, +while the barer rocks send up a perpetual steam, giving to the eye a +sense of warmth, and suggesting the comforts of fire. Beneath, the low +tide reveals long stretches of golden-brown sea-weed, caressed by the +lapping wave. + +High winds bring a different scene. Sometimes I fancy that in winter, +with less visible life upon the surface of the water, and less of +unseen animal life below it, there is yet more that seems like vital +force in the individual particles of waves. Each separate drop appears +more charged with desperate and determined life. The lines of surf run +into each other more brokenly, and with less steady roll. The low sun, +too, lends a weird and jagged shadow to gallop in before the crest of +each advancing wave, and sometimes there is a second crest on the +shoulders of the first, as if there were more than could be contained +in a single curve. Greens and purples are called forth to replace the +prevailing blue. Far out at sea, great separate mounds of water rear +themselves, as if to overlook the tossing plain. Sometimes these move +onward and subside with their green hue still unbroken, and again they +curve into detached hillocks of foam, white, multitudinous, side by +side, not ridged, but moving on like a mob of white horses, neck +overarching neck, breast crowded against breast. + +Across those tumultuous waves I like to watch, after sunset, the +revolving light; there is something about it so delicate and human. It +seems to bud or bubble out of the low, dark horizon; a moment, and it +is not, and then another moment, and it is. With one throb the +tremulous light is born; with another throb it has reached its full +size, and looks at you, coy and defiant; and almost in that instant it +is utterly gone. You cannot conceive yourself to be watching something +which merely turns on an axis; but it seems suddenly to expand, a +flower of light, or to close, as if soft petals of darkness clasped it +in. During its moments of absence, the eye cannot quite keep the memory +of its precise position, and it often appears a hair-breadth to the +right or left of the expected spot. This enhances the elfish and +fantastic look, and so the pretty game goes on, with flickering +surprises, every night and all night long. But the illusion of the +seasons is just as coquettish; and when next summer comes to us, with +its blossoms and its joys, it will dawn as softly out of the darkness +and as softly give place to winter once more. + + + +OLDPORT WHARVES. + +Everyone who comes to a wharf feels an impulse to follow it down, and +look from the end. There is a fascination about it. It is the point of +contact between land and sea. A bridge evades the water, and unites +land with land, as if there were no obstacle. But a wharf seeks the +water, and grasps it with a solid hand. It is the sign of a lasting +friendship; once extended, there it remains; the water embraces it, +takes it into its tumultuous bosom at high tide, leaves it in peace at +ebb, rushes back to it eagerly again, plays with it in sunshine, surges +round it in storm, almost crushing the massive thing. But the pledge +once given is never withdrawn. Buildings may rise and fall, but a solid +wharf is almost indestructible. Even if it seems destroyed, its +materials are all there. This shore might be swept away, these piers be +submerged or dashed asunder, still every brick and stone would remain. +Half the wharves of Oldport were ruined in the great storm of 1815. Yet +not one of them has stirred from the place where it lay; its +foundations have only spread more widely and firmly; they are a part of +the very pavement of the harbor, submarine mountain ranges, on one of +which yonder schooner now lies aground. Thus the wild ocean only +punished itself, and has been embarrassed for half a century, like many +another mad profligate, by the wrecks of what it ruined. + +Yet the surges are wont to deal very tenderly with these wharves. In +summer the sea decks them with floating weeds, and studs them with an +armor of shells. In the winter it surrounds them with a smoother mail +of ice, and the detached piles stand white and gleaming, like the +out-door palace of a Russian queen. How softly and eagerly this coming +tide swirls round them! All day the fishes haunt their shadows; all +night the phosphorescent water glimmers by them, and washes with long, +refluent waves along their sides, decking their blackness with a spray +of stars. + +Water seems the natural outlet and discharge for every landscape, and +when we have followed down this artificial promontory, a wharf, and +have seen the waves on three sides of us, we have taken the first step +toward circumnavigating the globe. This is our last terra firma. One +step farther, and there is no possible foothold but a deck, which tilts +and totters beneath our feet. A wharf, therefore, is properly neutral +ground for all. It is a silent hospitality, understood by all nations. +It is in some sort a thing of universal ownership. Having once built +it, you must grant its use to everyone; it is no trespass to land upon +any man's wharf. + +The sea, like other beautiful savage creatures, derives most of its +charm from its reserves of untamed power. When a wild animal is subdued +to abjectness, all its interest is gone. The ocean is never thus +humiliated. So slight an advance of its waves would overwhelm us, if +only the restraining power once should fail, and the water keep on +rising! Even here, in these safe haunts of commerce, we deal with the +same salt tide which I myself have seen ascend above these piers, and +which within half a century drowned a whole family in their home upon +our Long Wharf. + +It is still the same ungoverned ocean which, twice in every twenty-four +hours, reasserts its right of way, and stops only where it will. At +Monckton, on the Bay of Fundy, the wharves are built forty feet high, +and at ebb-tide you may look down on the schooners lying aground upon +the mud below. In six hours they will be floating at your side. But the +motions of the tide are as resistless whether its rise be six feet or +forty; as in the lazy stretching of the caged lion's paw you can see +all the terrors of his spring. + +Our principal wharf, the oldest in the town, has lately been doubled in +size, and quite transformed in shape, by an importation of broad acres +from the country. It is now what is called "made land,"--a manufacture +which has grown so easy that I daily expect to see some enterprising +contractor set up endwise a bar of railroad iron, and construct a new +planet at its summit, which shall presently go spinning off into space +and be called an asteroid. There are some people whom would it be +pleasant to colonize in that way; but meanwhile the unchanged southern +side of the pier seems pleasanter, with its boat-builders' shops, all +facing sunward,--a cheerful haunt upon a winter's day. On the early +maps this wharf appears as "Queen-Hithe," a name more graceful than its +present cognomen. "Hithe" or "Hythe" signifies a small harbor, and is +the final syllable of many English names, as of Lambeth. Hythe is also +one of those Cinque-Ports of which the Duke of Wellington was warden. +This wharf was probably still familiarly called Queen-Hithe in 1781, +when Washington and Rochambeau walked its length bareheaded between the +ranks of French soldiers; and it doubtless bore that name when Dean +Berkeley arrived in 1729, and the Rev. Mr. Honyman and all his flock +closed hastily their prayer-books, and hastened to the landing to +receive their guest. But it had lost this name ere the days, yet +remembered by aged men, when the Long Wharf became a market. Beeves +were then driven thither and tethered, while each hungry applicant +marked with a piece of chalk upon the creature's side the desired cut; +when a sufficient portion had been thus secured, the sentence of death +was issued. Fancy the chalk a live coal, or the beast endowed with +human consciousness, and no Indian, or Inquisitorial tortures could +have been more fearful. + +It is like visiting the houses at Pompeii, to enter the strange little +black warehouses which cover some of our smaller wharves. They are so +old and so small it seems as if some race of pygmies must have built +them. Though they are two or three stories high, with steep +gambrel-roofs, and heavily timbered, their rooms are yet so low that a +man six feet high can hardly stand upright beneath the great +cross-beams. There is a row of these structures, for instance, +described on a map of 1762 as "the old buildings on Lopez' Wharf," and +to these another century has probably brought very little change. Lopez +was a Portuguese Jew, who came to this place, with several hundred +others, after the Lisbon earthquake of 1755. He is said to have owned +eighty square-rigged vessels in this port, from which not one such +craft now sails. His little counting-room is in the second storey of +the building; its wall-timbers are of oak, and are still sound; the few +remaining planks are grained to resemble rosewood and mahogany; the +fragments of wall-paper are of English make. In the cross-beam, just +above your head, are the pigeon-holesonce devoted to different vessels, +whose names are still recorded above them on faded paper,--"Ship +Cleopatra," "Brig Juno," and the like. Many of these vessels measured +less than two hundred tons, and it seems as if their owner had built +his ships to match the size of his counting-room. + +A sterner tradition clings around an old building on a remoter wharf; +for men have but lately died who had seen slaves pass within its doors +for confinement. The wharf in those days appertained to a distillery, +an establishment then constantly connected with the slave-trade, rum +being sent to Africa, and human beings brought back. Occasionally a +cargo was landed here, instead of being sent to the West Indies or to +South Carolina, and this building was fitted up for their temporary +quarters. It is but some twenty-five feet square, and must be less than +thirty feet in height, yet it is divided into three stories, of which +the lowest was used for other purposes, and the two upper were reserved +for slaves. There are still to be seen the barred partitions and +latticed door, making half the second floor into a sort of cage, while +the agent's room appears to have occupied the other half. A similar +latticed door--just such as I have seen in Southern slave-pens--secures +the foot of the upper stairway. The whole small attic constitutes a +single room, with a couple of windows, and two additional +breathing-holes, two feet square, opening on the yard. It makes one +sick to think of the poor creatures who may once have gripped those +bars with their hands, or have glared with eager eyes between them; and +it makes me recall with delight the day when I once wrenched away the +stocks and chains from the floor of a pen like this, on the St. Mary's +River in Florida. It is almost forty years since this distillery became +a mill, and sixty since the slave-trade was abolished. The date "1803" +is scrawled upon the door of the cage,--the very year when the port of +Charleston was reopened for slaves, just before the traffic ceased. A +few years more, and such horrors will seem as remote a memory in South +Carolina, thank God! as in Rhode Island. + +Other wharves are occupied by mast-yards, places that seem like +play-rooms for grown men, crammed fuller than any old garret with those +odds and ends in which the youthful soul delights. There are planks and +spars and timber, broken rudders, rusty anchors, coils of rope, bales +of sail-cloth, heaps of blocks, piles of chain-cable, great iron +tar-kettles like antique helmets, strange machines for steaming planks, +inexplicable little chimneys, engines that seem like dwarf-locomotives, +windlasses that apparently turn nothing, and incipient canals that lead +nowhere. For in these yards there seems no particular difference +between land and water; the tide comes and goes anywhere, and nobody +minds it; boats are drawn up among burdocks and ambrosia, and the +platform on which you stand suddenly proves to be something afloat. +Vessels are hauled upon the ways, each side of the wharf, their poor +ribs pitiably unclothed, ready for a cumbrous mantua-making of oak and +iron. On one side, within a floating boom, lies a fleet of masts and +unhewn logs, tethered uneasily, like a herd of captive sea-monsters, +rocking in the ripples. A vast shed, that has doubtless looked ready to +fall for these dozen years spreads over, half the entrance to the +wharf, and is filled with spars, knee-timber, and planks of fragrant +wood; its uprights are festooned with all manner of great hawsers and +smaller ropes, and its dim loft is piled with empty casks and idle +sails. The sun always seems to shine in a ship-yard; there are apt to +be more loungers than laborers, and this gives a pleasant air of +repose; the neighboring water softens all harsher sounds, the foot +treads upon an elastic carpet of embedded chips, and pleasant resinous +odors are in the air. + +Then there are wharves quite abandoned by commerce, and given over to +small tenements, filled with families so abundant that they might +dispel the fears of those alarmists who suspect that children are +ceasing to be born. Shrill voices resound there--American or Irish, as +the case may be--through the summer noontides; and the domestic +clothes-line forever stretches across the paths where imported slaves +once trod, or rich merchandise lay piled. Some of these abodes are +nestled in the corners of houses once stately, with large windows and +carven doorways. Others occupy separate buildings, almost always of +black, unpainted wood, sometimes with the long, sloping roof of +Massachusetts, oftener with the quaint "gambrel" of Rhode Island. From +the busiest point of our main street, I can show you a single cottage, +with low gables, projecting eaves, and sheltering sweetbrier, that +seems as if it must have strayed hither, a century or two ago, out of +some English lane. + +Some of the more secluded wharves appear wholly deserted by men and +women, and are tenanted alone by rats and boys,--two amphibious races; +either can swim anywhere, or scramble and penetrate everywhere. The +boys launch some abandoned skiff, and, with an oar for a sail and +another for a rudder, pass from wharf to wharf; nor would it be +surprising if the bright-eyed rats were to take similar passage on a +shingle. Yet, after all, the human juveniles are the more sagacious +brood. It is strange that people should go to Europe, and seek the +society of potentates less imposing, when home can endow them with the +occasional privilege of a nod from an American boy. In these +sequestered haunts, I frequently meet some urchin three feet high who +carries with him an air of consummate worldly experience that +completely overpowers me, and I seem to shrink to the dimensions of Tom +Thumb. Before his calm and terrible glance all disguises fail. You may +put on a bold and careless air, and affect to overlook him as you pass; +but it is like assuming to ignore the existence of the Pope of Rome, or +of the London Times. He knows better. Grown men are never very +formidable; they are shy and shamefaced themselves, usually +preoccupied, and not very observing. If they see a man loitering about, +without visible aim, they class him as a mild imbecile, and let him go; +but boys are nature's detectives, and one does not so easily evade +their scrutinizing eyes. I know full well that, while I study their +ways, they are noting mine through a clearer lens, and are probably +taking my measure far better than I take theirs. One instinctively +shrinks from making a sketch or memorandum while they are by; and if +caught in the act, one fondly hopes to pass for some harmless +speculator in real estate, whose pencillings may be only a matter of +habit, like those casual sums in compound interest which are usually to +be found scrawled on the margins of the daily papers in Boston +reading-rooms. + +Our wharves are almost all connected by intricate by-ways among the +buildings; and one almost wishes to be a pirate or a smuggler, for the +pleasure of eluding the officers of justice through such seductive +paths. It is, perhaps, to counteract this perilous fascination that our +new police-office has been established on a wharf. You will see its +brick tower rising not ungracefully, as you enter the inner harbor; it +looks the better for being almost windowless, though beauty was not the +aim of the omission. A curious stranger is said to have asked one of +our city fathers the reason of this peculiarity. "No use in windows," +said the experienced official sadly; "the boys would only break 'em." +It seems very unjust to assert that there is no subordination in our +American society; the citizens show deference to the police, and the +police to the boys. + +The ancient aspect of these wharves extends itself sometimes to the +vessels which lie moored beside them. At yonder pier, for instance, has +lain for thirteen years a decaying bark, which was suspected of being +engaged in the slave-trade. She was run ashore and abandoned on Block +Island, in the winter of 1854, and was afterwards brought in here. Her +purchaser was offered eight thousand dollars for his bargain, but +refused it; and here the vessel has remained, paying annual wharf dues +and charges, till she is worthless. She lies chained at the wharf, and +the tide rises and falls within her, thus furnishing a convenient +bathing-house for the children, who also find a perpetual gymnasium in +the broken shrouds that dangle from her masts. Turner, when he painted +his "slave-ship," could have asked no better model. There is no name +upon the stern, and it exhibits merely a carved eagle, with the wings +clipped and the head knocked off. Only the lower masts remain, which +are of a dismal black, as are the tops and mizzen cross-trees. Within +the bulwarks, on each side, stand rows of black blocks, to which the +shrouds were once attached; these blocks are called by sailors +"dead-eyes," and each stands in weird mockery, with its three ominous +holes, like so many human skulls before some palace in Dahomey. Other +blocks like these swing more ominously yet at the ends of the shrouds, +that still hang suspended, waving and creaking and jostling in the +wind. Each year the ropes decay, and soon the repulsive pendants will +be gone. Not so with the iron belaying-pins, a few of which still stand +around the mast, so rusted into the iron fife-rail that even the +persevering industry of the children cannot wrench them out. It seems +as if some guilty stain must cling to their sides, and hold them in. By +one of those fitnesses which fortune often adjusts, but which seem +incredible in art, the wharf is now used on one side for the storage of +slate, and the hulk is approached through an avenue of gravestones. I +never find myself in that neighborhood but my steps instinctively seek +that condemned vessel, whether by day, when she makes a dark foreground +for the white yachts and the summer waves, or by night, when the storm +breaks over her desolate deck. + +If we follow northward from "Queen-Hithe" along the shore, we pass into +a region where the ancient wharves of commerce, ruined in 1815, have +never been rebuilt; and only slender pathways for pleasure voyagers now +stretch above the submerged foundations. Once the court end of the +town, then its commercial centre, it is now divided between the +tenements of fishermen and the summer homes of city households. Still +the great old houses remain, with mahogany stairways, carved +wainscoting, and painted tiles; the sea has encroached upon their +gardens, and only boats like mine approach where English dukes and +French courtiers once landed. At the head of yonder private wharf, in +that spacious and still cheerful abode, dwelt the beautiful Robinson +sisterhood,--the three Quaker belles of Revolutionary days, the memory +of whose loves might lend romance to this neighborhood forever. One of +these maidens was asked in marriage by a captain in the English army, +and was banished by her family to the Narragansett shore, under a flag +of truce, to avoid him; her lover was afterward killed by a +cannon-ball, in his tent, and she died unwedded. Another was sought by +two aspirants, who came in the same ship to woo her, the one from +Philadelphia, the other from New York. She refused them both, and they +sailed southward together; but, the wind proving adverse, they +returned, and one lingered till he won her hand. Still another lover +was forced into a vessel by his friends, to tear him from the enchanted +neighborhood; while sailing past the house, he suddenly threw himself +into the water,--it must have been about where the end of the wharf now +rests,--that he might be rescued, and carried, a passive Leander, into +yonder door. The house was first the head-quarters of the English +commander, then of the French; and the sentinels of De Noailles once +trod where now croquet-balls form the heaviest ordnance. Peaceful and +untitled guests now throng in summer where St. Vincents and +Northumberlands once rustled and glittered; and there is nothing to +recall those brilliant days except the painted tiles on the chimney, +where there is a choice society of coquettes and beaux, priests and +conjurers, beggars and dancers, and every wig and hoop dates back to +the days of Queen Anne. + +Sometimes when I stand upon this pier by night, and look across the +calm black water, so still, perhaps, that the starry reflections seem +to drop through it in prolonged javelins of light instead of resting on +the surface, and the opposite lighthouse spreads its cloth of gold +across the bay,--I can imagine that I discern the French and English +vessels just weighing anchor; I see De Lauzun and De Noailles +embarking, and catch the last sheen upon their lace, the last glitter +of their swords. It vanishes, and I see only the lighthouse gleam, and +the dark masts of a sunken ship across the neighboring island. Those +motionless spars have, after all, a nearer interest, and, as I saw them +sink, I will tell their tale. + +That vessel came in here one day last August, a stately, full-sailed +bark; nor was it known, till she had anchored, that she was a mass of +imprisoned fire below. She was the "Trajan," from Rockland, bound to +New Orleans with a cargo of lime, which took fire in a gale of wind, +being wet with sea-water as the vessel rolled. The captain and crew +retreated to the deck, and made the hatches fast, leaving even their +clothing and provisions below. They remained on deck, after reaching +this harbor, till the planks grew too hot beneath their feet, and the +water came boiling from the pumps. Then the vessel was towed into a +depth of five fathoms, to be scuttled and sunk. I watched her go down. +Early impressions from "Peter Parley" had portrayed the sinking of a +vessel as a frightful plunge, endangering all around, like a maelstrom. +The actual process was merely a subsidence so calm and gentle that a +child might have stood upon the deck till it sank beneath him, and then +might have floated away. Instead of a convulsion, it was something +stately and very pathetic to the imagination. The bark remained almost +level, the bows a little higher than the stern; and her breath appeared +to be surrendered in a series of pulsations, as if every gasp of the +lungs admitted more of the suffocating wave. After each long heave, she +went visibly a few inches deeper, and then paused. The face of the +benign Emperor, her namesake, was on the stern; first sank the carven +beard, then the rather mutilated nose, then the white and staring eyes, +that gazed blankly over the engulfing waves. The figure-head was Trajan +again, at full length, with the costume of an Indian hunter, and the +face of a Roman sage; this image lingered longer, and then vanished, +like Victor Hugo's Gilliatt, by cruel gradations. Meanwhile the gilded +name upon the taffrail had slowly disappeared also; but even when the +ripples began to meet across her deck, still her descent was calm. As +the water gained, the hidden fire was extinguished, and the smoke, at +first densely rising, grew rapidly less. Yet when it had stopped +altogether, and all but the top of the cabin had disappeared, there +came a new ebullition of steam, like a hot spring, throwing itself +several feet in air, and then ceasing. + +As the vessel went down, several beams and planks came springing +endwise up the hatchway, like liberated men. But nothing had a stranger +look to me than some great black casks which had been left on deck. +These, as the water floated them, seemed to stir and wake, and to +become gifted with life, and then got into motion and wallowed heavily +about, like hippopotami or any unwieldy and bewildered beasts. At last +the most enterprising of them slid somehow to the bulwark, and, after +several clumsy efforts, shouldered itself over; then others bounced +out, eagerly following, as sheep leap a wall, and then they all went +bobbing away, over the dancing waves. For the wind blew fresh +meanwhile, and there were some twenty sail-boats lying-to with reefed +sails by the wreck, like so many sea-birds; and when the loose stuff +began to be washed from the deck, they all took wing at once, to save +whatever could be picked up,--since at such times, as at a +conflagration on land, every little thing seems to assume a value,--and +at last one young fellow steered boldly up to the sinking ship itself, +sprang upon the vanishing taffrail for one instant, as if resolved to +be the last on board, and then pushed off again. I never saw anything +seem so extinguished out of the universe as that great vessel, which +had towered so colossal above my little boat; it was impossible to +imagine that she was all there yet, beneath the foaming and indifferent +waves. No effort has yet been made to raise her; and a dead eagle seems +to have more in common with the living bird than has now this submerged +and decaying hulk with the white and winged creature that came sailing +into our harbor on that summer day. + +It shows what conversational resources are always at hand in a seaport +town, that the boatman with whom I first happened to visit this burning +vessel had been thrice at sea on ships similarly destroyed, and could +give all the particulars of their fate. I know no class of uneducated +men whose talk is so apt to be worth hearing as that of sailors. Even +apart from their personal adventures and their glimpses at foreign +lands, they have made observations of nature which are far more careful +and minute than those of farmers, because the very lives of sailors are +always at risk. Their voyages have also made them sociable and fond of +talk, while the pursuits of most men tend to make them silent; and +their constant changes of scene, though not touching them very deeply, +have really given a certain enlargement to their minds. A quiet +demeanor in a seaport town proves nothing; the most inconspicuous man +may have the most thrilling career to look back upon. With what a +superb familiarity do these men treat this habitable globe! Cape Horn +and the Cape of Good Hope are in their phrase but the West Cape and the +East Cape, merely two familiar portals of their wonted home. With what +undisguised contempt they speak of the enthusiasm displayed over the +ocean yacht-race! That any man should boast of crossing the Atlantic in +a schooner of two hundred tons, in presence of those who have more than +once reached the Indian Ocean in a fishing-smack of fifty, and have +beaten in the homeward race the ships in whose company they sailed! It +is not many years since there was here a fishing-skipper, whose surname +was "Daredevil," and who sailed from this port to all parts of the +world, on sealing voyages, in a sloop so small that she was popularly +said to go under water when she got outside the lights, and never to +reappear until she reached her port. + +And not only those who sail on long voyages, but even our local pilots +and fishermen, still lead an adventurous and untamed life, less +softened than any other by the appliances of modern days. In their +undecked boats they hover day and night along these stormy coasts, and +at any hour the beating of the long-roll upon the beach may call their +full manhood into action. Cowardice is sifted and crushed out from +among them by a pressure so constant; and they are withal truthful and +steady in their ways, with few vices and many virtues. They are born +poor, and remain poor, for their work is hard, with more blanks than +prizes; but their life is a life for a man, and though it makes them +prematurely old, yet their old age comes peacefully and well. In almost +all pursuits the advance of years brings something forlorn. It is not +merely that the body decays, but that men grow isolated and are pushed +aside; there is no common interest between age and youth. The old +farmer leads a lonely existence, and ceases to meet his compeers except +on Sunday; nobody consults him; his experience has been monotonous, and +his age is apt to grow unsocial. The old mechanic finds his tools and +his methods superseded by those of younger men. But the superannuated +fisherman graduates into an oracle; the longer he lives, the greater +the dignity of his experience; he remembers the great storm, the great +tide, the great catch, the great shipwreck; and on all emergencies his +counsel has weight. He still busies himself about the boats too, and +still sails on sunny days to show the youngsters the best +fishing-ground. When too infirm for even this, he can at least sun +himself beside the landing, and, dreaming over inexhaustible memories, +watch the bark of his own life go down. + + + +THE HAUNTED WINDOW. + +It was always a mystery to me where Severance got precisely his +combination of qualities. His father was simply what is called a +handsome man, with stately figure and curly black hair, not without a +certain dignity of manner, but with a face so shallow that it did not +even seem to ripple, and with a voice so prosy that, when he spoke of +the sky, you wished there were no such thing. His mother was a fair, +little, pallid creature,--wash-blond, as they say of lace,--patient, +meek, and always fatigued and fatiguing. But Severance, as I first knew +him, was the soul of activity. He had dark eyes, that had a great deal +of light in them, without corresponding depth; his hair was dark, +straight, and very soft; his mouth expressed sweetness, without much +strength; he talked well; and though he was apt to have a wandering +look, as if his thoughts were laying a submarine cable to another +continent, yet the young girls were always glad to have the semblance +of conversation with him in this. To me he was in the last degree +lovable. He had just enough of that subtile quality called genius, +perhaps, to spoil first his companions, and then himself. His words had +weight with you, though you might know yourself wiser; and if you went +to give him the most reasonable advice, you were suddenly seized with a +slight paralysis of the tongue. Thus it was, at any rate, with me. We +were cemented therefore by the firmest ties,--a nominal seniority on my +part, and a substantial supremacy on his. + +We lodged one summer at an old house in that odd suburb of Oldport +called "The Point." It is a sort of Artists' Quarter of the town, +frequented by a class of summer visitors more addicted to sailing and +sketching than to driving and bowing,--persons who do not object to +simple fare, and can live, as one of them said, on potatoes and Point. +Here Severance and I made our summer home, basking in the delicious +sunshine of the lovely bay. The bare outlines around Oldport sometimes +dismay the stranger, but soon fascinate. Nowhere does one feel bareness +so little, because there is no sharpness of perspective; everything +shimmers in the moist atmosphere; the islands are all glamour and +mirage; and the undulating hills of the horizon seem each like the +soft, arched back of some pet animal, and you long to caress them with +your hand. At last your thoughts begin to swim also, and pass into +vague fancies, which you also love to caress. Severance and I were +constantly afloat, body and mind. He was a perfect sailor, and had that +dreaminess in his nature which matches with nothing but the ripple of +the waves. Still, I could not hide from myself that he was a changed +man since that voyage in search of health from which he had just +returned. His mother talked in her humdrum way about heart disease; and +his father, taking up the strain, bored us about organic lesions, till +we almost wished he had a lesion himself. Severance ridiculed all this; +but he grew more and more moody, and his eyes seemed to be laying more +submarine cables than ever. + +When we were not on the water, we both liked to mouse about the queer +streets and quaint old houses of that region, and to chat with the +fishermen and their grandmothers. There was one house, however, which +was very attractive to me,--perhaps because nobody lived in it, and +which, for that or some other reason, he never would approach. It was a +great square building of rough gray stone, looking like those sombre +houses which everyone remembers in Montreal, but which are rare in "the +States." It had been built many years before by some millionnaire from +New Orleans, and was left unfinished, nobody knew why, till the garden +was a wilderness of bloom, and the windows of ivy. Oldport is the only +place in New England where either ivy or traditions will grow; there +were, to be sure, no legends about this house that I could hear of, for +the ghosts in those parts were feeble-minded and retrospective by +reason of age, and perhaps scorned a mansion where nobody had ever +lived; but the ivy clustered round the projecting windows as densely as +if it had the sins of a dozen generations to hide. + +The house stood just above what were commonly called (from their slaty +color) the Blue Rocks; it seemed the topmost pebble left by some tide +that had receded,--which perhaps it was. Nurses and children thronged +daily to these rocks, during the visitors' season, and the fishermen +found there a favorite lounging-place; but nobody scaled the wall of +the house save myself, and I went there very often. The gate was +sometimes opened by Paul, the silent Bavarian gardener, who was master +of the keys; and there were also certain great cats that were always +sunning themselves on the steps, and seemed to have grown old and gray +in waiting for mice that had never come. They looked as if they knew +the past and the future. If the owl is the bird of Minerva, the cat +should be her beast; they have the same sleepy air of unfathomable +wisdom. There was such a quiet and potent spell about the place that +one could almost fancy these constant animals to be the transformed +bodies of human visitors who had stayed too long. Who knew what tales +might be told by these tall, slender birches, clustering so closely by +the sombre walls?--birches which were but whispering shrubs when the +first gray stones were laid, and which now reared above the eaves their +white stems and dark boughs, still whispering and waiting till a few +more years should show them, across the roof, the topmost blossoms of +other birches on the other side. + +Before the great western doorway spread the outer harbor, whither the +coasting vessels came to drop anchor at any approach of storm. These +silent visitors, which arrived at dusk and went at dawn, and from which +no boat landed, seemed fitting guests before the portals of the silent +house. I was never tired of watching them from the piazza; but +Severance always stayed outside the wall. It was a whim of his, he +said; and once only I got out of him something about the resemblance of +the house to some Portuguese mansion,--at Madeira, perhaps, or at Rio +Janeiro, but he did not say,--with which he had no pleasant +associations. Yet he afterwards seemed to wish to deny this remark, or +to confuse my impressions of it, which naturally fixed it the better in +my mind. + +I remember well the morning when he was at last coaxed into approaching +the house. It was late in September, and a day of perfect calm. As we +looked from the broad piazza, there was a glassy smoothness over all +the bay, and the hills were coated with a film, or rather a mere +varnish, inconceivably thin, of haze more delicate than any other +climate in America can show. Over the water there were white gulls +flying, lazy and low; schools of young mackerel displayed their white +sides above the surface; and it seemed as if even a butterfly might be +seen for miles over that calm expanse. The bay was covered with +mackerel-boats, and one man sculled indolently across the foreground a +scarlet skiff. It was so still that every white sail-boat rested where +its sail was first spread; and though the tide was at half-ebb, the +anchored boats swung idly different ways from their moorings. Yet there +was a continuous ripple in the broad sail of some almost motionless +schooner, and there was a constant melodious plash along the shore. +From the mouth of the bay came up slowly the premonitory line of bluer +water, and we knew that a breeze was near. + +Severance seemed to rise in spirits as we approached the house, and I +noticed no sign of shrinking, except an occasional lowering of the +voice. Seeing this, I ventured to joke him a little on his previous +reluctance, and he replied in the same strain. I seated myself at the +corner, and began sketching old Fort Louis, while he strolled along the +piazza, looking in at the large, vacant windows. As he approached the +farther end, I suddenly heard him give a little cry of amazement or +dismay, and, looking up, saw him leaning against the wall, with pale +face and hands clenched. + +A minute sometimes appears a long while; and though I sprang to him +instantly, yet I remember that it seemed as if, during that instant, +the whole face of things had changed. The breeze had come, the bay was +rippled, the sail-boats careened to the wind, fishes and birds were +gone, and a dark gray cloud had come between us and the sun. Such +sudden changes are not, however, uncommon after an interval of calm; +and my only conscious thought at the time was of wonder at the strange +aspect of my companion. + +"What was that?" asked Severance in a bewildered tone. I looked about +me, equally puzzled. "Not there," he said. "In the window." + +I looked in at the window, saw nothing, and said so. There was the +great empty drawing-room, across which one could see the opposite +window, and through this the eastern piazza and the garden beyond. +Nothing more was there. With some persuasion, Severance was induced to +look in. He admitted that he saw nothing peculiar; but he refused all +explanation, and we went home. + +"Never let me go to that house again," he said abruptly, as we entered +our own door. + +I pointed out to him the absurdity of thus yielding to a nervous +delusion, which was already in part conquered, and he finally promised +to revisit the scene with me the next day. To clear all possible +misgivings from my own mind, I got the key of the house from Paul, +explored it thoroughly, and was satisfied that no improper visitor had +recently entered the drawing-room at least, as the windows were +strongly bolted on the inside, and a large cobweb, heavy with dust, +hung across the doorway. This did no great credit to Paul's +stewardship, but was, perhaps, a slight relief to me. Nor could I see a +trace of anything uncanny outside the house. When Severance went with +me, next day, the coast was equally clear, and I was glad to have cured +him so easily. + +Unfortunately, it did not last. A few days after, there was a brilliant +sunset, after a storm, with gorgeous yellow light slanting everywhere, +and the sun looking at us between bars of dark purple cloud, edged with +gold where they touched the pale blue sky; all this fading at last into +a great whirl of gray to the northward, with a cold purple ground. At +the height of the show, I climbed the wall to my favorite piazza, and +was surprised to find Severance already there. + +He sat facing the sunset, but with his head sunk between his hands. At +my approach, he looked up, and rose to his feet. "Do not deceive me any +more," he said, almost savagely, and pointed to the window. + +I looked in, and must confess that, for a moment, I too was startled. +There was a perceptible moment of time during which it seemed as if no +possible philosophy could explain what appeared in sight. Not that any +object showed itself within the great drawing-room, but I distinctly +saw--across the apartment, and through the opposite window--the dark +figure of a man about my own size, who leaned against the long window, +and gazed intently on me. Above him spread the yellow sunset light, +around him the birch-boughs hung and the ivy-tendrils swayed, while +behind him there appeared a glimmering water-surface, across which +slowly drifted the tall masts of a schooner. It looked strangely like a +view I had seen of some foreign harbor,--Amalfi, perhaps,--with a +vine-clad balcony and a single human figure in the foreground. So real +and startling was the sight that at first it was not easy to resolve +the whole scene into its component parts. Yet it was simply such a +confused mixture of real and reflected images as one often sees from +the window of a railway carriage, where the mirrored interior seems to +glide beside the train, with the natural landscape for a background. In +this case, also, the frame and foliage of the picture were real, and +all else was reflected; the sunlit bay behind us was reproduced as in a +camera, and the dark figure was but the full-length image of myself. + +It was easy to explain all this to Severance, but he shook his head. +"So cool a philosopher as yourself," he said, "should remember that +this image is not always visible. At our last visit, we looked for it +in vain. When we first saw it, it appeared and disappeared within ten +minutes. On your mechanical theory it should be other-wise." + +This staggered me for a moment. Then the ready solution occurred, that +the reflection depended on the strength and direction of the light; and +I proved to him that, in our case, it had appeared and disappeared with +the sunshine. He was silenced, but evidently not convinced; yet time +and common-sense, it seemed, would take care of that. + +Soon after all this, I was called out of town for a week or two. If +Severance would go with me, it would doubtless complete the cure, I +thought; but this he obstinately declined. After my departure, my +sister wrote, he seemed absolutely to haunt the empty house by the Blue +Rocks. He undoubtedly went here to sketch, she thought. The house was +in charge of a real-estate agent,--a retired landscape-painter, whose +pictures did not sell so profitably as their originals; and her theory +was, that this agent hoped to make our friend buy the place, and so +allured him there under pretence of sketching. Moreover, she surmised, +he was studying some effect of shadow, because, unlike most men, he +appeared in decent spirits only on cloudy days. It is always so easy to +fit a man out with a set of ready-made motives! But I drew my own +conclusions, and was not surprised to hear, soon after, that Severance +was seriously ill. + +This brought me back at once,--sailing down from Providence in an open +boat, I remember, one lovely moonlight night. Next day I saw Severance, +who declared that he had suffered from nothing worse than a prolonged +sick-headache. I soon got out of him all that had happened. He had seen +the figure in the window every sunny day, he said. Of course he had, if +he chose to look for it, and I could only smile, though it perhaps +seemed unkind. But I stopped smiling when he went on to tell that, not +satisfied with these observations, he had visited the house by +moonlight also, and had then seen, as he averred, a second figure +standing beside the first. + +Of course, there was no defence against such a theory as this, except +simply to laugh it down; but it made me very anxious, for it showed +that he was growing thoroughly morbid. "Either it was pure fancy," I +said, "or it was Paul the gardener." + +But here he was prepared for me. It seemed that, on seeing the two +figures, Severance had at once left the piazza, and, with an instinct +of common-sense that was surprising, had crossed the garden, scaled the +wall, and looked in at the window of Paul's little cottage, where the +man and his wife were quietly seated at supper, probably after a late +fishing-trip. "There was another reason," he said; but here he stopped, +and would give no description of the second figure, which he had, +however, seen twice again, always by moon-light. He consented to let me +accompany him the following night. + +We accordingly went. It was a calm, clear night, and the moon lay +brightly on the bay. The distant shores looked low and filmy; a naval +vessel was in the harbor, and there was a ball on board, with music and +fire-works; some fishermen were singing in their boats, late as was the +hour. Severance was absorbed in his own gloomy reveries; and when we +had crossed the wall, the world seemed left outside, and the glamour of +the place began to creep over me also. I seemed to see my companion +relapsing into some phantom realm, beyond power of withdrawal. I +talked, sang, whistled; but it was all a rather hollow effort, and soon +ceased. The great house looked gloomy and impenetrable, the moonlight +appeared sick and sad, the birch-boughs rustled in a dreary way. We +went up the steps in no jubilant mood. + +I crossed the piazza at once, looked in at the farthest window, and saw +there my own image, though far more faintly than in the sunlight. +Severance then joined me, and his reflected shape stood by mine. +Something of the first ghostly impression was renewed, I must confess, +by this meeting of the two shadows; there was something rather awful in +the way the bodiless things nodded and gesticulated at each other in +silence. Still, there was nothing more than this, as Severance was +compelled to own; and I was trying to turn the whole affair into +ridicule, when suddenly, without sound or warning, I saw--as distinctly +as I perceive the words I now write--yet another figure stand at the +window, gaze steadfastly at us for a moment, and then disappear. It +was, as I fancied, that of a woman, but was totally enveloped in a very +full cloak, reaching to the ground, with a peculiarly cut hood, that +stood erect and seemed half as long as the body of the garment. I had a +vague recollection of having seen some such costume in a picture. + +Of course, I dashed round the corner of the house, threaded the +birch-trees, and stood on the eastern piazza. No one was there. Without +losing an instant, I ran to the garden wall and climbed it, as +Severance had done, to look into Paul's cottage. That worthy was just +getting into bed, in a state of complicated deshabille, his +blackbearded head wrapped in an old scarlet handkerchief that made him +look like a retired pirate in reduced circumstances. He being accounted +for, I vainly traversed the shrubberies, returned to the western +piazza, watched awhile uselessly, and went home with Severance, a good +deal puzzled. + +By daylight the whole thing seemed different. That I had seen the +figure there was no doubt. It was not a reflected image, for we had no +companion. It was, then, human. After all, thought I, it is a +commonplace thing enough, this masquerading in a cloak and hood. +Someone has observed Severance's nocturnal visits, and is amusing +himself at his expense. The peculiarity was, that the thing was so well +done, and the figure had such an air of dignity, that somehow it was +not so easy to make light of it in talking with him. + +I went into his room, next day. His sick-headache, or whatever it was, +had come on again, and he was lying on his bed. Rutherford's strange +old book on the Second Sight lay open before him. "Look there," he +said; and I read the motto of a chapter:-- + + "In sunlight one, + In shadow none, + In moonlight two, + In thunder two, + Then comes Death." + +I threw the book indignantly from me, and began to invent doggerel, +parodying this precious incantation. But Severance did not seem to +enjoy the joke, and it grows tiresome to enact one's own farce and do +one's own applauding. + +For several days after he was laid up in earnest; but instead of +getting any mental rest from this, he lay poring over that preposterous +book, and it really seemed as if his brain were a little disturbed. +Meanwhile I watched the great house, day and night, sought for +footsteps, and, by some odd fancy, took frequent observations on the +gardener and his wife. Failing to get any clew, I waited one day for +Paul's absence, and made a call upon the wife, under pretence of +hunting up a missing handkerchief,--for she had been my laundress. I +found the handsome, swarthy creature, with her six bronzed children +around her, training up the Madeira vine that made a bower of the whole +side of her little, black, gambrel-roofed cottage. On learning my +errand, she became full of sympathy, and was soon emptying her +bureau-drawers in pursuit of the lost handkerchief. As she opened the +lowest drawer, I saw within it something which sent all the blood to my +face for a moment. It was a black cloth cloak, with a stiff hood two +feet long, of precisely the pattern worn by the unaccountable visitant +at the window. I turned almost fiercely upon her; but she looked so +innocent as she stood there, caressing and dusting with her fingers +what was evidently a pet garment, that it was really impossible to +denounce her. + +"Is that a Bavarian cloak?" said I, trying to be cool and judicial. + +Here broke in the eldest boy, named John, aged ten, a native American, +and a sailor already, whom I had twice fished up from a capsized punt. +"Mother ain't a Bavarian," quoth the young salt. "Father's a Bavarian; +mother's a Portegee. Portegees wear them hoods." + +"I am a Portuguese, sir, from Fayal," said the woman, prolonging with +sweet intonation the soft name of her birthplace. "This is my capote, +she added, taking up with pride the uncouth costume, while the children +gathered round, as if its vast folds came rarely into sight. + +"It has not been unfolded for a year," she said. As she spoke, she +dropped it with a cry, and a little mouse sprang from the skirts, and +whisked away into some corner. We found that the little animal had made +its abode in the heavy woollen, of which three or four thicknesses had +been eaten through, and then matted together into the softest of nests. +This contained, moreover, a small family of mouselets, who certainly +had not taken part in any midnight masquerade. The secret seemed more +remote than ever, for I knew that there was no other Portuguese family +in the town, and there was no confounding this peculiar local costume +with any other. + +Returning to Severance's chamber, I said nothing of all this. He was, +by an odd coincidence, looking over a portfolio of Fayal sketches made +by himself during his late voyage. Among them were a dozen studies of +just such capotes as I had seen,--some in profile, completely screening +the wearer, others disclosing women's faces, old or young. He seemed to +wish to put them away, however, when I came in. Really, the plot seemed +to thicken; and it was a little provoking to understand it no better, +when all the materials seemed close to one's hands. + +A day or two later, I was summoned to Boston. Returning thence by the +stage-coach, we drove from Tiverton, the whole length of the island, +under one of those wild and wonderful skies which give, better than +anything in nature, the effect of a field of battle. The heavens were +filled with ten thousand separate masses of cloud, varying in shade +from palest gray to iron-black, borne rapidly to and fro by upper and +lower currents of opposing wind. They seemed to be charging, +retreating, breaking, recombining, with puffs of what seemed smoke, and +a few wan sunbeams sometimes striking through for fire. Wherever the +eye turned, there appeared some flying fragment not seen before; and +yet in an hour this noiseless Antietam grew still, and a settled leaden +film overspread the sky, yielding only to some level lines of light +where the sun went down. Perhaps our driver was looking toward the sky +more than to his own affairs, for, just as all this ended a wheel gave +out, and we had to stop in Portsmouth for repairs. By the time we were +again in motion, the changing wind had brought up a final +thunder-storm, which broke upon us ere we reached our homes. It was +rather an uncommon thing, so late in the season; for the lightning, +like other brilliant visitors, usually appears in Oldport during only a +month or two of every year. + +The coach set me down at my own door, so soaked that I might have +floated in. I peeped into Severance's room, however, on the way to my +own. Strange to say, no one was there; yet some one had evidently been +lying on the bed, and on the pillow lay the old book on the Second +Sight, open at the very page which had so bewitched him and vexed me. I +glanced at it mechanically, and when I came to the meaningless jumble, +"In thunder two," a flash flooded the chamber, and a sudden fear struck +into my mind. Who knew what insane experiment might have come into that +boy's head? + +With sudden impulse, I went downstairs, and found the whole house +empty, until a stupid old woman, coming in from the wood-house with her +apron full of turnips, told me that Severance had been missing since +nightfall, after being for a week in bed, dangerously ill, and +sometimes slightly delirious. The family had become alarmed, and were +out with lanterns, in search of him. + +It was safe to say that none of them had more reason to be alarmed than +I. It was something, however, to know where to seek him. Meeting two +neighboring fishermen, I took them with me. As we approached the +well-known wall, the blast blew out our lights, and we could scarcely +speak. The lightning had grown less frequent, yet sheets of flame +seemed occasionally to break over the dark, square sides of the house, +and to send a flickering flame along the ridge-pole and eaves, like a +surf of light. A surf of water broke also behind us on the Blue Rocks, +sounding as if it pursued our very footsteps; and one of the men +whispered hoarsely to me, that a Nantucket brig had parted her cable, +and was drifting in shore. + +As we entered the garden, lights gleamed in the shrubbery. To my +surprise, it was Paul and his wife, with their two oldest +children,--these last being quite delighted with the stir, and showing +so much illumination, in the lee of the house, that it was quite a +Feast of Lanterns. They seemed a little surprised at meeting us, too; +but we might as well have talked from Point Judith to Beaver Tail as to +have attempted conversation there. I walked round the building; but a +flash of lightning showed nothing on the western piazza save a +birch-tree, which lay across, blown down by the storm. I therefore went +inside, with Paul's household, leaving the fishermen without. + +Never shall I forget that search. As we went from empty room to room, +the thunder seemed rolling on the very roof, and the sharp flashes of +lightning appeared to put out our lamps and then kindle them again. We +traversed the upper regions, mounting by a ladder to the attic; then +descended into the cellar and the wine-vault. The thorough bareness of +the house, the fact that no bright-eyed mice peeped at us from their +holes, no uncouth insects glided on the walls, no flies buzzed in the +unwonted lamplight, scarcely a spider slid down his damp and trailing +web,--all this seemed to enhance the mystery. The vacancy was more +dreary than desertion: it was something old which had never been young. +We found ourselves speaking in whispers; the children kept close to +their parents; we seemed to be chasing some awful Silence from room to +room; and the last apartment, the great drawing-room, we really seemed +loath to enter. The less the rest of the house had to show, the more, +it seemed, must be concentrated there. Even as we entered, a blast of +air from a broken pane extinguished our last light, and it seemed to +take many minutes to rekindle it. + +As it shone once more, a brilliant lightning-flash also swept through +the window, and flickered and flickered, as if it would never have +done. The eldest child suddenly screamed, and pointed with her finger, +first to one great window and then to its opposite. My eyes +instinctively followed the successive directions; and the double glance +gave me all I came to seek, and more than all. Outside the western +window lay Severance, his white face against the pane, his eyes gazing +across and past us,--struck down doubtless by the fallen tree, which +lay across the piazza, and hid him from external view. Opposite him, +and seen through the eastern window, stood, statue-like, the hooded +figure, but with the great capote thrown back, showing a sad, eager, +girlish face, with dark eyes, and a good deal of black hair,--one of +those faces of peasant beauty such as America never shows,--faces where +ignorance is almost raised into refinement by its childlike look. +Contrasted with Severance's wild gaze, the countenance wore an +expression of pitying forgiveness, almost of calm; yet it told of +wasting sorrow and the wreck of a life. Gleaming lustrous beneath the +lightning, it had a more mystic look when the long flash had ceased, +and the single lantern burned beneath it, like an altar-lamp before a +shrine. + +"It is Aunt Emilia," exclaimed the little girl; and as she spoke, the +father, turning angrily upon her, dashed the light to the ground, and +groped his way out without a word of answer. I was too much alarmed +about Severance to care for aught else, and quickly made my way to the +western piazza, where I found him stunned by the fallen tree,--injured, +I feared, internally,--still conscious, but unable to speak. + +With the aid of my two companions I got him home, and he was ill for +several weeks before he died. During his illness he told me all he had +to tell; and though Paul and his family disappeared next day,--perhaps +going on board the Nantucket brig, which had narrowly escaped +shipwreck,--I afterwards learned all the remaining facts from the only +neighbor in whom they had placed confidence. Severance, while +convalescing at a country-house in Fayal, had fallen passionately in +love with a young peasant-girl, who had broken off her intended +marriage for love of him, and had sunk into a half-imbecile melancholy +when deserted. She had afterwards come to this country, and joined her +sister, Paul's wife. Paul had received her reluctantly, and only on +condition that her existence should be concealed. This was the easier, +as it was one of her whims to go out only by night, when she had +haunted the great house, which, she said, reminded her of her own +island, so that she liked to wear thither the capote which had been the +pride of her heart at home. On the few occasions when she had caught a +glimpse of Severance, he had seemed to her, no doubt, as much a phantom +as she seemed to him. On the night of the storm, they had both sought +their favorite haunt, unconscious of each other, and the friends of +each had followed in alarm. + +I got traces of the family afterwards at Nantucket and later at +Narragansett, and had reason to think that Paul was employed, one +summer, by a farmer on Conanicut; but I was always just too late for +them; and the money which Severance left, as his only reparation for +poor Emilia, never was paid. The affair was hushed up, and very few, +even among the neighbors, knew the tragedy that had passed by them with +the storm. + +After Severance died, I had that temporary feeling of weakened life +which remains after the first friend or the first love passes, and the +heart seems to lose its sense of infinity. His father came, and prosed, +and measured the windows of the empty house, and calculated angles of +reflection, and poured even death and despair into his crucible of +commonplace; the mother whined in her feebler way at home; while the +only brother, a talkative medical student, tried to pooh-pooh it all, +and sent me a letter demonstrating that Emilia was never in America, +and that the whole was an hallucination. I cared nothing for his +theory; it all seemed like a dream to me, and, as all the actors but +myself are gone, it seems so still. The great house is yet unoccupied, +and likely to remain so; and he who looks through its western window +may still be startled by the weird image of himself. As I lingered +round it, to-day, beneath the winter sunlight, the snow drifted +pitilessly past its ivied windows, and so hushed my footsteps that I +scarce knew which was the phantom, myself or my reflection, and +wondered if the medical student would not argue me out of existence +next. + +This is the end of my story. If I sought for a moral, it would be hard +to attach one to a thing so slight. It could only be this, that shadow +and substance are always ready to link themselves, in unexpected ways, +against the diseased imagination; and that remorse can make the most +transparent crystal into a mirror for its sin. + + + +A DRIFT-WOOD FIRE + + "This ae nighte, this ae nighte, + Every nighte and alle, + Fire and salt and candle-lighte, + And Christe receive thy saule." + _A Lyke-Wake Dirge_. + +The October days grow rapidly shorter, and brighten with more +concentrated light. It is but half past five, yet the sun dips redly +behind Conanicut, the sunset-gun booms from our neighbor's yacht, the +flag glides down from his mainmast, and the slender pennant, running +swiftly up the opposite halyards, dances and flickers like a flame, and +at last perches, with dainty hesitation, at the mast-head. A tint of +salmon-color, burnished into long undulations of lustre, overspreads +the shallower waves; but a sober gray begins to steal in beneath the +sunset rays, and will soon claim even the brilliant foreground for its +own. Pile a few more fragments of drift-wood upon the fire in the great +chimney, little maiden, and then couch yourself before it, that I may +have your glowing childhood as a foreground for those heaped relics of +shipwreck and despair. You seem, in your scarlet boating-dress, Annie, +like some bright tropic bird, alit for a moment beside that other bird +of the tropics, flame. + +Thoreau thought that his temperament dated from an earlier period than +the agricultural, because he preferred woodcraft to gardening; and it +is also pleasant to revert to the period when men had invented neither +saws nor axes, but simply picked up their fuel in forests or on +ocean-shores. Fire is a thing which comes so near us, and combines +itself so closely with our life, that we enjoy it best when we work for +it in some way, so that our fuel shall warm us twice, as the country +people say,--once in the getting, and again in the burning. Yet no work +seems to have more of the flavor of play in it than that of collecting +drift-wood on some convenient beach, or than this boat-service of ours, +Annie, when we go wandering from island to island in the harbor, and +glide over sea-weedgroves and the habitations of crabs,--or to the +flowery and ruined bastions of Rose Island,--or to those caves at +Coaster's Harbor where we played Victor Hugo, and were eaten up in +fancy by a cuttle-fish. Then we voyaged, you remember, to that further +cave in, the solid rock, just above low-water-mark, a cell +unapproachable by land, and high enough for you to stand erect. There +you wished to play Constance in Marmion, and to be walled up alive, if +convenient; but as it proved impracticable on that day, you helped me +to secure some bits of drift-wood instead. Longer voyages brought waifs +from remoter islands,--whose very names tell, perchance, the changing +story of mariners long since wrecked,--isles baptized Patience and +Prudence, Hope and Despair. And other relics bear witness of more +distant beaches, and of those wrecks which still lie, sentinels of +ruin, along Brenton's Point and Castle Hill. + +To collect drift-wood is like botanizing, and one soon learns to +recognize the prevailing species, and to look with pleased eagerness +for new. It is a tragic botany indeed, where, as in enchanted gardens, +every specimen has a voice, and, as you take each from the ground, you +expect from it a cry like the mandrake's. And from what a garden it +comes! As one walks round Brenton's Point after an autumnal storm, it +seems as if the passionate heaving of the waves had brought wholly new +tints to the surface, hues unseen even in dreams before, greens and +purples impossible in serener days. These match the prevailing green +and purple of the slate-cliffs; and Nature in truth carries such fine +fitnesses yet further. For, as we tread the delicate seaside turf, +which makes the farthest point seem merely the land's last bequest of +emerald to the ocean, we suddenly come upon curved lines of lustrous +purple amid the grass, rows on rows of bright muscle-shells, regularly +traced as if a child had played there,--the graceful high-water-mark of +the terrible storm. + +It is the crowning fascination of the sea, the consummation of such +might in such infantine delicacy. You may notice it again in the +summer, when our bay is thronged for miles on miles with inch-long +jelly-fishes,--lovely creatures, in shape like disembodied +gooseberries, and shot through and through in the sunlight with all +manner of blue and golden glistenings, and bearing tiny rows of +fringing oars that tremble like a baby's eyelids. There is less of +gross substance in them than in any other created thing,--mere water +and outline, destined to perish at a touch, but seemingly never +touching, for they float secure, finding no conceivable cradle so soft +as this awful sea. They are like melodies amid Beethoven's Symphonies, +or like the songs that wander through Shakespeare, and that seem things +too fragile to risk near Cleopatra's passion and Hamlet's woe. Thus +tender is the touch of ocean; and look, how around this piece of oaken +timber, twisted and torn and furrowed,--its iron bolts snapped across +as if bitten,--there is yet twined a gay garland of ribbon-weed, +bearing on its trailing stem a cluster of bright shells, like a +mermaid's chatelaine. + +Thus adorned, we place it on the blaze. As night gathers without, the +gale rises. It is a season of uneasy winds, and of strange, rainless +storms, which perplex the fishermen, and indicate rough weather out at +sea. As the house trembles and the windows rattle, we turn towards the +fire with a feeling of safety. Representing the fiercest of all +dangers, it yet expresses security and comfort. + +Should a gale tear the roof from over our heads and show the black sky +alone above us, we should not feel utterly homeless while this fire +burned,--at least I can recall such a feeling of protection when once +left suddenly roofless by night in one of the wild gorges of Mount +Katahdin. There is a positive demonstrative force in an open fire, +which makes it your fit ally in a storm. Settled and obdurate cold may +well be encountered by the quiet heat of an invisible furnace. But this +howling wind might depress one's spirits, were it not met by a force as +palpable,--the warm blast within answering to the cold blast without. +The wide chimney then becomes the scene of contest: wind meets wind, +sparks encounter rain-drops, they fight in the air like the visioned +soldiers of Attila; sometimes a daring drop penetrates, and dies, +hissing, on the hearth; and sometimes a troop of sparks may make a +sortie from the chimney-top. I know not how else we can meet the +elements by a defiance so magnificent as that from this open hearth; +and in burning drift-wood, especially, we turn against the enemy his +own ammunition. For on these fragments three elements have already done +their work. Water racked and strained the hapless ships, air hunted +them, and they were thrown at last upon earth, the sternest of all. Now +fire takes the shattered remnants, and makes them a means of comfort +and defence. + +It has been pointed out by botanists, as one of Nature's most graceful +retributions, that, in the building of the ship, the apparent balance +of vegetable forces is reversed, and the herb becomes master of the +tree, when the delicate, blue-eyed flax, taking the stately pine under +its protection, stretches over it in cordage, or spreads in sails. But +more graceful still is this further contest between the great natural +elements, when this most fantastic and vanishing thing, this delicate +and dancing flame, subdues all these huge vassals to its will, and, +after earth and air and water have done their utmost, comes in to +complete the task, and to be crowned as monarch. "The sea drinks the +air," said Anacreon, "and the sun the sea." My fire is the child of the +sun. + +I come back from every evening stroll to this gleaming blaze; it is a +domestic lamp, and shines for me everywhere. To my imagination it burns +as a central flame among these dark houses, and lights up the whole of +this little fishing hamlet, humble suburb of the fashionable +watering-place. I fancy that others too perceive the light, and that +certain huge visitors are attracted, even when the storm keeps +neighbors and friends at home. For the slightest presage of foul +weather is sure to bring to yonder anchorage a dozen silent vessels, +that glide up the harbor for refuge, and are heard but once, when the +chain-cable rattles as it runs out, and the iron hand of the anchor +grasps the rock. It always seems to me that these unwieldy creatures +are gathered, not about the neighboring lighthouse only, but around our +ingle-side. Welcome, ye great winged strangers, whose very names are +unknown! This hearth is comprehensive in its hospitalities; it will +accept from you either its fuel or its guests; your mariners may warm +themselves beside it, or your scattered timbers may warm me. Strange +instincts might be supposed to thrill and shudder in the ribs of ships +that sail toward the beacon of a drift-wood fire. Morituri salutant. A +single shock, and all that magnificent fabric may become mere fuel to +prolong the flame. + +Here, beside the roaring ocean, this blaze represents the only +receptacle more vast than ocean. We say, "unstable as water." But there +is nothing unstable about the flickering flame; it is persistent and +desperate, relentless in following its ends. It is the most tremendous +physical force that man can use. "If drugs fail," said Hippocrates, +"use the knife; should the knife fail, use fire." Conquered countries +were anciently given over to fire and sword: the latter could only +kill, but the other could annihilate. See how thoroughly it does its +work, even when domesticated: it takes up everything upon the hearth +and leaves all clean. The Greek proverb says, that "the sea drinks up +all the sins of the world." Save fire only, the sea is the most +capacious of all things. + +But its task is left incomplete: it only hides its records, while fire +destroys them. In the Norse Edda, when the gods try their games, they +find themselves able to out-drink the ocean, but not to eat like the +flame. Logi, or fire, licks up food and trencher and all. This chimney +is more voracious than the sea. Give time enough, and all which yonder +depths contain might pass through this insatiable throat, leaving only +a few ashes and the memory of a flickering shade,--pulvis et umbra. We +recognize this when we have anything to conceal. Deep crimes are buried +in earth, deeper are sunk In water, but the deepest of all are confided +by trembling men to the profounder secrecy of flame. If every old +chimney could narrate the fearful deeds whose last records it has +cancelled, what sighs of undying passion would breathe from its dark +summit,--what groans of guilt! Those lurid sparks that whirl over +yonder house-top, tossed aloft as if fire itself could not contain +them, may be the last embers of some written scroll, one rescued word +of which might suffice for the ruin of a household, and the crushing of +many hearts. + +But this domestic hearth of ours holds only, besides its drift-wood, +the peaceful records of the day,--its shreds and fragments and fallen +leaves. As the ancients poured wine upon their flames, so I pour +rose-leaves in libation; and each morning contributes the faded petals +of yesterday's wreaths. All our roses of this season have passed up +this chimney in the blaze. Their delicate veins were filled with all +the summer's fire, and they returned to fire once more,--ashes to +ashes, flame to flame. For holding, with Bettina, that every flower +which is broken becomes immortal in the sacrifice, I deem it more +fitting that their earthly part should die by a concentration of that +burning element which would at any rate be in some form their ending; +so they have their altar on this bright hearth. + +Let us pile up the fire anew with drift-wood, Annie. We can choose at +random; for our logs came from no single forest. It is considered an +important branch of skill in the country to know the varieties of +firewood, and to choose among them well. But to-night we have the whole +Atlantic shore for our wood-pile, and the Gulf Stream for a teamster. +Every foreign tree of rarest name may, for aught we know, send its +treasures to our hearth. Logwood and satinwood may mingle with cedar +and maple; the old cellar floors of this once princely town are of +mahogany, and why not our fire? I have a very indistinct impression +what teak is; but if it means something black and impenetrable and +nearly indestructible, then there is a piece of it, Annie, on the +hearth at this moment. + +It must be owned, indeed, that timbers soaked long enough in salt-water +seem almost to lose their capacity of being burnt. Perhaps it was for +this reason that, in the ancient "lyke-wakes" of the North of England, +a pinch of salt was placed upon the dead body, as a safeguard against +purgatorial flames. Yet salt melts ice, and so represents heat, one +would think; and one can fancy that these fragments should be doubly +inflammable, by their saline quality, and by the unmerciful rubbing +which the waves have given them. I have noticed what warmth this +churning process communicates to the clotted foam that lies in +tremulous masses among the rocks, holding all the blue of ocean in its +bubbles. After one's hands are chilled with the water, one can warm +them in the foam. These drift-wood fragments are but the larger foam of +shipwrecks. + +What strange comrades this flame brings together! As foreign sailors +from remotest seas may sit and chat side by side, before some +boarding-house fire in this seaport town, so these shapeless sticks, +perhaps gathered from far wider wanderings, now nestle together against +the backlog, and converse in strange dialects as they burn. It is +written in the Heetopades of Veeshnoo Sarma, that, "as two planks, +floating on the surface of the mighty receptacle of the waters, meet, +and having met are separated forever, so do beings in this life come +together and presently are parted." Perchance this chimney reunites the +planks, at the last moment, as death must reunite friends. + +And with what wondrous voices these strayed wanderers talk to one +another on the hearth! They bewitch us by the mere fascination of their +language. Such a delicacy of intonation, yet such a volume of sound. +The murmur of the surf is not so soft or so solemn. There are the +merest hints and traceries of tones,--phantom voices, more remote from +noise than anything which is noise; and yet there is an undertone of +roar, as from a thousand cities, the cities whence these wild voyagers +came. Watch the decreasing sounds of a fire as it dies,--for it seems +cruel to leave it, as we do, to die alone. I watched beside this hearth +last night. As the fire sank down, the little voices grew stiller and +more still, and at last there came only irregular beats, at varying +intervals, as if from a heart that acted spasmodically, or as if it +were measuring off by ticks the little remnant of time. Then it said, +"Hush!" two or three times, and there came something so like a sob that +it seemed human; and then all was still. + +If these dying voices are so sweet and subtile, what legends must be +held untold by yonder fragments that lie unconsumed! Photography has +familiarized us with the thought that every visible act, since the +beginning of the world, has stamped itself upon surrounding surfaces, +even if we have not yet skill to discern and hold the image. And +especially, in looking on a liquid expanse, such as the ocean in calm, +one is haunted with these fancies. I gaze into its depths, and wonder +if no stray reflection has been imprisoned there, still accessible to +human eyes, of some scene of passion or despair it has witnessed; as +some maiden visitor at Holyrood Palace, looking in the ancient metallic +mirror, might start at the thought that perchance some lineament of +Mary Stuart may suddenly look out, in desolate and forgotten beauty, +mingled with her own. And if the mere waters of the ocean, satiate and +wearied with tragedy as they must be, still keep for our fancy such +records, how much more might we attribute a human consciousness to +these shattered fragments, each seared by its own special grief. + +Yet while they are silent, I like to trace back for these component +parts of my fire such brief histories as I share. This block, for +instance, came from the large schooner which now lies at the end of +Castle Hill Beach, bearing still aloft its broken masts and shattered +rigging, and with its keel yet stanch, except that the stern-post is +gone,--so that each tide sweeps in its green harvest of glossy kelp, +and then tosses it in the hold like hay, desolately tenanting the place +which once sheltered men. The floating weed, so graceful in its own +place, looks but dreary when thus confined. On that fearfully cold +Monday of last winter (January 8, 1866) when the mercury stood at -10 +deg.; even in this mildest corner of New England,--this vessel was +caught helplessly amid the ice that drifted out of the west passage of +Narragansett Bay, before the fierce north-wind. They tried to beat into +the eastern entrance, but the schooner seemed in sinking condition, the +sails and helm were clogged with ice, and every rope, as an eye-witness +told me, was as large as a man's body with frozen sleet. Twice they +tacked across, making no progress; and then, to save their lives, ran +the vessel on the rocks and got ashore. After they had left her, a +higher wave swept her off, and drifted her into a little cove, where +she has ever since remained. + +There were twelve wrecks along this shore last winter,--more than +during any season for a quarter of a century. I remember when the first +of these lay in great fragments on Graves Point, a schooner having been +stranded on Cormorant Rocks outside, and there broken in pieces by the +surf. She had been split lengthwise, and one great side was leaning up +against the sloping rock, bows on, like some wild sea-creature never +before beheld of men, and come there but to die. So strong was this +impression that when I afterwards saw men at work upon the wreck, +tearing out the iron bolts and chains, it seemed like torturing the +last moments of a living thing. At my next visit there was no person in +sight; another companion fragment had floated ashore, and the two lay +peacefully beside the sailors' graves (which give the name to the +point), as if they found comfort there. A little farther on there was a +brig ashore and deserted. A fog came in from the sea; and, as I sat by +the graves, some unseen passing vessel struck eight bells for noon. For +a moment I fancied that it came from the empty brig,--a ghostly call, +to summon phantom sailors. + +That smouldering brand, which has alternately gleamed and darkened for +so many minutes, I brought from Price's Neck last winter, when the +Brenton's Reef Light-ship went ashore. Yonder the oddly shaped vessel +rides at anchor now, two miles from land, bearing her lanterns aloft at +fore and main top. She parted her moorings by night, in the fearful +storm of October 19, 1865; and I well remember, that, as I walked +through the streets that wild evening, it seemed dangerous to be out of +doors, and I tried to imagine what was going on at sea, while at that +very moment the light-ship was driving on toward me in the darkness. It +was thus that it happened:-- + +There had been a heavy gale from the southeast, which, after a few +hours of lull, suddenly changed in the afternoon to the southwest, +which is, on this coast, the prevailing direction. Beginning about +three o'clock, this new wind had risen almost to a hurricane by six, +and held with equal fury till midnight, after which it greatly +diminished, though, when I visited the wreck next morning, it was hard +to walk against the blast. The light-ship went adrift at eight in the +evening; the men let go another anchor, with forty fathoms of cable; +this parted also, but the cable dragged, as she drifted in, keeping the +vessel's head to the wind, which was greatly to her advantage. The +great waves took her over five lines of reef, on each of which her keel +grazed or held for a time. She came ashore on Price's Neck at last, +about eleven. + +It was utterly dark; the sea broke high over the ship, even over her +lanterns, and the crew could only guess that they were near the land by +the sound of the surf. The captain was not on board, and the mate was +in command, though his leg had been broken while holding the tiller. +They could not hear each other's voices, and could scarcely cling to +the deck. There seemed every chance that the ship would go to pieces +before daylight. At last one of the crew, named William Martin, a +Scotchman, thinking, as he afterwards told me, of his wife and three +children, and of the others on board who had families,--and that +something must be done, and he might as well do it as anybody,--got a +rope bound around his waist, and sprang overboard. I asked the mate +next day whether he ordered Martin to do this, and he said, "No, he +volunteered it. I would not have ordered him, for I would not have done +it myself." What made the thing most remarkable was, that the man +actually could not swim, and did not know how far off the shore was, +but trusted to the waves to take him thither,--perhaps two hundred +yards. His trust was repaid. Struggling in the mighty surf, he +sometimes felt the rocks beneath his feet, sometimes bruised his hands +against them. At any rate he got on shore alive, and, securing his +rope, made his way over the moors to the town, and summoned his +captain, who was asleep in his own house. They returned at once to the +spot, found the line still fast, and the rest of the crew, four in +number, lowered the whaleboat, and were pulled to shore by the rope, +landing safely before daybreak. + +When I saw the vessel next morning, she lay in a little cove, stern on, +not wholly out of water,--steady and upright as in a dry-dock, with no +sign of serious injury, except that the rudder was gone. She did not +seem like a wreck; the men were the wrecks. As they lay among the +rocks, bare or tattered, scarcely able to move, waiting for low tide to +go on board the vessel, it was like a scene after a battle. They +appeared too inert, poor fellows, to do anything but yearn toward the +sun. When they changed position for shelter, from time to time, they +crept along the rocks, instead of walking. They were like the little +floating sprays of sea-weed, when you take them from the water and they +become a mere mass of pulp in your hand. Martin shared in the general +exhaustion, and no wonder; but he told his story very simply, and +showed me where he had landed. The feat seemed to me then, and has +always seemed, almost incredible, even for an expert swimmer. He thus +summed up the motives for his action: "I thought that God was first, +and I was next, and if I did the best I could, no man could do more +than that; so I jumped overboard." It is pleasant to add, that, though +a poor man, he utterly declined one of those small donations of money +by which we Anglo-Saxons are wont clumsily to express our personal +enthusiasms; and I think I appreciated his whole action the more for +its coming just at the close of a war during which so many had readily +accepted their award of praise or pay for acts of less intrinsic daring +than his. + +Stir the fire, Annie, with yonder broken fragment of a flag-staff; its +truck is still remaining, though the flag is gone, and every nation +might claim it. As you stir, the burning brands evince a remembrance of +their sea-lost life, the sparks drift away like foam-flakes, the flames +wave and flap like sails, and the wail of the chimney sings a second +shipwreck. As the tiny scintillations gleam and scatter and vanish in +the soot of the chimney-wall, instead of "There goes the parson, and +there goes the clerk," it must be the captain and the crew we watch. A +drift-wood fire should always have children to tend it; for there is +something childlike about it, unlike the steadier glow of walnut logs. +It has a coaxing, infantine way of playing with the oddly shaped bits +of wood we give it, and of deserting one to caress with flickering +impulse another; and at night, when it needs to be extinguished, it is +as hard to put to rest as a nursery of children, for some bright little +head is constantly springing up anew, from its pillow of ashes. And, in +turn, what endless delight children find in the manipulation of a fire! + +What a variety of playthings, too, in this fuel of ours; such +inexplicable pieces, treenails and tholepins, trucks and sheaves, the +lid of a locker, and a broken handspike. These larger fragments are +from spars and planks and knees. Some were dropped overboard in this +quiet harbor; others may have floated from Fayal or Hispaniola, +Mozambique or Zanzibar. This eagle figure-head, chipped and battered, +but still possessing highly aquiline features and a single eye, may +have tangled its curved beak in the vast weed-beds of the Sargasso Sea, +or dipped it in the Sea of Milk. Tell us your story, O heroic but +dilapidated bird! and perhaps song or legend may find in it themes that +shall be immortal. + +The eagle is silent, and I suspect, Annie, that he is but a plain, +home-bred fowl after all. But what shall we say to this piece of plank, +hung with barnacles that look large enough for the fabled +barnacle-goose to emerge from? Observe this fragment a little. Another +piece is secured to it, not neatly, as with proper tools, but clumsily, +with many nails of different sizes, driven unevenly and with their +heads battered awry. Wedged clumsily in between these pieces, and +secured by a supplementary nail, is a bit of broken rope. Let us touch +that rope tenderly; for who knows what despairing hands may last have +clutched it when this rude raft was made? It may, indeed, have been the +handiwork of children, on the Penobscot or the St. Mary's River. But +its Condition betokens voyages yet longer; and it may just as well have +come from the stranded "Golden Rule" on Roncador Reef,--that +picturesque shipwreck where (as a rescued woman told me) the eyes of +the people in their despair seemed full of sublime resignation, so that +there was no confusion or outcry, and even gamblers and harlots looked +death in the face as nobly, for all that could be seen, as the saintly +and the pure. Or who knows but it floated round Cape Horn, from that +other wreck, on the Pacific shore, of the "Central America," where the +rough miners found that there was room in the boats only for their +wives and their gold; and where, pushing the women off, with a few men +to row them, the doomed husbands gave a cheer of courage as the ship +went down. + +Here again is a piece of pine wood, cut in notches as for a tally, and +with every seventh notch the longest; these notches having been cut +deeply at the beginning, and feebly afterwards, stopping abruptly +before the end was reached. Who could have carved it? Not a school-boy +awaiting vacation, or a soldier expecting his discharge; for then each +tally would have been cut off, instead of added. Nor could it be the +squad of two soldiers who garrison Rose Island; for their tour of duty +lasts but a week. There are small barnacles and sea-weed too, which +give the mysterious stick a sort of brevet antiquity. It has been long +adrift, and these little barnacles, opening and closing daily their +minute valves, have kept meanwhile their own register, and with their +busy fringed fingers have gathered from the whole Atlantic that small +share of its edible treasures which sufficed for them. Plainly this +waif has had its experiences. It was Robinson Crusoe's, Annie, depend +upon it. We will save it from the flames, and when we establish our +marine museum, nothing save a veritable piece of the North Pole shall +be held so valuable as this undoubted relic from Juan Fernandez. + +But the night deepens, and its reveries must end. With the winter will +pass away the winter-storms, and summer will bring its own more +insidious perils. Then the drowsy old seaport will blaze into splendor, +through saloon and avenue, amidst which many a bright career will end +suddenly and leave no sign. The ocean tries feebly to emulate the +profounder tragedies of the shore. In the crowded halls of gay hotels, +I see wrecks drifting hopelessly, dismasted and rudderless, to be +stranded on hearts harder and more cruel than Brenton's Reef, yet hid +in smiles falser than its fleecy foam. What is a mere forsaken ship, +compared with stately houses from which those whom I first knew in +their youth and beauty have since fled into midnight and despair? + +But one last gleam upon our hearth lights up your innocent eyes, little +Annie, and dispels the gathering shade. The flame dies down again, and +you draw closer to my side. The pure moon looks in at the southern +window, replacing the ruddier glow; while the fading embers lisp and +prattle to one another, like drowsy children, more and more faintly, +till they fall asleep. + + + +AN ARTIST'S CREATION. + +When I reached Kenmure's house, one August evening, it was rather a +disappointment to find that he and his charming Laura had absented +themselves for twenty-four hours. I had not seen them together since +their marriage; my admiration for his varied genius and her unvarying +grace was at its height, and I was really annoyed at the delay. My fair +cousin, with her usual exact housekeeping, had prepared everything for +her guest, and then bequeathed me, as she wrote, to Janet and baby +Marian. It was a pleasant arrangement, for between baby Marian and me +there existed a species of passion, I might almost say of betrothal, +ever since that little three-year-old sunbeam had blessed my mother's +house by lingering awhile in it, six months before. Still I went to bed +disappointed, though the delightful windows of the chamber looked out +upon the glimmering bay, and the swinging lanterns at the yard-arms of +the frigates shone like some softer constellation beneath the brilliant +sky. The house was so close upon the water that the cool waves seemed +to plash deliciously against its very basement; and it was a comfort to +think that, if there were no adequate human greetings that night, there +would be plenty in the morning, since Marian would inevitably be +pulling my eyelids apart before sunrise. + +It was scarcely dawn when I was roused by a little arm round my neck, +and waked to think I had one of Raphael's cherubs by my side. Fingers +of waxen softness were ruthlessly at work upon my eyes, and the little +form that met my touch felt lithe and elastic, like a kitten's limbs. +There was just light enough to see the child, perched on the edge of +the bed, her soft blue dressing-gown trailing over the white +night-dress, while her black and long-fringed eyes shone through the +dimness of morning. She yielded gladly to my grasp, and I could fondle +again the silken hair, the velvety brunette cheek, the plump, childish +shoulders. Yet sleep still half held me, and when my cherub appeared to +hold it a cherubic practice to begin the day with a demand for lively +anecdote, I was fain drowsily to suggest that she might first tell some +stories to her doll. With the sunny readiness that was a part of her +nature, she straightway turned to that young lady,--plain Susan +Halliday, with both cheeks patched, and eyes of different colors,--and +soon discoursed both her and me into repose. + +When I waked again, it was to find the child conversing with the +morning star, which still shone through the window, scarcely so lucent +as her eyes, and bidding it go home to its mother, the sun. Another +lapse into dreams, and then a more vivid awakening, and she had my ear +at last, and won story after story, requiting them with legends of her +own youth, "almost a year ago,"--how she was perilously lost, for +instance, in the small front yard, with a little playmate, early in the +afternoon, and how they came and peeped into the window, and thought +all the world had forgotten them. Then the sweet voice, distinct in its +articulation as Laura's, went straying off into wilder fancies,--a +chaos of autobiography and conjecture, like the letters of a war +correspondent. You would have thought her little life had yielded more +pangs and fears than might have sufficed for the discovery of the North +Pole; but breakfast-time drew near at last, and Janet's honest voice +was heard outside the door. I rather envied the good Scotchwoman the +pleasant task of polishing the smooth cheeks and combing the +dishevelled silk; but when, a little later, the small maiden was riding +down stairs in my arms, I envied no one. + +At sight of the bread and milk, my cherub was transformed into a hungry +human child, chiefly anxious to reach the bottom of her porringer. I +was with her a great deal that day. She gave no manner of trouble: it +was like having the charge of a floating butterfly, endowed with warm +arms to clasp, and a silvery voice to prattle. I sent Janet out to +sail, with the other servants, by way of frolic, and Marian's perfect +temperament was shown in the way she watched the departing. + +"There they go," she said, as she stood and danced at the window. "Now +they are out of sight." + +"What!" I said, "are you pleased to have your friends go?" + +"Yes," she answered; "but I shall be pleased-er to see them come back." + +Life to her was no alternation between joy and grief, but only between +joy and delight. + +Twilight brought us to an improvised concert. Climbing the piano-stool, +she went over the notes with her little taper fingers, touching the +keys in a light, knowing way, that proved her a musician's child. Then +I must play for her, and let the dance begin. This was a wondrous +performance on her part, and consisted at first in hopping up and down +on one spot, with no change of motion, but in her hands. She resembled +a minute and irrepressible Shaker, or a live and beautiful marionnette. +Then she placed Janet in the middle of the floor, And performed the +dance round her, after the manner of Vivien and Merlin. Then came her +supper, which, like its predecessors, was a solid and absorbing meal; +then one more fairy story, to magnetize her off, and she danced and +sang herself up stairs. And if she first came to me in the morning with +a halo round her head, she seemed still to retain it when I at last +watched her kneeling in the little bed--perfectly motionless, with her +hands placed together, and her long lashes sweeping her cheeks--to +repeat two verses of a hymn which Janet had taught her. My nerves +quivered a little when I saw that Susan Halliday had also been duly +prepared for the night, and had been put in the same attitude, so far +as her jointless anatomy permitted. This being ended, the doll and her +mistress reposed together, and only an occasional toss of the vigorous +limbs, or a stifled baby murmur, would thenceforth prove, through the +darkened hours, that the one figure had in it more of life than the +other. + +On the next morning Kenmure and Laura came back to us, and I walked +down to receive them at the boat. I had forgotten how striking was +their appearance, as they stood together. His broad, strong, Saxon +look, his manly bearing and clear blue eyes, enhanced the fascination +of her darker beauty. + +America is full of the short-lived bloom and freshness of girlhood; but +it is a rare thing in one's life to see a beauty that really controls +with a permanent charm. One must remember such personal loveliness, as +one recalls some particular moonlight or sunset, with a special and +concentrated joy, which the multiplicity of fainter impressions cannot +disturb. When in those days we used to read, in Petrarch's one hundred +and twenty-third sonnet, that he had once beheld on earth angelic +manners and celestial charms, whose very remembrance was a delight and +an affliction, since it made all else appear but dream and shadow, we +could easily fancy that nature had certain permanent attributes which +accompanied the name of Laura. + +Our Laura had that rich brunette beauty before which the mere snow and +roses of the blonde must always seem wan and unimpassioned. In the +superb suffusions of her cheek there seemed to flow a tide of passions +and powers that might have been tumultuous in a meaner woman, but over +which, in her, the clear and brilliant eyes and the sweet, proud mouth +presided in unbroken calm. These superb tints implied resources only, +not a struggle. With this torrent from the tropics in her veins, she +was the most equable person I ever saw, and had a supreme and delicate +good-sense, which, if not supplying the place of genius, at least +comprehended its work. Not intellectually gifted herself, perhaps, she +seemed the cause of gifts in others, and furnished the atmosphere in +which all showed their best. With the steady and thoughtful enthusiasm +of her Puritan ancestors, she combined that charm which is so rare +among their descendants,--a grace which fascinated the humblest, while +it would have been just the same in the society of kings. Her person +had the equipoise and symmetry of her mind. While it had its separate +points of beauty, each a source of distinct and peculiar pleasure,--as, +the outline of her temples, the white line that parted her nightblack +hair, the bend of her wrists, the moulding of her finger-tips,--yet +these details were lost in the overwhelming sweetness of her presence, +and the serene atmosphere that she diffused over all human life. + +A few days passed rapidly by us. We walked and rode and boated and +read. Little Marian came and went, a living sunbeam, a self-sufficing +thing. It was soon obvious that she was far less demonstrative toward +her parents than toward me; while her mother, gracious to her as to +all, yet rarely caressed her, and Kenmure, though habitually kind, was +inclined to ignore her existence, and could scarcely tolerate that she +should for one instant preoccupy his wife. For Laura he lived, and she +must live for him. He had a studio, which I rarely entered and Marian +never, though Laura was almost constantly there; and after the first +cordiality was past, I observed that their daily expeditions were +always arranged for only two. The weather was beautiful, and they led +the wildest outdoor life, cruising all day or all night among the +islands, regardless of hours, and almost of health. No matter: Kenmure +liked it, and what he liked she loved. When at home, they were chiefly +in the studio, he painting, modelling, poetizing perhaps, and she +inseparably united with him in all. It was very beautiful, this +unworldly and passionate love, and I could have borne to be omitted in +their daily plans,--since little Marian was left to me,--save that it +seemed so strange to omit her also. Besides, there grew to be something +a little oppressive in this peculiar atmosphere; it was like living in +a greenhouse. + +Yet they always spoke in the simplest way of this absorbing passion, as +of something about which no reticence was needed; it was too sacred not +to be mentioned; it would be wrong not to utter freely to all the world +what was doubtless the best thing the world possessed. Thus Kenmure +made Laura his model in all his art; not to coin her into wealth or +fame,--he would have scorned it; he would have valued fame and wealth +only as instruments for proclaiming her. Looking simply at these two +lovers, then, it was plain that no human union could be more noble or +stainless. Yet so far as others were concerned, it sometimes seemed to +me a kind of duplex selfishness, so profound and so undisguised as to +make one shudder. "Is it," I asked myself at such moments, "a great +consecration, or a great crime?" But something must be allowed, +perhaps, for my own private dis-satisfactions in Marian's behalf. + +I had easily persuaded Janet to let me have a peep every night at my +darling, as she slept; and once I was surprised to find Laura sitting +by the small white bed. Graceful and beautiful as she always was, she +never before had seemed to me so lovely, for she never had seemed quite +like a mother. But I could not demand a sweeter look of tenderness than +that with which she now gazed upon her child. + +Little Marian lay with one brown, plump hand visible from its full +white sleeve, while the other nestled half hid beneath the sheet, +grasping a pair of blue morocco shoes, the last acquisition of her +favorite doll. Drooping from beneath the pillow hung a handful of +scarlet poppies, which the child had wished to place under her head, in +the very superfluous project of putting herself to sleep thereby. Her +soft brown hair was scattered on the sheet, her black lashes lay +motionless upon the olive cheeks. Laura wished to move her, that I +might see her the better. + +"You will wake her," exclaimed I, in alarm. + +"Wake this little dormouse?" Laura lightly answered. "Impossible." + +And, twining her arms about her, the young mother lifted the child from +the bed, three or four times in succession, while the healthy little +creature remained utterly undisturbed, breathing the same quiet breath. +I watched Laura with amazement; she seemed transformed. + +She gayly returned my eager look, and then, seeming suddenly to +penetrate its meaning, cast down her eyes, while the color mounted into +her cheeks. "You thought," she said, almost sternly, "that I did not +love my child." + +"No," I said half untruthfully. + +"I can hardly wonder," she continued, more sadly, "for it is only what +I have said to myself a thousand times. Sometimes I think that I have +lived in a dream, and one that few share with me. I have questioned +others, and never yet found a woman who did not admit that her child +was more to her, in her secret soul, than her husband. What can they +mean? Such a thought is foreign to my very nature." + +"Why separate the two?" I asked. + +"I must separate them in thought," she answered, with the air of one +driven to bay by her own self-reproaching. "I had, like other young +girls, my dream of love and marriage. Unlike all the rest, I believe, I +found my visions fulfilled. The reality was more than the imagination; +and I thought it would be so with my love for my child. The first cry +of that baby told the difference to my ear. I knew it all from that +moment; the bliss which had been mine as a wife would never be mine as +a mother. If I had not known what it was to adore my husband, I might +have been content with my love for Marian. But look at that exquisite +creature as she lies there asleep, and then think that I, her mother, +should desert her if she were dying, for aught I know, at one word from +him!" + +"Your feeling does not seem natural," I said, hardly knowing what to +answer. + +"What good does it serve to know that?" she said, defiantly. "I say it +to myself every day. Once when she was ill, and was given back to me in +all the precious helplessness of babyhood, there was such a strange +sweetness in it, I thought the charm might remain; but it vanished when +she could run about once more. And she is such a healthy, self-reliant +little thing," added Laura, glancing toward the bed with a momentary +look of motherly pride that seemed strangely out of place amid these +self-denunciations. "I wish her to be so," she added. "The best service +I can do for her is to teach her to stand alone. And at some day," +continued the beautiful woman, her whole face lighting up with +happiness, "she may love as I have loved." + +"And your husband," I said, after a pause,--"does your feeling +represent his?" + +"My husband," she said, "lives for his genius, as he should. You that +know him, why do you ask?" + +"And his heart?" I said, half frightened at my own temerity. + +"Heart?" she answered. "He loves me." + +Her color mounted higher yet; she had a look of pride, almost of +haughtiness. All else seemed forgotten; she had turned away from the +child's little bed, as if it had no existence. It flashed upon me that +something of the poison of her artificial atmosphere was reaching her +already. + +Kenmure's step was heard in the hall, and, with fire in her eyes, she +hastened to meet him. I found myself actually breathing more freely +after the departure of that enchanting woman, in danger of perishing +inwardly, I said to myself, in an air too lavishly perfumed. Bending +over Marian, I wondered if it were indeed possible that a perfectly +healthy life had sprung from that union too intense and too absorbed. +Yet I had often noticed that the child seemed to wear the temperaments +of both her parents as a kind of playful disguise, and to peep at you, +now out of the one, now from the other, showing that she had her own +individual life behind. + +As if by some infantine instinct, the darling turned in her sleep, and +came unconsciously nearer me. With a half-feeling of self-reproach, I +drew around my neck, inch by inch, the little arms that tightened with +a delicious thrill; and so I half reclined there till I myself dozed, +and the watchful Janet, looking in, warned me away. Crossing the entry +to my own chamber, I heard Kenmure and Laura down stairs, but I knew +that I should be superfluous, and felt that I was sleepy. + +I had now, indeed, become always superfluous when they were together, +though never when they were apart. Even they must be separated +sometimes, and then each sought me, in order to discourse about the +other. Kenmure showed me every sketch he had ever made of Laura. There +she was, through all the range of her beauty,--there she was in clay, +in cameo, in pencil, in water-color, in oils. He showed me also his +poems, and, at last, a longer one, for which pencil and graver had +alike been laid aside. All these he kept in a great cabinet she had +brought with her to their housekeeping; and it seemed to me that he +also treasured every flower she had dropped, every slender glove she +had worn, every ribbon from her hair. I could not wonder, seeing his +passion as it was. Who would not thrill at the touch of some such +slight memorial of Mary of Scotland, or of Heloise? and what was all +the regal beauty of the past to him? He found every room adorned when +she was in it, empty when she had gone,--save that the trace of her was +still left on everything, and all appeared but as a garment she had +worn. It seemed that even her great mirror must retain, film over film, +each reflection of her least movement, the turning of her head, the +ungloving of her hand. Strange! that, with all this intoxicating +presence, she yet led a life so free from self, so simple, so absorbed, +that all trace of consciousness was excluded, and she was as free from +vanity as her own child. + +As we were once thus employed in the studio, I asked Kenmure, abruptly, +if he never shrank from the publicity he was thus giving Laura. "Madame +Recamier was not quite pleased," I said, "that Canova had modelled her +bust, even from imagination. Do you never shrink from permitting +irreverent eyes to look on Laura's beauty? Think of men as you know +them. Would you give each of them her miniature, perhaps to go with +them into scenes of riot and shame?" + +"Would to Heaven I could!" said he, passionately. "What else could save +them, if that did not? God lets his sun shine on the evil and on the +good, but the evil need it most." + +There was a pause; and then I ventured to ask him a question that had +been many times upon my lips unspoken. + +"Does it never occur to you," I said, "that Laura cannot live on earth +forever?" + +"You cannot disturb me about that," he answered, not sadly, but with a +set, stern look, as if fencing for the hundredth time against an +antagonist who was foredoomed to be his master in the end. "Laura will +outlive me; she must outlive me. I am so sure of it that, every time I +come near her, I pray that I may not be paralyzed, and die outside her +arms. Yet, in any event, what can I do but what I am doing,--devote my +whole soul to the perpetuation of her beauty? It is my only dream,--to +re-create her through art. What else is worth doing? It is for this I +have tried-through sculpture, through painting, through verse--to +depict her as she is. Thus far I have failed. Why have I failed? Is it +because I have not lived a life sufficiently absorbed in her? or is it +that there is no permitted way by which, after God has reclaimed her, +the tradition of her perfect loveliness may be retained on earth?" + +The blinds of the piazza doorway opened, the sweet sea-air came in, the +low and level rays of yellow sunset entered as softly as if the breeze +were their chariot; and softer and stiller and sweeter than light or +air, little Marian stood on the threshold. She had been in the fields +with Janet, who had woven for her breeze-blown hair a wreath of the +wild gerardia blossoms, whose purple beauty had reminded the good +Scotchwoman of her own native heather. In her arms the child bore, like +a little gleaner, a great sheaf of graceful golden-rod, as large as her +grasp could bear. In all the artist's visions he had seen nothing so +aerial, so lovely; in all his passionate portraitures of his idol, he +had delineated nothing so like to her. Marian's cheeks mantled with +rich and wine-like tints, her hair took a halo from the sunbeams, her +lips parted over the little, milk-white teeth; she looked at us with +her mother's eyes. I turned to Kenmure to see if he could resist the +influence. + +He scarcely gave her a glance. "Go, Marian," he said, not +impatiently,--for he was too thoroughly courteous ever to be +ungracious, even to a child,--but with a steady indifference that cut +me with more pain than if he had struck her. + +The sun dropped behind the horizon, the halo faded from the shining +hair and every ray of light from the childish face. There came in its +place that deep, wondering sadness which is more touching than any +maturer sorrow,--just as a child's illness melts our hearts more than +that of man or woman, it seems so premature and so plaintive. She +turned away; it was the very first time I had ever seen the little face +drawn down, or the tears gathering in the eyes. By some kind +providence, the mother, coming in flushed and beautiful with walking, +met Marian on the piazza, and caught the little thing in her arms with +unwonted tenderness. It was enough for the elastic child. After one +moment of such bliss she could go to Janet, go anywhere; and when the +same graceful presence came in to us in the studio, we also could ask +no more. + +We had music and moonlight, and were happy. The atmosphere seemed more +human, less unreal. Going up stairs at last, I looked in at the +nursery, and found my pet rather flushed, and I fancied that she +stirred uneasily. It passed, whatever it was; for next morning she came +in to wake me, looking, as usual, as if a new heaven and earth had been +coined purposely for her since she went to sleep. We had our usual long +and important discourse,--this time tending to protracted narrative, of +the Mother-Goose description,--until, if it had been possible for any +human being to be late for breakfast in that house, we should have been +the offenders. But she ultimately went downstairs on my shoulder, and, +as Kenmure and Laura were already out rowing, the baby put me in her +own place, sat in her mother's chair, and ruled me with a rod of iron. +How wonderful was the instinct by which this little creature, who so +seldom heard one word of parental severity or parental fondness, knew +so thoroughly the language of both! Had I been the most depraved of +children, or the most angelic, I could not have been more sternly +excluded from the sugar-bowl, or more overwhelmed with compensating +kisses. + +Later on that day, while little Marian was taking the very profoundest +nap that ever a baby was blessed with, (she had a pretty way of +dropping asleep in unexpected corners of the house, like a kitten,) I +somehow strayed into a confidential talk with Janet about her mistress. +I was rather troubled to find that all her loyalty was for Laura, with +nothing left for Kenmure, whom, indeed, she seemed to regard as a sort +of objectionable altar, on which her darlings were being sacrificed. +When she came to particulars, certain stray fears of my own were +confirmed. It seemed that Laura's constitution was not fit, Janet +averred, to bear these irregular hours, early and late; and she +plaintively dwelt on the untasted oatmeal in the morning, the +insufficient luncheon, the precarious dinner, the excessive walking and +boating, the evening damps. There was coming to be a look about Laura +such as her mother had, who died at thirty. As for Marian,--but here +the complaint suddenly stopped; it would have required far stronger +provocation to extract from the faithful soul one word that might seem +to reflect on Marian's mother. + +Another year, and her forebodings had come true. It is needless to +dwell on the interval. Since then I have sometimes felt a regret almost +insatiable in the thought that I should have been absent while all that +gracious loveliness was fading and dissolving like a cloud; and yet at +other times it has appeared a relief to think that Laura would ever +remain to me in the fulness of her beauty, not a tint faded, not a +lineament changed. With all my efforts, I arrived only in time to +accompany Kenmure home at night, after the funeral service. We paused +at the door of the empty house,--how empty! I hesitated, but Kenmure +motioned to me to follow him in. + +We passed through the hall and went up stairs. Janet met us at the head +of the stairway, and asked me if I would go in to look at little +Marian, who was sleeping. I begged Kenmure to go also but he refused, +almost savagely, and went on with heavy step into Laura's deserted room. + +Almost the moment I entered the child's chamber, she waked up suddenly, +looked at me, and said, "I know you, you are my friend." She never +would call me her cousin, I was always her friend. Then she sat up in +bed, with her eyes wide open, and said, as if stating a problem which +had been put by for my solution, "I should like to see my mother." + +How our hearts are rent by the unquestioning faith of children, when +they come to test the love that has so often worked what seemed to them +miracles,--and ask of it miracles indeed! I tried to explain to her the +continued existence of her mother, and she listened to it as if her +eyes drank in all that I could say, and more. But the apparent distance +between earth and heaven baffled her baby mind, as it so often and so +sadly baffles the thoughts of us elders. I wondered what precise change +seemed to her to have taken place. This all-fascinating Laura, whom she +adored, and who had yet never been to her what other women are to their +darlings,--did heaven seem to put her farther off, or bring her more +near? I could never know. The healthy child had no morbid questionings; +and as she had come into the world to be a sunbeam, she must not fail +of that mission. She was kicking about the bed, by this time, in her +nightgown, and holding her pink little toes in all sorts of difficult +attitudes, when she suddenly said, looking me full in the face: "If my +mother was so high up that she had her feet upon a star, do you think +that I could see her?" + +This astronomical apotheosis startled me for a moment, but I said +unhesitatingly, "Yes," feeling sure that the lustrous eyes that looked +in mine could certainly see as far as Dante's, when Beatrice was +transferred from his side to the highest realm of Paradise. I put my +head beside hers upon the pillow, and stayed till I thought she was +asleep. + +I then followed Kenmure into Laura's chamber. It was dusk, but the +after-sunset glow still bathed the room with imperfect light, and he +lay upon the bed, his hands clenched over his eyes. + +There was a deep bow-window where Laura used to sit and watch us, +sometimes, when we put off in the boat. Her aeolian harp was in the +casement, breaking its heart in music. A delicate handkerchief was +lodged between the cushions of the window-seat,--the very handkerchief +she used to wave, in summer days long gone. The white boats went +sailing beneath the evening light, children shouted and splashed in the +water, a song came from a yacht, a steam-whistle shrilled from the +receding steamer; but she for whom alone those little signs of life had +been dear and precious would henceforth be as invisible to our eyes as +if time and space had never held her; and the young moon and the +evening star seemed but empty things unless they could pilot us to some +world where the splendor of her loveliness could match their own. + +Twilight faded, evening darkened, and still Kenmure lay motionless, +until his strong form grew in my moody fancy to be like some carving of +Michel Angelo's, more than like a living man. And when he at last +startled me by speaking, it was with a voice so far off and so strange, +it might almost have come wandering down from the century when Michel +Angelo lived. + +"You are right," he said. "I have been living in a fruitless dream. It +has all vanished. The absurdity of speaking of creative art! With all +my life-long devotion, I have created nothing. I have kept no memorial +of her presence, nothing to perpetuate the most beautiful of lives." + +Before I could answer, the door came softly open, and there stood in +the doorway a small white figure, holding aloft a lighted taper of pure +alabaster. It was Marian in her little night-dress, with the loose blue +wrapper trailing behind her, let go in the effort to hold carefully the +doll, Susan Halliday, robed also for the night. + +"May I come in?" said the child. + +Kenmure was motionless at first: then, looking over his shoulder, said +merely, "What?" + +"Janet said," continued Marian, in her clear and methodical way, "that +my mother was up in heaven, and would help God hear my prayers at any +rate; but if I pleased, I could come and say them by you." + +A shudder passed over Kenmure; then he turned away, and put his hands +over his eyes. She waited for no answer, but, putting down the +candlestick, in her wonted careful manner, upon a chair, she began to +climb upon the bed, lifting laboriously one little rosy foot, then +another, still dragging after her, with great effort, the doll. +Nestling at her father's breast, I saw her kneel. + +"Once my mother put her arm round me, when I said my prayers." She made +this remark, under her breath, less as a suggestion, it seemed, than as +the simple statement of a fact. + +Instantly I saw Kenmure's arm move, and grasp her with that strong and +gentle touch of his which I had so often noticed in the studio,--a +touch that seemed quiet as the approach of fate, and equally +resistless. I knew him well enough to understand that iron adoption. + +He drew her toward him, her soft hair was on his breast, she looked +fearlessly into his eyes, and I could hear the little prayer +proceeding, yet in so low a whisper that I could not catch one word. +She was infinitely solemn at such times, the darling; and there was +always something in her low, clear tone, through all her prayings and +philosophizings, which was strangely like her mother's voice. Sometimes +she paused, as if to ask a question, and at every answer I could see +her father's arm tighten. + +The moments passed, the voices grew lower yet, the candle flickered and +went out, the doll slid to the ground. Marian had drifted away upon a +vaster ocean than that whose music lulled her from without,--upon that +sea whose waves are dreams. The night was wearing on, the lights +gleamed from the anchored vessels, the water rippled serenely against +the low sea-wall, the breeze blew gently in. Marian's baby breathing +grew deeper and more tranquil; and as all the sorrows of the weary +earth might be imagined to exhale themselves in spring through the +breath of violets, so I prayed that it might be with Kenmure's burdened +heart, through hers. By degrees the strong man's deeper respirations +mingled with those of the child, and their two separate beings seemed +merged and solved into identity, as they slumbered, breast to breast, +beneath the golden and quiet stars. I passed by without awaking them, +and I knew that the artist had attained his dream. + + + +IN A WHERRY. + +We have a phrase in Oldport, "What New-Yorkers call poverty: to be +reduced to a pony phaeton." In consequence of a November gale, I am +reduced To a similar state of destitution, from a sail-boat to a +wherry; and, like others of the deserving poor, I have found many +compensations in my humbler condition. Which is the more enjoyable, +rowing or sailing? If you sail before the wind, there is the glorious +vigor of the breeze that fills your sails; you get all of it you have +room for, and a ship of the line could do no more; indeed, your very +nearness to the water increases the excitement, since the water swirls +and boils up, as it unites in your wake, and seems to clutch at the low +stern of your sail-boat, and to menace the hand that guides the helm. +Or if you beat to windward, it is as if your boat climbed a liquid +hill, but did it with bounding and dancing, like a child; there is the +plash of the lighter ripples against the bow, and the thud of the +heavier waves, while the same blue water is now transformed to a cool +jet of white foam over your face, and now to a dark whirlpool in your +lee. Sailing gives a sense of prompt command, since by a single +movement of the tiller you effect so great a change of direction or +transform motion into rest; there is, therefore, a certain magic in it: +but, on the other hand, there is in rowing a more direct appeal to your +physical powers; you do not evade or cajole the elements by a cunning +device of keel and canvas, you meet them man-fashion and subdue them. +The motion of the oars is like the strong motion of a bird's wings; to +sail a boat is to ride upon an eagle, but to row is to be an eagle. I +prefer rowing,--at least till I can afford another sail-boat. + +What is a good day for rowing? Almost any day that is good for living. +Living is not quite agreeable in the midst of a tornado or an +equinoctial storm, neither is rowing. There are days when rowing is as +toilsome and exhausting a process as is Bunyan's idea of virtue; while +there are other days, like the present, when it seems a mere Oriental +passiveness and the forsaking of works,--just an excuse to Nature for +being out among her busy things. For even at this stillest of hours +there is far less repose in Nature than we imagine. What created thing +can seem more patient than yonder kingfisher on the sea-wall? Yet, as +we glide near him, we shall see that no creature can be more full of +concentrated life; all his nervous system seems on edge, every instant +he is rising or lowering on his feet, the tail vibrates, the neck +protrudes or shrinks again, the feathers ruffle, the crest dilates; he +talks to himself with an impatient chirr, then presently hovers and +dives for a fish, then flies back disappointed. We say "free as birds," +but their lives are given over to arduous labors. And so, when our +condition seems most dreamy, our observing faculties are sometimes +desperately on the alert, and we find afterwards, to our surprise, that +we have missed nothing. The best observer in the end is not he who +works at the microscope or telescope most unceasingly, but he whose +whole nature becomes sensitive and receptive, drinking in everything, +like a sponge that saturates itself with all floating vapors and odors, +though it seems inert and unsuspicious until you press it and it tells +the tale. + +Most men do their work out of doors and their dreaming at home; and +those whose work is done at home need something like a wherry in which +to dream out of doors. On a squally day, with the wind northwest, it is +a dream of action, and to round yonder point against an ebbing tide +makes you feel as if you were Grant before Richmond; when you put +about, you gallop like Sheridan, and the winds and waves become a +cavalry escort. On other days all elements are hushed into a dream of +peace, and you look out upon those once stormy distances as Landseer's +sheep look into the mouth of the empty cannon on a dismantled fort. +These are the days for revery, and your thoughts fly forth, gliding +without friction over this smooth expanse; or, rather, they are like +yonder pair of white butterflies that will flutter for an hour just +above the glassy surface, traversing miles of distance before they +alight again. + +By a happy trait of our midsummer, these various phases of wind and +water may often be included in a single day. On three mornings out of +four the wind blows northwest down our bay, then dies to a calm before +noon. After an hour or two of perfect stillness, you see the line of +blue ripple coming up from the ocean till it conquers all the paler +water, and the southwest breeze sets in. This middle zone of calm is +like the noonday of the Romans, when they feared to speak, lest the +great god Pan should be awakened. While it lasts, a thin, aerial veil +drops over the distant hills of Conanicut, then draws nearer and nearer +till it seems to touch your boat, the very nearest section of space +being filled with a faint disembodied blueness, like that which fills +on winter days, in colder regions, the hollows of the snow. Sky and sea +show but gradations of the same color, and afford but modifications of +the same element. In this quietness, yonder schooner seems not so much +to lie at anchor in the water as to anchor the water, so that both +cease to move; and though faint ripples may come and go elsewhere on +the surface, the vessel rests in this liquid island of absolute calm. +For there certainly is elsewhere a sort of motionless movement, as +Keats speaks of "a little noiseless noise among the leaves," or as the +summer clouds form and disappear without apparent wind and without +prejudice to the stillness. A man may lie in the profoundest trance and +still be breathing, and the very pulsations of the life of nature, in +these calm hours, are to be read in these changing tints and shadows +and ripples, and in the mirage-bewildered outlines of the islands in +the bay. It is this incessant shifting of relations, this perpetual +substitution of fantastic for real values, this inability to trust your +own eye or ear unless the mind makes its own corrections,--that gives +such an inexhaustible attraction to life beside the ocean. The +sea-change comes to you without your waiting to be drowned. You must +recognize the working of your own imagination and allow for it. When, +for instance, the sea-fog settles down around us at nightfall, it +sometimes grows denser and denser till it apparently becomes more solid +than the pavements of the town, or than the great globe itself; and +when the fog-whistles go wailing on through all the darkened hours, +they seem to be signalling not so much for a lost ship as for a lost +island. + +How unlike are those weird and gloomy nights to this sunny noon, when I +rest my oars in this sheltered bay, where a small lagoon makes in +behind Coaster's Harbor Island, and the very last breath and murmur of +the ocean are left outside! The coming tide steals to the shore in +waves so light they are a mere shade upon the surface till they break, +and then die speechless for one that has a voice. And even those rare +voices are the very most confidential and silvery whispers in which +Nature ever spoke to man; the faintest summer insect seems resolute and +assured beside them; and yet it needs but an indefinite multiplication +of these sounds to make up the thunder of the surf. It is so still that +I can let the wherry drift idly along the shore, and can watch the life +beneath the water. The small fry cluster and evade between me and the +brink; the half-translucent shrimp glides gracefully undisturbed, or +glances away like a flash if you but touch the surface; the crabs +waddle or burrow, the smaller species mimicking unconsciously the hue +of the soft green sea-weed, and the larger looking like motionless +stones, covered with barnacles and decked with fringing weeds. I am +acquainted with no better Darwinian than the crab; and however clumsy +he may be when taken from his own element, he has a free and floating +motion which is almost graceful in his own yielding and buoyant home. +It is so with all wild creatures, but especially with those of water +and air. A gull is not reckoned an especially graceful bird, but yonder +I see one, snowy white, that has come to fish in this safe lagoon, and +it dips and rises on its errands as lightly as a butterfly or a +swallow. Beneath that neighboring causeway the water-rats run over the +stones, lithe and eager and alert, the body carried low, the head +raised now and then like a hound's, the tail curving gracefully and +aiding the poise; now they are running to the water as if to drink, now +racing for dear life along the edge, now fairly swimming, then devoting +an interval to reflection, like squirrels, then again searching over a +pile of sea-weed and selecting some especial tuft, which is carried, +with long, sinuous leaps, to the unseen nest. Indeed, man himself is +graceful in his unconscious and direct employments: the poise of a +fisherman, for instance, the play of his arm, the cast of his line or +net,--these take the eye as do the stealthy movements of the hunter, +the fine attitudes of the wood-chopper, the grasp of the sailor on the +helm. A haystack and a boat are always picturesque objects, and so are +the men who are at work to build or use them. So is yonder stake-net, +glistening in the noonday light,--the innumerable meshes drooping in +soft arches from the high stakes, and the line of floats stretching +shoreward, like tiny stepping-stones; two or three row-boats are +gathered round it, with fishermen in red or blue shirts, while one +white sail-boat hovers near. And I have looked down on our beach in +spring, at sunset, and watched them drawing nets for the young herring, +when the rough men looked as graceful as the nets they drew, and the +horseman who directed might have been Redgauntlet on the Solway Sands. + +I suppose it is from this look of natural fitness that a windmill is +always such an appropriate object by the sea-shore. It is simply a +four-masted schooner, stranded on a hill-top, and adapting itself to a +new sphere of duty. It can have needed but a slight stretch of +invention in some seaman to combine these lofty vans, and throw over +them a few remodelled sails. The principle of their motion is that by +which a vessel beats to windward; the miller spreads or reefs his +sails, like a sailor,--reducing them in a high wind to a mere +"pigeon-wing" as it is called, two or three feet in length, or in some +cases even scudding under bare poles. The whole structure vibrates and +creaks under rapid motion, like a mast; and the angry vans, +disappointed of progress, are ready to grind to powder all that comes +within their grasp, as they revolve hopelessly in this sea of air. + +When the sun grows hot, I like to take refuge in a sheltered nook +beside Goat Island Lighthouse, where the wharf shades me, and the +resonant plash of waters multiplies itself among the dark piles, +increasing the delicious sense of coolness. While the noonday bells +ring twelve, I take my rest. Round the corner of the pier the +fishing-boats come gliding in, generally with a boy asleep forward, and +a weary man at the helm; one can almost fancy that the boat itself +looks weary, having been out since the early summer sunrise. In +contrast to this expression of labor ended, the white pleasure-boats +seem but to be taking a careless stroll by water; while a skiff full of +girls drifts idly along the shore, amid laughter and screaming and much +aimless splash. More resolute and business-like, the boys row their +boat far up the bay; then I see a sudden gleam of white bodies, and +then the boat is empty, and the surrounding water is sprinkled with +black and bobbing heads. The steamboats look busier yet, as they go +puffing by at short intervals, and send long waves up to my retreat; +and then some schooner sails in, full of life, with a white ripple +round her bows, till she suddenly rounds to drops anchor, and is still. +Opposite me, on the landward side of the bay, the green banks slope to +the water; on yonder cool piazza there is a young mother who swings her +baby in the hammock, or a white-robed figure pacing beneath the +trailing vines. Peace and lotus-eating on shore; on the water, even in +the stillest noon, there are life and sparkle and continual change. + +One of those fishermen whose boats have just glided to their moorings +is to me a far more interesting person than any of his mates, though he +is perhaps the only one among them with whom I have never yet exchanged +a word. There is good reason for it; he has been deaf and dumb since +boyhood. He is reported to be the boldest sailor among all these daring +men; he is the last to retreat before the coming storm; the first after +the storm to venture through the white and whirling channels, between +dangerous ledges, to which others give a wider berth. I do not wonder +at this, for think how much of the awe and terror of the tempest must +vanish if the ears be closed! The ominous undertone of the waves on the +beach and the muttering thunder pass harmless by him. How infinitely +strange it must be to have the sight of danger, but not the sound! +Fancy such a deprivation in war, for instance, where it is the sounds, +after all, that haunt the memory the longest; the rifle's crack, the +irregular shots of skirmishers, the long roll of alarm, the roar of +great guns. This man would have missed them all. Were a broadside from +an enemy's gunboat to be discharged above his head, he would not hear +it; he would only recognize, by some jarring of his other senses, the +fierce concussion of the air. + +How much deeper seems his solitude than that of any other "lone fisher +on the lonely sea"! Yet all such things are comparative; and while the +others contrast that wave-tossed isolation with the cheeriness of home, +his home is silent too. He has a wife and children; they all speak, but +he hears not their prattle or their complaints. He summons them with +his fingers, as he summons the fishes, and they are equally dumb to +him. Has he a special sympathy with those submerged and voiceless +things? Dunfish, in the old newspapers, were often called "dumb'd +fish"; and they perchance come to him as to one of their kindred. They +may have learned, like other innocent things, to accept this defect of +utterance, and even imitate it. I knew a deaf-and-dumb woman whose +children spoke and heard; but while yet too young for words, they had +learned that their mother was not to be reached in that way; they never +cried or complained before her, and when most excited would only +whisper. Her baby ten months old, if disturbed in the night, would +creep to her and touch her lips, to awaken her, but would make no noise. + +One might fancy that all men who have an agonizing sorrow or a fearful +secret would be drawn by irresistible attraction into the society of +the deaf and dumb. What awful passions might not be whispered, what +terror safely spoken, in the charmed circle round yonder silent +boat,--a circle whose centre is a human life which has not all the +susceptibilities of life, a confessional where even the priest cannot +hear! Would it not relieve sorrow to express itself, even if unheeded? +What more could one ask than a dumb confidant? and if deaf also, so +much the safer. To be sure, he would give you neither absolution nor +guidance; he could render nothing in return, save a look or a clasp of +the hand; nor can the most gifted or eloquent friendship do much more. +Ah! but suddenly the thought occurs, suppose that the defect of +hearing, as of tongue, were liable to be loosed by an overmastering +emotion, and that by startling him with your hoarded confidence you +were to break the spell! The hint is too perilous; let us row away. + +A few strokes take us to the half-submerged wreck of a lime-schooner +that was cut to the water's edge, by a collision in a gale, twelve +months ago. The water kindled the lime, the cable was cut, the vessel +drifted ashore and sunk, still blazing, at this little beach. When I +saw her, at sunset, the masts had been cut away, and the flames held +possession on board. Fire was working away in the cabin, like a live +thing, and sometimes glared out of the hatchway; anon it clambered +along the gunwale, like a school-boy playing, and the waves chased it +as in play; just a flicker of flame, then a wave would reach up to +overtake it; then the flames would be, or seem to be, where the water +had been; and finally, as the vessel lay careened, the waves took +undisturbed possession of the lower gunwale, and the flames of the +upper. So it burned that day and night; part red with fire, part black +with soaking; and now twelve months have made all its visible parts +look dry and white, till it is hard to believe that either fire or +water has ever touched it. It lies over on its bare knees, and a single +knee, torn from the others, rests imploringly on the shore, as if that +had worked its way to land, and perished in act of thanksgiving. At low +tide, one half the frame is lifted high in air, like a dead tree in the +forest. + +Perhaps all other elements are tenderer in their dealings with what is +intrusted to them than is the air. Fire, at least, destroys what it has +ruined; earth is warm and loving, and it moreover conceals; water is at +least caressing,--it laps the greater part of this wreck with +protecting waves, covers with sea-weeds all that it can reach, and +protects with incrusting shells. Even beyond its grasp it tosses soft +pendants of moss that twine like vine-tendrils, or sway in the wind. It +mellows harsh colors into beauty, and Ruskin grows eloquent over the +wave-washed tint of some tarry, weather-beaten boat. But air is +pitiless: it dries and stiffens all outline, and bleaches all color +away, so that you can hardly tell whether these ribs belonged to a ship +or an elephant; and yet there is a certain cold purity in the shapes it +leaves, and the birds it sends to perch upon these timbers are a more +graceful company than lobsters or fishes. After all, there is something +sublime in that sepulture of the Parsees, who erect near every village +a dokhma, or Tower of Silence, upon whose summit they may bury their +dead in air. + +Thus widely may one's thoughts wander from a summer boat. But the +season for rowing is a long one, and far outlasts in Oldport the stay +of our annual guests. Sometimes in autumnal mornings I glide forth over +water so still, it seems as if saturated by the Indian-summer with its +own indefinable calm. The distant islands lift themselves on white +pedestals of mirage; the cloud-shadows rest softly on Conanicut; and +what seems a similar shadow on the nearer slopes of Fort Adams is in +truth but a mounted battery, drilling, which soon moves and slides +across the hazy hill like a cloud. + +I hear across nearly a mile of water the faint, Sharp orders and the +sonorous blare of the trumpet That follows each command; the horsemen +gallop and wheel; suddenly the band within the fort strikes up for +guard-mounting, and I have but to shut my eyes to be carried back to +warlike days that passed by,--was it centuries ago? Meantime, I float +gradually towards Brenton's Cove; the lawns that reach to the water's +edge were never so gorgeously green in any summer, and the departure of +the transient guests gives to these lovely places an air of cool +seclusion; when fashion quits them, the imagination is ready to move +in. An agreeable sense of universal ownership comes over the +winter-staying mind in Oldport. I like to keep up this little semblance +of habitation on the part of our human birds of passage; it is very +pleasant to me, and perhaps even pleasanter to them, that they should +call these emerald slopes their own for a month or two; but when they +lock the doors in autumn, the ideal key reverts into my hands, and it +is evident that they have only been "tenants by the courtesy," in the +fine legal phrase. Provided they stay here long enough to attend to +their lawns and pay their taxes, I am better satisfied than if these +estates were left to me the whole year round. + +The tide takes the boat nearer to the fort; the horsemen ride more +conspicuously, with swords and trappings that glisten in the sunlight, +while the white fetlocks of the horses twinkle in unison as they move. +One troop-horse without a rider wheels and gallops with the rest, and +seems to revel in the free motion. Here also the tide reaches or seems +to reach the very edge of the turf; and when the light battery gallops +this way, it is as if it were charging on my floating fortress. Upon +the other side is a scene of peace; and a fisherman sings in his boat +as he examines the floats of his stake-net, hand over hand. A white +gull hovers close above him, and a dark one above the horsemen, fit +emblems of peace and war. The slightest sounds, the rattle of an oar, +the striking of a hoof against a stone, are borne over the water to an +amazing distance, as if the calm bay amid its seeming quiet, were +watchful of the slightest noise. But look! in a moment the surface is +rippled, the sky is clouded, a swift change comes over the fitful mood +of the season; the water looks colder and deeper, the greensward +assumes a chilly darkness, the troopers gallop away to their stables, +and the fisherman rows home. That indefinable expression which +separates autumn from summer creeps almost in an instant over all. +Soon, even upon this Isle of Peace, it will be winter. + +Each season, as winter returns, I try in vain to comprehend this +wonderful shifting of expression that touches even a thing so +essentially unchanging as the sea. How delicious to all the senses is +the summer foam above yonder rock; in winter the foam is the same, the +sparkle as radiant, the hue of the water scarcely altered; and yet the +effect is, by comparison, cold, heavy, and leaden. It is like that +mysterious variation which chiefly makes the difference between one +human face and another; we call it by vague names, and cannot tell in +what it lies; we only know that when expression changes, all is gone. +No warmth of color, no perfection of outline can supersede those +subtile influences which make one face so winning that all human +affection gravitates to its spell, and another so cold or repellent +that it dwells forever in loneliness, and no passionate heart draws +near. I can fancy the ocean beating in vague despair against its shores +in winter, and moaning, "I am as beautiful, as restless, as untamable +as ever: why are my cliffs left desolate? why am I not loved as I was +loved in summer?" + + + +MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS. + +Madam Delia sat at the door of her show-tent, which, as she discovered +too late, had been pitched on the wrong side of the Parade. It was +"Election day" in Oldport, and there must have been a thousand people +in the public square; there were really more than the four policemen on +duty could properly attend to, so that half of them had leisure to step +into Madam Delia's tent, and see little Gerty and the rattlesnakes. It +was past the appointed hour; but the exhibition had never yet been +known to open for less than ten spectators, and even the addition of +the policemen only made eight. So the mistress of the show sat in +resolute expectation, a little defiant of the human race. It was her +thirteenth annual tour, and she knew mankind. + +Surely there were people enough; surely they had money enough; surely +they were easily pleased. They gathered in crowds to hear crazy Mrs. +Green denouncing the city government for sending her to the poorhouse +in a wagon instead of a carriage. They thronged to inspect the load of +hay that was drawn by the two horses whose harness had been cut to +pieces, and then repaired by Denison's Eureka Cement. They all bought +whips with that unfailing readiness which marks a rural crowd; they +bought packages of lead-pencils with a dollar so skilfully distributed +through every six parcels that the oldest purchaser had never found +more than ten cents in his. They let the man who cured neuralgia rub +his magic curative on their foreheads, and allowed the man who cleaned +watch-chains to dip theirs in the purifying powder. They twirled the +magic arrow, which never by any chance rested at the corner +compartments where the gold watches and the heavy bracelets were piled, +but perpetually recurred to the side stations, and indicated only a +beggarly prize of india-rubber sleeve-buttons. They bought ten cents' +worth of jewelry, obtaining a mingled treasure of two breast-pins, a +plain gold ring, an enamelled ring, and "a piece of California gold." +But still no added prizes in the human lottery fell to the show-tent of +Madam Delia. + +As time went on and the day grew warmer, the crowd grew visibly less +enterprising, and business flagged. The man with the lifting-machine +pulled at the handles himself, a gratuitous exhibition before a circle +of boys now penniless. The man with the metallic polish dipped and +redipped his own watch-chain. The men at the booths sat down to lunch +upon the least presentable of their own pies. The proprietor of the +magic arrow, who had already two large breastpins on his dirty shirt, +selected from his own board another to grace his coat-collar, as if +thereby to summon back the waning fortunes of the day. But Madam Delia +still sat at her post, undaunted. She kept her eye on two sauntering +militia-men in uniform, but they only read her sign and seated +themselves on the curbstone, to smoke. Then a stout black soldier came +in sight; but he turned and sat down at a table to eat oysters, served +by a vast and smiling matron of his own race. But even this, though +perhaps the most wholly cheerful exhibition that the day yielded, had +no charms for Madam Delia. Her own dinner was ordered at the tavern +after the morning show; and where is the human being who does not +resent the spectacle of another human being who dines earlier than +himself? + +It grew warmer, so warm that the canvas walls of the tent seemed to +grasp a certain armful of heat and keep it inexorably in; so warm that +the out-of-door man was dozing as he leaned against the tent-stake, and +only recovered himself at the sound of Madam Delia's penetrating voice, +and again began to summon people in, though there was nobody within +hearing. It was so warm that Mr. De Marsan, born Bangs, the wedded +husband of Madam Delia, dozed as he walked up and down the sidewalk, +and had hardly voice enough to testify, as an unconcerned spectator, to +the value of the show. Only the unwearied zeal of the showwoman defied +alike thermometer and neglect, She kept her eye on everything,--on Old +Bill as he fed the monkeys within, on Monsieur Comstock as he hung the +trapeze for the performance, on the little girls as they tried to +peddle their songs, on the sleepy out-of-door man, and on the people +who did not draw near. If she could, she would have played all the +parts in her own small company, and would have put the inexhaustible +nervous energies of her own New England nature (she was born at +Meddibemps, State of Maine) into all. Apart from this potent stimulus, +not a soul in the establishment, save little Gerty, possessed any +energy whatever. Old Bill had unfortunately never learned total +abstinence from the wild animals among which he had passed his life; +Monsieur Comstock's brains had chiefly run into his arms and legs; and +Mr. De Marsan, the nominal head of the establishment, was a peaceful +Pennsylvanian, who was wont to move as slowly as if he were one of +those processions that take a certain number of hours to pass a given +point. This Madam Delia understood and expected; he was an innocent who +was to be fed, clothed, and directed; but his languor was no excuse for +the manifest feebleness of the out-of-door man. "That man don't know +how to talk no more 'n nothin' at all," said Madam Delia reproachfully, +to the large policeman who stood by her. "He never speaks up bold to +nobody. Why don't he tell 'em what's inside the tent? I don't want him +to say no more 'n the truth, but he might tell that. Tell 'em about +Gerty, you nincum! Tell 'em about the snakes. Tell 'em what Comstock +is. 'T ain't the real original Comstock" (this to the policeman), "it's +only another that used to perform with him in Comstock Brothers. This +one can't swaller, so we leave out the knives." + +"Where's t' other?" said the sententious policeman, whose ears were +always open for suspicious disappearances. + +"Didn't you hear?" cried the incredulous lady. "Scattered! Gone! Went +off one day with a box of snakes and two monkeys. Come, now, you must +have heard. We had a sight of trouble pay-in' detectives." + +"What for a looking fellow was he?" said the policeman. + +"Dark complected," was the reply. "Black mustache. He understood his +business, I tell you now. Swallered five or six knives to onst, and +give good satisfaction to any audience. It was him that brought us +Gerty and Anne,--that's the other little girl. I didn't know as they +was his children, and didn't know as they was, but one day he said he +got 'em from an old woman in New York, and that was all he knew." + +"They're smart," said the man, whom Gerty had just coaxed into paying +three cents instead of two for Number Six of the "Singer's Journal,"--a +dingy little sheet, containing a song about a fat policeman, which she +had brought to his notice. + +"You'd better believe it," said Madam Delia, proudly. "At least Gerty +is; Anne ain't. I tell 'em, Gerty knows enough for both. Anne don't +know nothin', and what she does know she don't know sartin. All she can +do is just to hang on: she's the strongest and she does the heavy +business on the trapeze and parallel bars." + +"Is Gerty good on that?" said the public guardian. + +"I tell you," said the head of the establishment.--"Go and dress, +children! Five minutes!" + +All this time Madam Delia had been taking occasional fees from the +tardy audience, had been making change, detecting counterfeit currency, +and discerning at a glance the impostures of one deceitful boy who +claimed to have gone out on a check and lost it. At last Stephen Blake +and his little sister entered, and the house was regarded as full. +These two revellers had drained deep the cup of "Election-day" +excitement. They had twirled all the arrows, bought all the jewelry, +inspected all the colored eggs, blown at all the spirometers, and +tasted all the egg-pop which the festal day required. These delights +exhausted, they looked round for other worlds to conquer, saw Madam +Delia at her tent-door, and were conquered by her. + +She did, indeed, look energetic and comely as she sat at the receipt of +custom, her smooth black hair relieved by gold ear-rings, her cotton +velvet sack by a white collar, and her dark gingham dress by a cheap +breastpin and by linen cuffs not very much soiled. The black leather +bag at her side had a well-to-do look; but all else in the +establishment looked a little poverty-stricken. The tent was made of +very worn and soiled canvas, and was but some twenty-five feet square. +There were no seats, and the spectators sat on the grass. There was a +very small stage raised some six feet; this was covered with some +strips of old carpet, and surrounded by a few old and tattered +curtains. Through their holes you could easily see the lithe brown +shoulders of the little girls as they put on their professional suits; +and, on the other side, Monsieur Comstock, scarcely hidden by the +drapery, leaned against a cross-bar, and rested his chin upon his +tattooed arms as he counted the spectators. Among these, Mr. De Marsan, +pacing slowly, distributed copies of this programme:-- + + THIRTEENTH ANNUAL TOUR. + ---- + MADAM DELIA'S MUSEUM AND VARIETY COMBINATION-WILL EXHIBIT. + ---- + PROCLAMATION TO THE PUBLIC.--The Proprietors would say that + they have abandoned the old and played-out practice of decorating + the outer walls of all principal streets with flaming Posters and + Handbills, and have adopted the congenial, and they trust + successful, plan of advertising with Programmes, giving a full + and accurate description as now organized, which will be + distributed in Hotels, Saloons, Factories, Workshops, and all + private dwellings, by their Special Agents, three days before the + exhibition takes place. + ---- + MADAM DELIA WITH HER + PET SNAKES. + MISS GERTY, + THE CHILD WONDER, + DANSEUSE AND CONTORTIONIST, + + will appear in her wonderful feats at each performance. + + MONS. COMSTOCK, + THE CHAMPION SWORD-SWALLOWER, + + will also exhibit his wonderful power of swallowing Five Swords, + measuring from 14 to 22 inches in length. + + It is not so much the beauty of this feat + that makes it so remarkable, + as its seeming + impossibility. + ---- + MASTER BOBBY, + THE BANJO SOLOIST AND BURLESQUE. + ---- + COMIC ACROBAT, + BY MISS GERTY AND MONS. COMSTOCK. + ---- + MADAM DELIA, + THE WONDERFUL AND ORIGINAL SNAKE-TAMER, + with her Pets, measuring + 12 feet in length and weighing 50 lbs. + A pet Rattlesnake, 15 years of age, captured + on the Prairies of Illinois,-- + oldest on exhibition. + ---- + In connection with this Exhibition there are + ANT-EATERS, AFRICAN MONKEYS, &C. + Cosmoramic Stereoscopic Scenes in the United States and + other Countries, including a view of + the Funeral Procession of President Taylor, + which is alone worth the price + of admission. + ---- + Exhibition every half-hour, during day and evening. + Secure your seats early! + ---- + ADMISSION 20 CENTS. + Particular care will be taken and + nothing shall occur to offend the most fastidious. + + +Stephen and his little sister strolled about the tent meanwhile. The +final preparations went slowly on. The few spectators teased the +ant-eater in one corner, or the first violin in another. One or two +young farmers' boys were a little uproarious with egg-pop, and danced +awkward breakdowns at the end of the tent. Then a cracked bell sounded +and the curtain rose, showing hardly more of the stage than was plainly +visible before. + +Little Gerty, aged ten, came in first, all rumpled gauze and tarnished +spangles, to sing. In a poor little voice, feebler and shriller than +the chattering of the monkeys, she sang a song about the "Grecian +Bend," and enacted the same, walking round and round the stage whirling +her tawdry finery. Then Anne, aged twelve, came in as a boy and joined +her. Both the girls had rather pretty features, blue eyes, and tightly +curling hair; both had pleasing faces; but Anne was solid and +phlegmatic, while Gerty was keen and flexible as a weasel, and almost +as thin. Presently Anne went out and reappeared as "Master Bobby" of +the hills, making love to Gerty in that capacity, through song and +dance. Then Gerty was transformed by the addition of a single scarf +into a "Highland Maid," and danced a fling; this quite gracefully, to +the music of two violins. Exeunt the children and enter "Madam Delia +and her pets." + +The show-woman had laid aside her velvet sack and appeared with bare +neck and arms. Over her shoulders hung a rattlesnake fifteen feet long, +while a smaller specimen curled from each hand. The reptiles put their +cold, triangular faces against hers, they touched her lips, they +squirmed around her; she tied their tails together in elastic knots +that soon undid; they reared their heads above her black locks till she +looked like a stage Medusa, then laid themselves lovingly on her +shoulder, and hissed at the audience. Then she lay down on the stage +and pillowed her head on the writhing mass. She opened her black bag +and took out a tiny brown snake which she placidly transferred to her +bosom; then turned to a barrel into which she plunged her arm and drew +out a black, hissing coil of mingled heads and tails. Her keen, +goodnatured face looked cheerfully at the audience through it all, and +took away the feeling of disgust, and something of the excitement of +fear. + +The lady and the pets retiring, Gerty's hour of glory came. She hated +singing and only half enjoyed character dancing, but in posturing she +was in her glory. Dressed in soiled tights that showed every movement +of her little body, she threw herself upon the stage with a +hand-spring, then kissed her hand to the audience, and followed this by +a back-somerset. Then she touched her head by anslow effort to her +heels; then turned away, put her palms to the ground, raised her heels +gradually in the air, and in this inverted position kissed first one +hand, then the other, to the spectators. Then she crossed the stage in +a series of somersets, then rolled back like a wheel; then held a hoop +in her two hands and put her whole slender body through it, limb after +limb. Then appeared Monsieur Comstock. He threw a hand-spring and gave +her his feet to stand upon; she grasped them with her hands and +inverted herself, her feet pointing skyward. Then he resumed the +ordinary attitude of rational beings and she lay on her back across his +uplifted palms, which supported her neck and feet; then she curled +herself backward around his waist, almost touching head and heels. +Indeed, whatever the snakes had done to Madam Delia, Gerty seemed +possessed with a wish to do to Monsieur Comstock, all but the kissing. +Then that eminent foreigner vanished, and the odors of his pipe came +faintly through the tattered curtain, while Anne entered to help Gerty +in the higher branches. + +A double trapeze--just two horizontal bars suspended at different +heights by ropes and straps--had been swung from the tent-roof. Gerty +ascended to the upper bar, hung from it by her hand, then by her knees, +then by her feet, then sat upon it, leaned slowly backward, suddenly +dropped, and as some children in the audience shrieked in terror, she +caught by her feet in the side-ropes and came up smiling. It was a part +of the play. Then another trapeze was hung, and was set swinging toward +the first, and Gerty flung herself in triumph, with varied somersets, +from one to the other, while Anne rattled the banjo below and sang, + + "I fly through the air with the greatest of ease, + A daring young man on the flying trapeeze." + +Then the child stopped to rest, while all hands were clapped and only +the unreverberating turf kept the feet from echoing also. People +flocked in from outside, and Madam Delia was kept busy at the door. +Then Gerty came down to the lower bar, while Anne ascended the upper, +and hung to it solidly by her knees. Thus suspended, she put out her +hands to Gerty, who put her feet into them, and hung head-downward. +There was a shuddering pause, while the two children clung thus +dizzily, but the audience had seen enough of peril to lose all fear. + +"Those straps are safe?" asked Stephen of Mr. De Marsan. + +"Law bless you, yes," replied that pleasant functionary. "Comstock's +been on 'em." + +Precisely as he spoke one of the straps gave downward a little, and +then rested firm; it was not a half-inch, but it jarred the performers. + +"Gerty, I'm slipping," cried Anne. "We shall fall!" + +"No, we sha'n't, silly," said the other, quickly. "Hold on. Comstock, +swing me the rope." + +Stephen Blake sprang to the stage and swung her the rope by which they +had climbed to the upper bar. It fell short and Gerty missed it. Anne +screamed, and slipped visibly. + +"You can't hold," said Gerty. "Let go my feet. Let me drop." + +"You'll be killed," called Anne, slipping still more. + +"Drop me, I say!" shouted the resolute Gerty, while the whole audience +rose in excitement. Instantly the hands of the elder girl opened and +down fell Gerty, headforemost, full twelve feet, striking heavily on +her shoulder, while Anne, relieved of the weight, recovered easily her +position and slipped down into Stephen's arms. She threw herself down +beside the little comrade whose presence of mind had saved at least one +of them. + +"O Gerty, are you killed?" she said. + +"I want Delia," gasped the child. + +Madam Delia was at her side already, having rushed from the door, where +a surging host of boys had already swept in gratis. Gerty writhed in +pain. Stephen felt her collar-bone and found it bent like a horseshoe; +and she fainted before she could be taken from the stage. + +When restored, she was quite exhausted, and lay for days perfectly +subdued and gentle, sleeping most of the time. During these days she +had many visitors, and Mr. De Marsan had ample opportunity for the +simple enjoyments of his life, tobacco and conversation. Stephen Blake +and his sister came often, and while she brought her small treasures to +amuse Gerty, he freely pumped the proprietor. Madam Delia had been in +the snake business, it appeared, since early youth, thirteen years ago. +She had been in De Marsan's employ for eight years before her marriage, +and his equal and lawful partner for five years since. At first they +had travelled as side-show to a circus, but that was not so good. + +"The way is, you see," said Mr. De Marsan, "to take a place like +Providence, that's a good showtown, right along, and pitch your tent +and live there. Keep-still pays, they say. You'd have to hire a piece +of ground anywhere, for five or six dollars a day, and it don't cost +much more by the week. You can board for four or five dollars a week, +but if you board by the day it's a dollar and a half." To which words +of practical wisdom Stephen listened with pleased interest. It was not +so very many years since he had been young enough to wish to run away +with a circus; and by encouraging these simple confidences, he brought +round the conversation to the children. + +But here he was met by a sheer absence of all information as to their +antecedents. The original and deceitful Comstock had brought them and +left them two years before. Madam Delia had received flattering offers +to take her snakes and Gerty into circuses and large museums, but she +had refused for the child's own sake. Did Gerty like it? Yes, she would +like to be posturing all day; she could do anything she saw done; she +"never needed to be taught nothin'," as Mr. De Marsan asserted with +vigorous accumulation of negatives. He thought her father or mother +must have been in the business, she took to it so easily; but she was +just as smart at school in the winter, and at everything else. Was the +life good for her? Yes, why not? Rough company and bad language? They +could hear worse talk every day in the street. "Sometimes a feller +would come in with too much liquor aboard," the showman admitted, "and +would begin to talk his nonsense; but Comstock wouldn't ask nothin' +better than to pitch such a feller out, especially if he should sarce +the little gals. They were good little gals, and Delia set store by +'em." + +When Stephen and his sister went back that night to their kind +hostesses, Miss Martha and Miss Amy, the soft hearts of those dear old +ladies were melted in an instant by the story of Gerty's courage and +self-sacrifice. They had lived peacefully all their lives in that +motherly old house by the bay-side, where successive generations had +lived before them. The painted tiles around the open fire looked as if +their fops and fine ladies had stepped out of the Spectator and the +Tatler; the great mahogany chairs looked as hospitable as when the +French officers were quartered in the house during the Revolution, and +its Quaker owner, Miss Martha's grand-uncle, had carried out a seat +that the weary sentinel might sit down. Descended from one of those +families of Quaker beauties whom De Lauzun celebrated, they bore the +memory of those romantic lives, as something very sacred, in hearts +which perhaps held as genuine romances of their own. Miss Martha's +sweet face was softened by advancing deafness and by that gentle, +appealing look which comes when mind and memory grow a little dimmer, +though the loving nature knows no change. "Sister Amy says," she meekly +confessed, "that I am losing my memory. But I do not care very much. +There are so few things worth remembering!" + +They kept house together in sweet accord, and were indeed trained in +the neat Quaker ways so thoroughly, that they always worked by the same +methods. In opinion and emotion they were almost duplicates. Yet the +world holds no absolute and perfect correspondence, and it is useless +to affect to conceal--what was apparent to any intimate guest--that +there was one domestic question on which perfect sympathy was wanting. +During their whole lives they had never been able to take precisely the +same view of the best method of grinding Indian meal. Miss Martha +preferred to have it from a wind-mill; while Miss Amy was too +conscientious to deny that she thought it better when prepared by a +water-mill. She said firmly, though gently, that it seemed to her "less +gritty." + +Living their whole lives in this scarcely broken harmony by the margin +of the bay, they had long built together one castle in the air. They +had talked of it for many an hour by their evening fire, and they had +looked from their chamber windows toward the Red Light upon Rose Island +to see if it were coming true. This vision was, that they were to awake +some morning after an autumnal storm, and to find an unknown vessel +ashore behind the house, without name or crew or passengers; only there +was to be one sleeping child, with aristocratic features and a few +yards of exquisite embroidery. Years had passed, and their lives were +waning, without a glimpse of that precious waif of gentle blood. Once +in an October night Miss Martha had been awakened by a crash, and +looking out had seen that their pier had been carried away, and that a +dark vessel lay stranded with her bowsprit in the kitchen window. But +daylight revealed the schooner Polly Lawton, with a cargo of coal, and +the dream remained unfulfilled. They had never revealed it, except to +each other. + +Moved by a natural sympathy, Miss Martha went with Stephen to see the +injured child. Gerty lay asleep on a rather dingy little mattress, with +Mr. Comstock's overcoat rolled beneath her head. A day's illness will +commonly make even the coarsest child look refined and interesting; and +Gerty's physical organization was anything but coarse. Her pretty hair +curled softly round her head; her delicate profile was relieved against +the rough, dark pillow; and the tips of her little pink ears could not +have been improved by art, though they might have been by soap and +water. Warm tears came into Miss Martha's eyes, which were quickly +followed from corresponding fountains in Madam Delia's. + +"Thy own child?" said or rather signalled Miss Martha, forming the +letters softly with her lips. Stephen had his own reasons for leaving +her to ask this question in all ignorance. + +"No, ma'am," said the show-woman. "Not much. Adopted." + +"Does thee know her parents?" This was similarly signalled. + +"No," said Madam Delia, rather coldly. + +"Does thee suppose that they were--" + +And here Miss Martha stopped, and the color came as suddenly and warmly +to her cheeks as if Monsieur Comstock had offered to marry her, and to +settle upon her the snakes as exclusive property. Madam Delia divined +the question; she had so often found herself trying to guess the social +position of Gerty's parents. + +"I don't know as I know," said she, slowly, "whether you ought to know +anythin' about it. But I'll tell you what I know. That child's folks," +she added, mysteriously, "lived on Quality Hill." + +"Lived where?" said Miss Martha, breathless. + +"Upper crust," said the other, defining her symbol still further. "No +middlins to 'em. Genteel as anybody. Just look here!" + +Madam Delia unclasped her leather bag, brought forth from it a mass of +checks and tickets, some bird-seed, a small whip, a dog-collar, and a +dingy morocco box. This held a piece of an old-fashioned enamelled +ring, and a fragment of embroidered muslin marked "A." + +"She'd lived with me six months before she brought 'em," said the +show-woman, whispering. + +The bit of handkerchief was enough. Was it a dream? thought the dear +old lady. What the ocean had refused, was this sprite who had lived +between earth and air to fulfil? Miss Martha bent softly over the +bedside, resting her clean glove on the only dirty mattress it had ever +touched, and quietly kissed the child. Then she looked up with a +radiant face of perfect resolution. + +"Mrs. De Marsan," said she, with dignity that was almost solemnity, "I +wish to adopt this child. No one can doubt thy kindness of heart, but +thee must see that thee is in no condition to give her suitable care +and Christian nurture." + +"That's a fact," interposed Madam Delia with a pang + +"Then thee will give her to me?" asked Miss Martha, firmly. + +Madam Delia threw her apron over her face, and choked and sobbed +beneath it for several minutes. Then reappearing, "It's what I've +always expected," said she. Then, with a tinge of suspicion, "Would you +have taken her without the ring and handkerchief?" + +"Perhaps I should," said the other, gently. "But that seems to make it +a clearer call." + +"Fair enough," said Madam Delia, submitting. "I ain't denyin' of it." +Then she reflected and recommenced. "There never was such a smart +performin' child as that since the world began. She can do just +anythin', and just as easy! Time and again I might have hired her out +to a circus, and she glad of the chance, mind you; but no, I would keep +her safe to home. Then when she showed me the ring and the other +things, all my expectations altered very sudden; I knowed we couldn't +keep her, and I began to mistrust that she would somehow find her +folks. I guess my rathers was that she should, considerin'; but I did +wish it had been Anne, for she ain't got nothin' better in her than +just to live genteel." + +"But Anne seems a nice child, too," said Miss Martha, consolingly. + +"Well, that's just what she is," replied Madam Delia, with some +contempt. "But what is she for a contortionist? Ask Comstock what she's +got in her! And how to run the show without Gerty, that's what beats +me. Why, folks begin to complain already that we advertise swallerin', +and yet don't swaller. But never you mind, ma'am, you shall have Gerty. +You shall have her," she added, with a gulp, "if I have to sell out! Go +ahead!" And again the apron went over her face. + +At this point, Gerty waked up with a little murmur, looked up at Miss +Martha's kind face, and smiled a sweet, childish smile. Half asleep +still, she put out one thin, muscular little hand, and went to sleep as +the old lady took it in hers. A kiss awaked her. + +"What has thee been dreaming about, my little girl?" said Miss Martha. + +"Angels and things, I guess," said the child, somewhat roused. + +"Will thee go home with me and live?" said the lady. + +"Yes'm," replied Gerty, and went to sleep again. + +Two days later she was well enough to ride to Miss Martha's in a +carriage, escorted by Madam Delia and by Anne, "that dull, +uninteresting child," as Miss Amy had reluctantly described her, "so +different from this graceful Adelaide." This romantic name was a rapid +assumption of the soft-hearted Miss Amy's, but, once suggested, it was +as thoroughly-fixed as if a dozen baptismal fonts had written it in +water. + +Madam Delia was sustained, up to the time of Gerty's going, by a sense +of self-sacrifice. But this emotion, like other strong stimulants, has +its reactions. That remorse for a crime committed in vain, which Dr. +Johnson thought the acutest of human emotions, is hardly more +depressing than to discover that we have got beyond our depth in +virtue, and are in water where we really cannot quite swim,--and this +was the good woman's position. During her whole wandering though +blameless life,--in her girlish days, when she charmed snakes at +Meddibemps, or through her brief time of service as plain Car'line +Prouty at the Biddeford mills, or when she ran away from her +step-mother and took refuge among the Indians at Orono, or later, since +she had joined her fate with that of De Marsan,--she had never been so +severely tried. + +"That child was so smart," she said, beneath the evening canvas, to her +sympathetic spouse. "I always expected when we got old we'd kinder +retire on a farm or suthin', and let her and her husband--say Comstock, +if he was young enough--run the business. And even after she showed us +the ring and things, I thought likely she'd just come into her property +somewheres and take care of us. I don't know as I ever thought she'd +leave us, either way, and there she's gone." + +"She won't forget us," said the peaceful proprietor. + +"No," said the wife, "but it's lonesome. If it had only been Anne! I +shall miss Gerty the worst kind. And it'll kill the show!" + +And to tell the truth, the show languished. Nothing but the happy +acquisition of a Chinese giant nearly eight feet high, with slanting +eyes and a long pigtail,--a man who did penance in his height for the +undue brevity of his undersized nation,--would have saved the "museum." + +Meantime the neat proprieties of orderly life found but a poor disciple +in Gerty. Her warm heart opened to the dear old ladies; but she found +nothing familiar in this phantom of herself, this well-dressed little +girl who, after a rapid convalescence, was introduced at school and +"meeting" under the name of Adelaide. The school studies did not dismay +her, but she played the jew's-harp at recess, and danced the clog-dance +in india-rubbers, to the dismay of the little Misses Grundy, her +companions. In the calisthenic exercises she threw beanbags with an +untamed vigor that soon ripped the stitches of the bags, and sowed +those vegetables in every crack of the school-room floor. There was a +ladder in the garden, and it was some comfort to ascend it hand over +hand upon the under side, or to hang by her toes from the upper rung, +to the terror of her schoolmates. + +But she became ashamed of the hardness of her palms, and she grew in +general weary of her life. Her clothes pinched her, so did her new +boots; Madam Delia had gone to Providence with the show, and Gerty had +not so much as seen the new Chinese giant. + +Of all days Sunday was the most objectionable, when she had to sit +still in Friends' Meeting and think how pleasant it would be to hang by +the knees, head downward, from the parapet of the gallery. She liked +better the Seamen's Bethel, near by, where there was an aroma of tar +and tarpaulin that suggested the odors of the show-tent, and where, +when the Methodist exhorter gave out the hymn, "Howl, howl, ye winds of +night," the choir rendered it with such vigor that it was like being at +sea in a northeaster. But each week made her new life harder, until, +having cried herself asleep one Saturday evening, she rose early the +next morning for her orisons, which, I regret to say, were as follows:-- + +"I must get out of this," quoth Gerty, "I must cut and run. I'll make +it all right for the old ladies, for I'll send 'em Anne. She'll like it +here first rate." + +She hunted up such remnants of her original wardrobe as had been +thought worth washing and preserving, and having put them on, together +with a hat whose trimmings had been vehemently burned by Miss Martha, +she set out to seek her fortune. Of all her new possessions, she took +only a pair of boots, and those she carried in her hand as she crept +softly down stairs. + +"Save us!" exclaimed Biddy, who had been to a Mission Mass of +incredible length, and was already sweeping the doorsteps. "Christmas!" +she added, as a still more pious ejaculation, when the child said, +"Good by, Biddy, I'm off now." + +"Where to, thin?" exclaimed Biddy. + +"To Providence," said Gerty. "But don't you tell." + +"But ye can't go the morn's mornin'," said Biddy. "It's Sunday and +there's no cars." + +"There's legs," replied the child, briefly, as she closed the door. + +"It's much as iver," said the stumpy Hibernian, to herself, as she +watched the twinkling retreat of those slim, but vigorous little +members. + +They had been Gerty's support too long, in body and estate, for her to +shrink from trusting them in a walk of a dozen or a score of miles. But +the locomotion of Stephen's horse was quicker, and she did not get +seriously tired before being overtaken, and--not without difficulty and +some hot tears--coaxed back. Fortunately, Madam Delia came down from +Providence that evening, on a very unexpected visit, and at the +confidential hour of bedtime the child's heart was opened and made a +revelation. + +"Won't you be mad, if I tell you something?" she said to Madam Delia, +abruptly. + +"No," said the show-woman, with surprise. + +"Won't you let Comstock box my ears?" + +"I'll box his if he does," was the indignant answer. The gravest +contest that had ever arisen in the museum was when Monsieur Comstock, +teased beyond endurance, had thus taken the law into his own hands. + +"Well," said Gerty, after a pause, "I ain't a great lady, no more 'n +nothin'. Them things I brought to you was Anne's." + +"Anne's things?" gasped Madam Delia,--"the ring and the piece of a +handkerchief." + +"Yes, 'm," said Gerty, "and I've got the rest." And exploring her +little trunk, she produced from a slit in the lining the other half of +the ring, with the name "Anne Deering." + +"You naughty, naughty girl!" said Madam Delia. "How did you get 'em +away from Anne?" + +"Coaxed her," said the child. + +"Well, how did you make her hush up about it?" + +"Told her I'd kill her if she said a single word," said Gerty, +undauntedly. "I showed her Pa De Marsan's old dirk-knife and told her +I'd stick it into her if she didn't hush. She was just such a +'fraid-cat she believed me. She might have known I didn't mean nothin'. +Now she can have 'em and be a lady. She was always tallkin' about bein' +a lady, and that put it into my head." + +"What did she want to be a lady for?" asked Madam Delia, indignantly. + +"Said she wanted to have a parlor and dress tight. I don't want to be +one of her old ladies. I want to stay with you, Delia, and learn the +clog-dance." And she threw her arms round the show-woman's neck and +cried herself to sleep. + +Never did the energetic proprietress of a Museum and Variety +Combination feel a greater exultation than did Madam Delia that night. +The child's offence was all forgotten in the delight of the discovery +to which it led. If there had been expectations of social glories to +accrue to the house of De Marsan through Gerty's social promotion, they +melted away; and the more substantial delight of still having someone +to love and to be proud of,--some object of tenderness warmer than +snakes and within nearer reach than a Chinese giant,--this came in its +stead. The show, too, was in a manner on its feet again. De Marsan said +that he would rather have Gerty than a hundred-dollar bill. Madam Delia +looked forward and saw herself sinking into the vale of years without a +sigh,--reaching a period when a serpent fifteen feet long would cease +to charm, or she to charm it,--and still having a source of pride and +prosperity in this triumphant girl. + +The tent was in its glory on the day of Gerty's return; to be sure, +nothing in particular had been washed except the face of Old Bill, but +that alone was a marvel compared with which all "Election Day" was +feeble, and when you add a paper collar, words can say no more. +Monsieur Comstock also had that "ten times barbered" look which +Shakespeare ascribes to Mark Antony, and which has belonged to that +hero's successors in the histrionic profession ever since. His chin was +unnaturally smooth, his mustache obtrusively perfumed, and nothing but +the unchanged dirtiness of his hands still linked him, like Antaeus, +with the earth. De Marsan had intended some personal preparation, but +had been, as usual, in no hurry, and the appointed moment found him, as +usual, in his shirt-sleeves. Madam Delia, however, wore a new breastpin +and gave Gerty another. And the great new attraction, the Chinese +giant, had put on a black broadcloth coat across his bony shoulders, in +her honor, and made a vigorous effort to sit up straight, and appear at +his ease when off duty. He habitually stooped a good deal in private +life, as if there were no object in being eight feet high, except +before spectators. + +Anne, the placid and imperturbable, was promoted to take the place that +Gerty had rejected, in the gentle home of the good sisters. The secret +of her birth, whatever it was, never came to light but, she took +kindly, as Madam Delia had predicted, to "living genteel," and grew up +into a well-behaved mediocrity, unregretful of the show-tent. Yet +probably no one reared within the smell of sawdust ever quite outgrew +all taste for "the profession," and Anne, even when promoted to good +society, never missed seeing a performance when her wandering friends +came by. If I told you under what name Gerty became a star in the +low-comedy line, after her marriage, you would all recognize it; and if +you had seen her in "Queen Pippin" or the "Shooting-Star" pantomime, +you would wish to see her again. Her first child was named after Madam +Delia, and proved to be a placid little thing, demure enough to have +been born in a Quaker family, and exhibiting no contortions or +gymnastics but those common to its years. And you may be sure that the +retired show-woman found in the duties of brevet-grand-mother a glory +that quite surpassed her expectations. + + + +SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH. + +Near my summer home there is a little cove or landing by the bay, where +nothing larger than a boat can ever anchor. I sit above it now, upon +the steep bank, knee-deep in buttercups, and amid grass so lush and +green that it seems to ripple and flow instead of waving. Below lies a +tiny beach, strewn with a few bits of drift-wood and some purple +shells, and so sheltered by projecting walls that its wavelets plash +but lightly. A little farther out the sea breaks more roughly over +submerged rocks, and the waves lift themselves, before breaking, in an +indescribable way, as if each gave a glimpse through a translucent +window, beyond which all ocean's depths might be clearly seen, could +one but hit the proper angle of vision. On the right side of my retreat +a high wall limits the view, while close upon the left the crumbling +parapet of Fort Greene stands out into the foreground, its verdant +scarp so relieved against the blue water that each inward-bound +schooner seems to sail into a cave of grass. In the middle distance is +a white lighthouse, and beyond lie the round tower of old Fort Louis +and the soft low hills of Conanicut. + +Behind me an oriole chirrups in triumph amid the birch-trees which wave +around the house of the haunted window; before me a kingfisher pauses +and waits, and a darting blackbird shows the scarlet on his wings. +Sloops and schooners constantly come and go, careening in the wind, +their white sails taking, if remote enough, a vague blue mantle from +the delicate air. Sail-boats glide in the distance,--each a mere white +wing of canvas,--or coming nearer, and glancing suddenly into the cove, +are put as suddenly on the other tack, and almost in an instant seem +far away. There is to-day such a live sparkle on the water, such a +luminous freshness on the grass, that it seems, as is so often the case +in early June, as if all history were a dream, and the whole earth were +but the creation of a summer's day. + +If Petrarch still knows and feels the consummate beauty of these +earthly things, it may seem to him some repayment for the sorrows of a +life-time that one reader, after all this lapse of years, should choose +his sonnets to match this grass, these blossoms, and the soft lapse of +these blue waves. Yet any longer or more continuous poem would be out +of place to-day. I fancy that this narrow cove prescribes the proper +limits of a sonnet; and when I count the lines of ripple within yonder +projecting wall, there proves to be room for just fourteen. Nature +meets our whims with such little fitnesses. The words which build these +delicate structures of Petrarch's are as soft and fine and +close-textured as the sands upon this tiny beach, and their monotone, +if such it be, is the monotone of the neighboring ocean. Is it not +possible, by bringing such a book into the open air, to separate it +from the grimness of commentators, and bring it back to life and light +and Italy? + +The beautiful earth is the same as when this poetry and passion were +new; there is the same sunlight, the same blue water and green grass; +yonder pleasure-boat might bear, for aught we know, the friends and +lovers of five centuries ago; Petrarch and Laura might be there, with +Boccaccio and Fiammetta as comrades, and with Chaucer as their stranger +guest. It bears, at any rate, if I know its voyagers, eyes as lustrous, +voices as sweet. With the world thus young, beauty eternal, fancy free, +why should these delicious Italian pages exist but to be tortured into +grammatical examples? Is there no reward to be imagined for a +delightful book that can match Browning's fantastic burial of a tedious +one? When it has sufficiently basked in sunshine, and been cooled in +pure salt air, when it has bathed in heaped clover, and been scented, +page by page, with melilot, cannot its beauty once more blossom, and +its buried loves revive? + +Emboldened by such influences, at least let me translate a sonnet, and +see if anything is left after the sweet Italian syllables are gone. +Before this continent was discovered, before English literature +existed, when Chaucer was a child, these words were written. Yet they +are to-day as fresh and perfect as these laburnum-blossoms that droop +above my head. And as the variable and uncertain air comes freighted +with clover-scent from yonder field, so floats through these long +centuries a breath of fragrance, the memory of Laura. + + SONNET 129. + + "Lieti fiori e felici." + O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers! + 'Mid which my queen her gracious footstep sets; + O plain, that keep'st her words for amulets + And hold'st her memory in thy leafy bowers! + O trees, with earliest green of spring-time hours, + And spring-time's pale and tender violets! + O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets + His blithe rays gild the outskirts of your towers! + O pleasant country-side! O purest stream, + That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear, + And of their living light can catch the beam! + I envy you her haunts so close and dear. + There is no rock so senseless but I deem + It burns with passion that to mine is near. + + +Goethe compared translators to carriers, who convey good wine to +market, though it gets unaccountably watered by the way. The more one +praises a poem, the more absurd becomes one's position, perhaps, in +trying to translate it. If it is so admirable--is the natural +inquiry,--why not let it alone? It is a doubtful blessing to the human +race, that the instinct of translation still prevails, stronger than +reason; and after one has once yielded to it, then each untranslated +favorite is like the trees round a backwoodsman's clearing, each of +which stands, a silent defiance, until he has cut it down. Let us try +the axe again. This is to Laura singing. + + SONNET 134. + + "Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina." + When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, + And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh + Soft as his touch, and leads a minstrelsy + Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine, + He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, + And to my thoughts brings transformation high, + So that I say, "My time has come to die, + If fate so blest a death for me design." + But to my soul thus steeped in joy the sound + Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven, + It holds my spirit back to earth as well. + And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound + The thread of life which unto me was given + By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell. + + +As I look across the bay, there is seen resting over all the hills, and +even upon every distant sail, an enchanted veil of palest blue, that +seems woven out of the very souls of happy days,--a bridal veil, with +which the sunshine weds this soft landscape in summer. Such and so +indescribable is the atmospheric film that hangs over these poems of +Petrarch's; there is a delicate haze about the words, that vanishes +when you touch them, and reappears as you recede. How it clings, for +instance, around this sonnet! + + SONNET 191. + + "Aura che quelle chiome." + Sweet air, that circlest round those radiant tresses, + And floatest, mingled with them, fold on fold, + Deliciously, and scatterest that fine gold, + Then twinest it again, my heart's dear jesses, + Thou lingerest on those eyes, whose beauty presses + Stings in my heart that all its life exhaust, + Till I go wandering round my treasure lost, + Like some scared creature whom the night distresses. + I seem to find her now, and now perceive + How far away she is; now rise, now fall; + Now what I wish, now what is true, believe. + O happy air! since joys enrich thee all, + Rest thee; and thou, O stream too bright to grieve! + Why can I not float with thee at thy call? + + +The airiest and most fugitive among Petrarch's love-poems, so far as I +know,--showing least of that air of earnestness which he has contrived +to impart to almost all,--is this little ode or madrigal. It is +interesting to see, from this, that he could be almost conventional and +courtly in moments when he held Laura farthest aloof; and when it is +compared with the depths of solemn emotion in his later sonnets, it +seems like the soft glistening of young birch-leaves against a +background of pines. + + CANZONE XXIII. + + "Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta." + A new-born angel, with her wings extended, + Came floating from the skies to this fair shore, + Where, fate-controlled, I wandered with my sorrows. + She saw me there, alone and unbefriended, + She wove a silken net, and threw it o'er + The turf, whose greenness all the pathway borrows, + Then was I captured; nor could fears arise, + Such sweet seduction glimmered from her eyes. + +Turn from these light compliments to the pure and reverential +tenderness of a sonnet like this:-- + + SONNET 223. + + "Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama." + Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame + Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy? + Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy + Whom all the world doth as my lady name! + How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame, + How truth is joined with graceful dignity, + There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be + To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim; + There learn soft speech, beyond all poet's skill, + And softer silence, and those holy ways + Unutterable, untold by human heart. + But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill, + This none can copy! since its lovely rays + Are given by God's pure grace, and not by art. + + +The following, on the other hand, seems to me one of the Shakespearian +sonnets; the successive phrases set sail, one by one, like a yacht +squadron; each spreads its graceful wings and glides away. It is hard +to handle this white canvas without soiling. Macgregor, in the only +version of this sonnet which I have seen, abandons all attempt at +rhyme; but to follow the strict order of the original in this respect +is a part of the pleasant problem which one cannot bear to forego. And +there seems a kind of deity who presides over this union of languages, +and who sometimes silently lays the words in order, after all one's own +poor attempts have failed. + + SONNET 128. + + "O passi sparsi; o pensier vaghi e pronti" + O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams! + O changeless memory! O fierce desire! + O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire; + O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams; + O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems + The sole reward that glory's deeds require; + O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire, + That all my days from slothful rest redeems; + O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well + His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move + At his least will; nor can it find relief. + O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell + Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love! + Linger, and see my passion and my grief. + + +Yonder flies a kingfisher, and pauses, fluttering like a butterfly in +the air, then dives toward a fish, and, failing, perches on the +projecting wall. Doves from neighboring dove-cotes alight on the +parapet of the fort, fearless of the quiet cattle who find there a +breezy pasture. These doves, in taking flight, do not rise from the +ground at once, but, edging themselves closer to the brink, with a +caution almost ludicrous in such airy things, trust themselves upon the +breeze with a shy little hop, and at the next moment are securely on +the wing. + +How the abundant sunlight inundates everything! The great clumps of +grass and clover are imbedded in it to the roots; it flows in among +their stalks, like water; the lilac-bushes bask in it eagerly; the +topmost leaves of the birches are burnished. A vessel sails by with +plash and roar, and all the white spray along her side is sparkling +with sunlight. Yet there is sorrow in the world, and it reached +Petrarch even before Laura died,--when it reached her. This exquisite +sonnet shows it:-- + + SONNET 123. + + "I' vidi in terra angelici costumi." + I once beheld on earth celestial graces, + And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known, + Whose memory lends nor joy nor grief alone, + But all things else bewilders and effaces. + I saw how tears had left their weary traces + Within those eyes that once like sunbeams shone, + I heard those lips breathe low and plaintive moan, + Whose spell might once have taught the hills their places. + Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth, + Made ill their mourning strains more high and dear + Than ever wove sweet sounds for mortal ear; + And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth + The very leaves upon the boughs to soothe, + Such passionate sweetness filled the atmosphere. + + +These sonnets are in Petrarch's earlier manner; but the death of Laura +brought a change. Look at yonder schooner coming down the bay, straight +toward us; she is hauled close to the wind, her jib is white in the +sunlight, her larger sails are touched with the same snowy lustre, and +all the swelling canvas is rounded into such lines of beauty as +scarcely anything else in the world--hardly even the perfect outlines +of the human form--can give. Now she comes up into the wind, and goes +about with a strong flapping of the sails, smiting on the ear at a +half-mile's distance; then she glides off on the other tack, showing +the shadowed side of her sails, until she reaches the distant zone of +haze. So change the sonnets after Laura's death, growing shadowy as +they recede, until the very last seems to merge itself in the blue +distance. + + SONNET 251. + + "Gli occhi di ch' io parlai." + Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose, + The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile + Could my own soul from its own self beguile, + And in a separate world of dreams enclose, + The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows, + And the soft lightning of the angelic smile + That changed this earth to some celestial isle, + Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows. + And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn, + Left dark without the light I loved in vain, + Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn; + Dead is the source of all my amorous strain, + Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn, + And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain. + +"And yet I live!" What a pause is implied before these words! the +drawing of a long breath, immeasurably long; like that vast interval of +heart-beats that precedes Shakespeare's "Since Cleopatra died." I can +think of no other passage in literature that has in it the same wide +spaces of emotion. + +The following sonnet seems to me the most stately and concentrated in +the whole volume. It is the sublimity of a despair not to be relieved +by utterance. + + SONNET 253. + + "Soleasi nel mio cor." + She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, + A noble lady in a humble home, + And now her time for heavenly bliss has come, + 'T is I am mortal proved, and she divine. + The soul that all its blessings must resign, + And love whose light no more on earth finds room + Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom, + Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine; + They weep within my heart; and ears are deaf + Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care, + And naught remains to me save mournful breath. + Assuredly but dust and shade we are, + Assuredly desire is blind and brief, + Assuredly its hope but ends in death. + + +In a later strain he rises to that dream which is more than earth's +realities. + + SONNET 261. + + "Levommi il mio pensiero." + Dreams bore my fancy to that region where + She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. + 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be + I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. + She touched my hand, she said, "Within this sphere, + If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: + I filled thy life with war's wild agony; + Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. + My bliss no human brain can understand; + I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil + Of beauty thou dost love shall wear again." + Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand + Ere those delicious tones could quite avail + To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain? + + +It vindicates the emphatic reality and pesonality of Petrarch's love, +after all, that when from these heights of vision he surveys and +resurveys his life's long dream, it becomes to him more and more +definite, as well as more poetic, and is farther and farther from a +merely vague sentimentalism. In his later sonnets, Laura grows more +distinctly individual to us; her traits show themselves as more +characteristic, her temperament more intelligible, her precise +influence upon Petrarch clearer. What delicate accuracy of delineation +is seen, for instance, in this sonnet! + + SONNET 314. + + "Dolci durezze e placide repulse." + Gentle severity, repulses mild, + Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing; + Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring + Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled; + A soft-toned voice, whose accents undefiled + Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring; + The bloom of virtue; purity's clear spring + To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild; + Divinest eyes to make a lover's bliss, + Whether to bridle in the wayward mind + Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss, + Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind; + This sweet completeness of thy life it is + That saved my soul; no other peace I find. + + +In the following sonnet visions multiply upon visions. Would that one +could transfer into English the delicious way in which the sweet +Italian rhymes recur and surround and seem to embrace each other, and +are woven and unwoven and interwoven, like the heavenly hosts that +gathered around Laura. + + SONNET 302. + + "Gli angeli eletti." + + The holy angels and the spirits blest, + Celestial bands, upon that day serene + When first my love went by in heavenly mien, + Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest. + "What light is here, in what new beauty drest?" + They said among themselves; "for none has seen + Within this age come wandering such a queen + From darkened earth into immortal rest." + And she, contented with her new-found bliss, + Ranks with the purest in that upper sphere, + Yet ever and anon looks back on this, + To watch for me, as if for me she stayed. + So strive, my thoughts, lest that high path I miss. + I hear her call, and must not be delayed. + +These odes and sonnets are all but parts of one symphony, leading us +through a passion strengthened by years and only purified by death, +until at last the graceful lay becomes an anthem and a Nunc dimittis. +In the closing sonnets Petrarch withdraws from the world, and they seem +like voices from a cloister, growing more and more solemn till the door +is closed. This is one of the last:-- + + SONNET 309. + + "Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio." + Oft by my faithful mirror I am told, + And by my mind outworn and altered brow, + My earthly powers impaired and weakened now, + "Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!" + Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold, + And Time to his commandments bids us bow. + Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow + In life's long dream no more my sense to fold. + And while I think, our swift existence flies, + And none can live again earth's brief career, + Then in my deepest heart the voice replies + Of one who now has left this mortal sphere, + But walked alone through earthly destinies, + And of all women is to fame most dear. + + +How true is this concluding line! Who can wonder that women prize +beauty, and are intoxicated by their own fascinations, when these +fragile gifts are yet strong enough to outlast all the memories of +statesmanship and war? Next to the immortality of genius is that which +genius may confer upon the object of its love. Laura, while she lived, +was simply one of a hundred or a thousand beautiful and gracious +Italian women; she had her loves and aversions, joys and griefs; she +cared dutifully for her household, and embroidered the veil which +Petrarch loved; her memory appeared as fleeting and unsubstantial as +that woven tissue. After five centuries we find that no armor of that +iron age was so enduring. The kings whom she honored, the popes whom +she revered are dust, and their memory is dust, but literature is still +fragrant with her name. An impression which has endured so long is +ineffaceable; it is an earthly immortality. + +"Time is the chariot of all ages to carry men away, and beauty cannot +bribe this charioteer." Thus wrote Petrarch in his Latin essays; but +his love had wealth that proved resistless and for Laura the chariot +stayed. + + + +A SHADOW. + +I shall always remember one winter evening, a little before +Christmas-time, when I took a long, solitary walk in the outskirts of +the town. The cold sunset had left a trail of orange light along the +horizon, the dry snow tinkled beneath my feet, and the early stars had +a keen, clear lustre that matched well with the sharp sound and the +frosty sensation. For some time I had walked toward the gleam of a +distant window, and as I approached, the light showed more and more +clearly through the white curtains of a little cottage by the road. I +stopped, on reaching it, to enjoy the suggestion of domestic +cheerfulness in contrast with the dark outside. I could not see the +inmates, nor they me; but something of human sympathy came from that +steadfast ray. + +As I looked, a film of shade kept appearing and disappearing with +rhythmic regularity in a corner of the window, as if some one might be +sitting in a low rocking-chair close by. Presently the motion ceased, +and suddenly across the curtain came the shadow of a woman. She raised +in her arms the shadow of a baby, and kissed it; then both disappeared, +and I walked on. + +What are Raphael's Madonnas but the shadow of a mother's love, so +traced as to endure forever? In this picture of mine, the group +actually moved upon the canvas. The curtains that hid it revealed it. +The ecstasy of human love passed in brief, intangible panorama before +me. It was something seen, yet unseen; airy, yet solid; a type, yet a +reality; fugitive, yet destined to last in my memory while I live. It +said more to me than would any Madonna of Raphael's, for his mother +never kisses her child. I believe I have never passed over that road +since then, never seen the house, never heard the names of its +occupants. Their character, their history, their fate, are all unknown. +But these two will always stand for me as disembodied types of +humanity,--the Mother and the Child; they seem nearer to me than my +immediate neighbors, yet they are as ideal and impersonal as the +goddesses of Greece or as Plato's archetypal man. + +I know not the parentage of that child, whether black or white, native +or foreign, rich or poor. It makes no difference. The presence of a +baby equalizes all social conditions. On the floor of some Southern +hut, scarcely so comfortable as a dog-kennel, I have seen a dusky woman +look down upon her infant with such an expression of delight as painter +never drew. No social culture can make a mother's face more than a +mother's, as no wealth can make a nursery more than a place where +children dwell. Lavish thousands of dollars on your baby-clothes, and +after all the child is prettiest when every garment is laid aside. That +becoming nakedness, at least, may adorn the chubby darling of the +poorest home. + +I know not what triumph or despair may have come and gone through that +wayside house since then, what jubilant guests may have entered, what +lifeless form passed out. What anguish or what sin may have come +between that woman and that child; through what worlds they now wander, +and whether separate or in each other's arms,--this is all unknown. +Fancy can picture other joys to which the first happiness was but the +prelude, and, on the other hand, how easy to imagine some special +heritage of human woe and call it theirs! + + "I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, + Lord of thy house and hospitality; + And Grief, uneasy lover, might not rest + Save when he sat within the touch of thee." + +Nay, the foretaste of that changed fortune may have been present, even +in the kiss. Who knows what absorbing emotion, besides love's immediate +impulse, may have been uttered in that shadowy embrace? There may have +been some contrition for ill-temper or neglect, or some triumph over +ruinous temptation, or some pledge of immortal patience, or some +heart-breaking prophecy of bereavement. It may have been simply an act +of habitual tenderness, or it may have been the wild reaction toward a +neglected duty; the renewed self-consecration of the saint, or the joy +of the sinner that repenteth. No matter. She kissed the baby. The +feeling of its soft flesh, the busy struggle of its little arms between +her hands, the impatient pressure of its little feet against her +knees,--these were the same, whatever the mood or circumstance beside. +They did something to equalize joy and sorrow, honor and shame. +Maternal love is love, whether a woman be a wife or only a mother. Only +a mother! + +The happiness beneath that roof may, perhaps, have never reached so +high a point as at that precise moment of my passing. In the coarsest +household, the mother of a young child is placed on a sort of pedestal +of care and tenderness, at least for a time. She resumes something of +the sacredness and dignity of the maiden. Coleridge ranks as the purest +of human emotions that of a husband towards a wife who has a baby at +her breast,--"a feeling how free from sensual desire, yet how different +from friendship!" And to the true mother however cultivated, or however +ignorant, this period of early parentage is happier than all else, in +spite of its exhausting cares. In that delightful book, the "Letters" +of Mrs. Richard Trench (mother of the well-known English writer), the +most agreeable passage is perhaps that in which, after looking back +upon a life spent in the most brilliant society of Europe, she gives +the palm of happiness to the time when she was a young mother. She +writes to her god-daughter: "I believe it is the happiest time of any +woman's life, who has affectionate feelings, and is blessed with +healthy and well-disposed children. I know at least that neither the +gayeties and boundless hopes of early life, nor the more grave pursuits +and deeper affections of later years, are by any means comparable in my +recollection with the serene, yet lively pleasure of seeing my children +playing on the grass, enjoying their little temperate supper, or +repeating 'with holy look' their simple prayers, and undressing for +bed, growing prettier for every part of their dress they took off, and +at last lying down, all freshness and love, in complete happiness, and +an amiable contest for mamma's last kiss." + +That kiss welcomed the child into a world where joy predominates. The +vast multitude of human beings enjoy existence and wish to live. They +all have their earthly life under their own control. Some religions +sanction suicide; the Christian Scriptures nowhere explicitly forbid +it; and yet it is a rare thing. Many persons sigh for death when it +seems far off, but the desire vanishes when the boat upsets, or the +locomotive runs off the track, or the measles set in. A wise physician +once said to me: "I observe that every one wishes to go to heaven, but +I observe that most people are willing to take a great deal of very +disagreeable medicine first." The lives that one least envies--as of +the Digger Indian or the outcast boy in the city--are yet sweet to the +living. "They have only a pleasure like that of the brutes," we say +with scorn. But what a racy and substantial pleasure is that! The +flashing speed of the swallow in the air, the cool play of the minnow +in the water, the dance of twin butterflies round a thistle-blossom, +the thundering gallop of the buffalo across the prairie, nay, the +clumsy walk of the grizzly bear; it were doubtless enough to reward +existence, could we have joy like such as these, and ask no more. This +is the hearty physical basis of animated life, and as step by step the +savage creeps up to the possession of intellectual manhood, each +advance brings with it new sorrow and new joy, with the joy always in +excess. + +There are many who will utterly disavow this creed that life is +desirable in itself. A fair woman in a ball-room, exquisitely dressed, +and possessed of all that wealth could give, once declared to me her +belief--and I think honestly--that no person over thirty was +consciously happy, or would wish to live, but for the fear of death. +There could not even be pleasure in contemplating one's children, she +asserted, since they were living in such a world of sorrow. Asking the +opinion, within half an hour, of another woman as fair and as favored +by fortune, I found directly the opposite verdict. "For my part I can +truly say," she answered, "that I enjoy every moment I live." The +varieties of temperament and of physical condition will always afford +us these extremes; but the truth lies between them, and most persons +will endure many sorrows and still find life sweet. + +And the mother's kiss welcomes the child into a world where good +predominates as well as joy. What recreants must we be, in an age that +has abolished slavery in America and popularized the governments of all +Europe, if we doubt that the tendency of man is upward! How much that +the world calls selfishness is only generosity with narrow walls,--a +too exclusive solicitude to maintain a wife in luxury or make one's +children rich! In an audience of rough people a generous sentiment +always brings down the house. In the tumult of war both sides applaud +an heroic deed. A courageous woman, who had traversed alone, on +benevolent errands, the worst parts of New York told me that she never +felt afraid except in the solitudes of the country; wherever there was +a crowd, she found a protector. + +A policeman of great experience once spoke to me with admiration of the +fidelity of professional thieves to each other, and the risks they +would run for the women whom they loved; when "Bristol Bill" was +arrested, he said, there was found upon the burglar a set of false +keys, not quite finished, by which he would certainly, within +twenty-four hours, have had his mistress out of jail. Parent-Duchatelet +found always the remains of modesty among the fallen women of Paris +hospitals; and Mayhew, amid the London outcasts, says that he thinks +better of human nature every day. Even among politicians, whom it is +our American fashion to revile as the chief of sinners, there is less +of evil than of good. + +In Wilberforce's "Memoirs" there is an account of his having once asked +Mr. Pitt whether his long experience as Prime Minister had made him +think well or ill of his fellow-men. Mr. Pitt answered, "Well"; and his +successor, Lord Melbourne, being asked the same question, answered, +after a little reflection, "My opinion is the same as that of Mr. Pitt." + +Let us have faith. It was a part of the vigor of the old Hebrew +tradition to rejoice when a man-child was born into the world; and the +maturer strength of nobler ages should rejoice over a woman-child as +well. Nothing human is wholly sad, until it is effete and dying out. +Where there is life there is promise. "Vitality is always hopeful," was +the verdict of the most refined and clear-sighted woman who has yet +explored the rough mining villages of the Rocky Mountains. There is apt +to be a certain coarse virtue in rude health; as the Germanic races +were purest when least civilized, and our American Indians did not +unlearn chastity till they began to decay. But even where vigor and +vice are found together, they still may hold a promise for the next +generation. Out of the strong cometh forth sweetness. Parisian +wickedness is not so discouraging merely because it is wicked, as from +a suspicion that it is draining the life-blood of the nation. A mob of +miners or of New York bullies may be uncomfortable neighbors, and may +make a man of refinement hesitate whether to stop his ears or to feel +for his revolver; but they hold more promise for the coming generations +than the line which ends in Madame Bovary or the Vicomte de Camors. + +But behind that cottage curtain, at any rate, a new and prophetic life +had begun. I cannot foretell that child's future, but I know something +of its past. The boy may grow up into a criminal, the woman into an +outcast, yet the baby was beloved. It came "not in utter nakedness." It +found itself heir of the two prime essentials of existence,--life and +love. Its first possession was a woman's kiss; and in that heritage the +most important need of its career was guaranteed. "An ounce of mother," +says the Spanish proverb, "is worth a pound of clergy." Jean Paul says +that in life every successive influence affects us less and less, so +that the circumnavigator of the globe is less influenced by all the +nations he has seen than by his nurse. Well may the child imbibe that +reverence for motherhood which is the first need of man. Where woman is +most a slave, she is at least sacred to her son. The Turkish Sultan +must prostrate himself at the door of his mother's apartments, and were +he known to have insulted her, it would make his throne tremble. Among +the savage African Touaricks, if two parents disagree, it is to the +mother that the child's obedience belongs. Over the greater part of the +earth's surface, the foremost figures in all temples are the Mother and +Child. Christian and Buddhist nations, numbering together two thirds of +the world's population, unite in this worship. Into the secrets of the +ritual that baby in the window had already received initiation. + +And how much spiritual influence may in turn have gone forth from that +little one! The coarsest father gains a new impulse to labor from the +moment of his baby's birth; he scarcely sees it when awake, and yet it +is with him all the time. Every stroke he strikes is for his child. New +social aims, new moral motives, come vaguely up to him. The London +costermonger told Mayhew that he thought every man would like his son +or daughter to have a better start in the world than his own. After +all, there is no tonic like the affections. Philosophers express wonder +that the divine laws should give to some young girl, almost a child, +the custody of an immortal soul. But what instruction the baby brings +to the mother! She learns patience, self-control, endurance; her very +arm grows strong, so that she can hold the dear burden longer than the +father can. She learns to understand character, too, by dealing with +it. "In training my first children," said a wise mother to me, "I +thought that all were born just the same, and that I was wholly +responsible for what they should become. I learned by degrees that each +had a temperament of its own, which I must study before I could teach +it." And thus, as the little ones grow older, their dawning instincts +guide those of the parents; their questions suggest new answers, and to +have loved them is a liberal education. + +For the height of heights is love. The philosopher dries into a +skeleton like that he investigates, unless love teaches him. He is +blind among his microscopes, unless he sees in the humblest human soul +a revelation that dwarfs all the world beside. While he grows gray in +ignorance among his crucibles, every girlish mother is being +illuminated by every kiss of her child. That house is so far sacred, +which holds within its walls this new-born heir of eternity. But to +dwell on these high mysteries would take us into depths beyond the +present needs of mother or of infant, and it is better that the greater +part of the baby-life should be that of an animated toy. + +Perhaps it is well for all of us that we should live mostly on the +surfaces of things and should play with life, to avoid taking it too +hard. In a nursery the youngest child is a little more than a doll, and +the doll is a little less than a child. What spell does fancy weave on +earth like that which the one of these small beings performs for the +other? This battered and tattered doll, this shapeless, featureless, +possibly legless creature, whose mission it is to be dragged by one +arm, or stood upon its head in the bathing-tub, until it finally +reverts to the rag-bag whence it came,--what an affluence of breathing +life is thrown around it by one touch of dawning imagination! Its +little mistress will find all joy unavailing without its sympathetic +presence, will confide every emotion to its pen-and-ink ears, and will +weep passionate tears if its extremely soiled person is pricked when +its clothes are mended. What psychologist, what student of the human +heart, has ever applied his subtile analysis to the emotions of a child +toward her doll? + +I read lately the charming autobiography of a little girl of eight +years, written literally from her own dictation. Since "Pet Marjorie" I +have seen no such actual self-revelation on the part of a child. In the +course of her narration she describes, with great precision and +correctness, the travels of the family through Europe in the preceding +year, assigning usually the place of importance to her doll, who +appears simply as "My Baby." Nothing can be more grave, more accurate, +more serious than the whole history, but nothing in it seems quite so +real and alive as the doll. "When we got to Nice, I was sick. The next +morning the doctor came, and he said I had something that was very much +like scarlet fever. Then I had Annie take care of baby, and keep her +away, for I was afraid she would get the fever. She used to cry to come +to me, but I knew it wouldn't be good for her." + +What firm judgment is here, what tenderness without weakness, what +discreet motherhood! When Christmas came, it appears that baby hung up +her stocking with the rest. Her devoted parent had bought for her a +slate with a real pencil. Others provided thimble and scissors and +bodkin and a spool of thread, and a travelling-shawl with a strap, and +a cap with tarletan ruffles. "I found baby with the cap on, early in +the morning, and she was so pleased she almost jumped out of my arms." +Thus in the midst of visits to the Coliseum and St. Peter's, the drama +of early affection goes always on. "I used to take her to hear the +band, in the carriage, and she went everywhere I did." But the love of +all dolls, as of other pets, must end with a tragedy, and here it +comes. "The next place we went to was Lucerne. There was a lovely lake +there, but I had a very sad time. One day I thought I'd take baby down +to breakfast, and, as I was going up stairs, my foot slipped and baby +broke her head. And O, I felt so bad! and I cried out, and I ran up +stairs to Annie, and mamma came, and O, we were all so sorry! And mamma +said she thought I could get another head, but I said, 'It won't be the +same baby.' And mamma said, maybe we could make it seem so." + +At this crisis the elder brother and sister departed for Mount Righi. +"They were going to stay all night, and mamma and I stayed at home to +take care of each other. I felt very bad about baby and about their +going, too. After they went, mamma and I thought we would go to the +little town and see what we could find." After many difficulties, a +waxen head was discovered. "Mamma bought it, and we took it home and +put it on baby; but I said it wasn't like my real baby, only it was +better than having no child at all!" + +This crushing bereavement, this reluctant acceptance of a child by +adoption, to fill the vacant heart,--how real and formidable is all +this rehearsal of the tragedies of maturer years! I knew an instance in +which the last impulse of ebbing life was such a gush of imaginary +motherhood. + +A dear friend of mine, whose sweet charities prolong into a third +generation the unbounded benevolence of old Isaac Hopper, used to go at +Christmas-time with dolls and other gifts to the poor children on +Randall's Island. Passing the bed of a little girl whom the physician +pronounced to be unconscious and dying, the kind visitor insisted on +putting a doll into her arms. Instantly the eyes of the little invalid +opened, and she pressed the gift eagerly to her heart, murmuring over +it and caressing it. The matron afterwards wrote that the child died +within two hours, wearing a happy face, and still clinging to her +new-found treasure. + +And beginning with this transfer of all human associations to a doll, +the child's life interfuses itself readily among all the affairs of the +elders. In its presence, formality vanishes, the most oppressive +ceremonial is a little relieved when children enter. Their influence is +pervasive and irresistible, like that of water, which adapts itself to +any landscape,--always takes its place, welcome or unwelcome,--keeps +its own level and seems always to have its natural and proper margin. + + +Out of doors how children mingle with nature, and seem to begin just +where birds and butterflies leave off! Leigh Hunt, with his delicate +perceptions, paints this well: "The voices of children seem as natural +to the early morning as the voice of the birds. The suddenness, the +lightness, the loudness, the sweet confusion, the sparkling gayety, +seem alike in both. The sudden little jangle is now here and now there; +and now a single voice calls to another, and the boy is off like the +bird." So Heine, with deeper thoughtfulness, noticed the "intimacy with +the trees" of the little wood-gatherer in the Hartz Mountains; soon the +child whistled like a linnet, and the other birds all answered him; +then he disappeared in the thicket with his bare feet and his bundle of +brushwood. + +"Children," thought Heine, "are younger than we, and can still remember +the time when they were trees or birds, and can therefore understand +and speak their language; but we are grown old, and have too many +cares, and too much jurisprudence and bad poetry in our heads." + +But why go to literature for a recognition of what one may see by +opening one's eyes? Before my window there is a pool, two rods square, +that is haunted all winter by children,--clearing away the snow of many +a storm, if need be, and mining downward till they strike the ice. I +look this morning from the window, and the pond is bare. In a moment I +happen to look again, and it is covered with a swarm of boys; a great +migrating flock has settled upon it, as if swooping down from parts +unknown to scream and sport themselves here. The air is full of their +voices; they have all tugged on their skates instantaneously, as it +were by magic. Now they are in a confused cluster, now they sweep round +and round in a circle, now it is broken into fragments and as quickly +formed again; games are improvised and abandoned; there seems to be no +plan or leader, but all do as they please, and yet somehow act in +concert, and all chatter all the time. Now they have alighted, every +one, upon the bank of snow that edges the pond, each scraping a little +hollow in which to perch. Now every perch is vacant again, for they are +all in motion; each moment increases the jangle of shrill +voices,--since a boy's outdoor whisper to his nearest crony is as if he +was hailing a ship in the offing,--and what they are all saying can no +more be made out than if they were a flock of gulls or blackbirds. I +look away from the window once more, and when I glance out again there +is not a boy in sight. They have whirled away like snowbirds, and the +little pool sleeps motionless beneath the cheerful wintry sun. Who but +must see how gradually the joyous life of the animal rises through +childhood into man,--since the soaring gnats, the glancing fishes, the +sliding seals are all represented in this mob of half-grown boyhood +just released from school. + +If I were to choose among all gifts and qualities that which, on the +whole, makes life pleasantest, I should select the love of children. No +circumstance can render this world wholly a solitude to one who has +that possession. It is a freemasonry. Wherever one goes, there are the +little brethren and sisters of the mystic tie. No diversity of race or +tongue makes much difference. A smile speaks the universal language. +"If I value myself on anything," said the lonely Hawthorne, "it is on +having a smile that children love." They are such prompt little beings; +they require so little prelude; hearts are won in two minutes, at that +frank period, and so long as you are true to them they will be true to +you. They need no argument, no bribery. They have a hearty appetite for +gifts, no doubt, but it is not for these that they love the giver. Take +the wealth of the world and lavish it with counterfeited affection: I +will win all the children's hearts away from you by empty-handed love. +The gorgeous toys will dazzle them for an hour; then their instincts +will revert to their natural friends. In visiting a house where there +are children I do not like to take them presents: it is better to +forego the pleasure of the giving than to divide the welcome between +yourself and the gift. Let that follow after you are gone. + +It is an exaggerated compliment to women when we ascribe to them alone +this natural sympathy with childhood. It is an individual, not a sexual +trait, and is stronger in many men than in many women. It is nowhere +better exhibited in literature than where the happy Wilhelm Meister +takes his boy by the hand, to lead him "into the free and lordly +world." Such love is not universal among the other sex, though men, in +that humility which so adorns their natures, keep up the pleasing +fiction that it is. As a general rule any little girl feels some +glimmerings of emotion towards anything that can pass for a doll, but +it does not follow that, when grown older, she will feel as ready an +instinct toward every child. Try it. Point out to a woman some bundle +of blue-and-white or white-and-scarlet in some one's arms at the next +street corner. Ask her, "Do you love that baby?" Not one woman in three +will say promptly, "Yes." The others will hesitate, will bid you wait +till they are nearer, till they can personally inspect the little thing +and take an inventory of its traits; it may be dirty, too; it may be +diseased. Ah! but this is not to love children, and you might as well +be a man. To love children is to love childhood, instinctively, at +whatever distance, the first impulse being one of attraction, though it +may be checked by later discoveries. Unless your heart commands at +least as long a range as your eye, it is not worth much. The dearest +saint in my calendar never entered a railway car that she did not look +round for a baby, which, when discovered, must always be won at once +into her arms. If it was dirty, she would have been glad to bathe it; +if ill, to heal it. It would not have seemed to her anything worthy the +name of love, to seek only those who were wholesome and clean. Like the +young girl in Holmes's most touching poem, she would have claimed as +her own the outcast child whom nurses and physicians had abandoned. + + "'Take her, dread Angel! Break in love + This bruised reed and make it thine!' + No voice descended from above, + But Avis answered, 'She is mine!'" + +When I think of the self-devotion which the human heart can contain--of +those saintly souls that are in love with sorrow, and that yearn to +shelter all weakness and all grief--it inspires an unspeakable +confidence that there must also be an instinct of parentage beyond this +human race, a heart of hearts, cor cordium. As we all crave something +to protect, so we long to feel ourselves protected. We are all infants +before the Infinite; and as I turned from that cottage window to the +resplendent sky, it was easy to fancy that mute embrace, that shadowy +symbol of affection, expanding from the narrow lattice till it touched +the stars, gathering every created soul into the armsof Immortal Love. + + + +FOOTPATHS. + +All round the shores of the island where I dwell there runs a winding +path. It is probably as old as the settlement of the country, and has +been kept open with pertinacious fidelity by the fishermen whose right +of way it represents. In some places, as between Fort Adams and Castle +Hill, it exists in its primitive form, an irregular track above rough +cliffs, whence you look down upon the entrance to the harbor and watch +the white-sailed schooners that glide beneath. Elsewhere the high-road +has usurped its place, and you have the privilege of the path without +its charm. Along our eastern cliffs it runs for some miles in the rear +of beautiful estates, whose owners have seized on it, and graded it, +and gravelled it, and made stiles for it, and done for it everything +that landscape-gardening could do, while leaving it a footpath still. +You walk there with croquet and roses on the one side, and with +floating loons and wild ducks on the other. In remoter places the path +grows wilder, and has ramifications striking boldly across the +peninsula through rough moorland and among great ledges of rock, where +you may ramble for hours, out of sight of all but some sportsman with +his gun, or some truant-boy with dripping water-lilies. There is always +a charm to me in the inexplicable windings of these wayward tracks; yet +I like the path best where it is nearest the ocean. There, while +looking upon blue sea and snowy sails and floating gulls, you may yet +hear on the landward side the melodious and plaintive drawl of the +meadow-lark, most patient of summer visitors, and, indeed, lingering on +this island almost the whole year round. + +But who cares whither a footpath leads? The charm is in the path +itself, its promise of something that the high-road cannot yield. Away +from habitations, you know that the fisherman, the geologist, the +botanist may have been there, or that the cows have been driven home +and that somewhere there are bars and a milk-pail. Even in the midst of +houses, the path suggests school-children with their luncheon-baskets, +or workmen seeking eagerly the noonday interval or the twilight rest. A +footpath cannot be quite spoiled, so long as it remains such; you can +make a road a mere avenue for fast horses or showy women, but this +humbler track keeps its simplicity, and if a queen comes walking +through it, she comes but as a village maid. On Sunday, when it is not +etiquette for our fashionables to drive, but only to walk along the +cliffs, they seem to wear a more innocent and wholesome aspect in that +novel position; I have seen a fine lady pause under such circumstances +and pick a wild-flower; she knew how to do it. A footpath has its own +character, while that of the high-road is imposed upon it by those who +dwell beside it or pass over it; indeed, roads become picturesque only +when they are called lanes and make believe that they are but paths. + +The very irregularity of a footpath makes half its charm. So much of +loitering and indolence and impulse have gone to its formation, that +all which is stiff and military has been left out. I observed that the +very dikes of the Southern rice plantations did not succeed in being +rectilinear, though the general effect was that of Tennyson's "flowery +squares." Even the country road, which is but an enlarged footpath, is +never quite straight, as Thoreau long since observed, noting it with +his surveyor's eye. I read in his unpublished diary: "The law that +plants the rushes in waving lines along the edge of a pond, and that +curves the pond shore itself, incessantly beats against the straight +fences and highways of men, and makes them conform to the line of +beauty at last." It is this unintentional adaptation that makes a +footpath so indestructible. Instead of striking across the natural +lines, it conforms to them, nestles into the hollow, skirts the +precipice, avoids the morass. An unconscious landscape-gardener, it +seeks the most convenient course, never doubting that grace will +follow. Mitchell, at his "Edgewood" farm, wishing to decide on the most +picturesque avenue to his front door, ordered a heavy load of stone to +be hauled across the field, and bade the driver seek the easiest +grades, at whatever cost of curvature. The avenue followed the path so +made. + +When a footpath falls thus unobtrusively into its place, all natural +forces seem to sympathize with it, and help it to fulfil its destiny. +Once make a well-defined track through a wood, and presently the +overflowing brooks seek it for a channel, the obstructed winds draw +through it, the fox and woodchuck travel by it, the catbird and robin +build near it, the bee and swallow make a high-road of its convenient +thoroughfare. In winter the first snows mark it with a white line; as +you wander through you hear the blue-jay's cry, and see the hurrying +flight of the sparrow; the graceful outlines of the leafless bushes are +revealed, and the clinging bird's-nests, "leaves that do not fall," +give happy memories of summer homes. Thus Nature meets man half-way. +The paths of the wild forest and of the rural neighborhood are not at +all the same thing; indeed, a "spotted trail," marked only by the +woodman's axe-marks on the trees, is not a footpath. Thoreau, who is +sometimes foolishly accused of having sought to be a mere savage, +understood this distinction well. "A man changes by his presence," he +says in his unpublished diary, "the very nature of the trees. The +poet's is not a logger's path, but a woodman's,--the logger and pioneer +have preceded him, and banished decaying wood and the spongy mosses +which feed on it, and built hearths and humanized nature for him. For a +permanent residence, there can be no comparison between this and the +wilderness. Our woods are sylvan, and their inhabitants woodsmen and +rustics; that is, a selvaggia and its inhabitants salvages." What +Thoreau loved, like all men of healthy minds, was the occasional +experience of untamed wildness. "I love to see occasionally," he adds, +"a man from whom the usnea (lichen) hangs as gracefully as from a +spruce." + +Footpaths bring us nearer both to nature and to man. No high-road, not +even a lane, conducts to the deeper recesses of the wood, where you +hear the wood-thrush. There are a thousand concealed fitnesses in +nature, rhymed correspondences of bird and blossom, for which you must +seek through hidden paths; as when you come upon some black brook so +palisaded with cardinal-flowers as to seem "a stream of sunsets"; or +trace its shadowy course till it spreads into some forest-pool, above +which that rare and patrician insect, the Agrion dragon-fly, flits and +hovers perpetually, as if the darkness and the cool had taken wings. +The dark brown pellucid water sleeps between banks of softest moss; +white stars of twin-flowers creep close to the brink, delicate sprays +of dewberry trail over it, and the emerald tips of drooping leaves +forever tantalize the still surface. Above these the slender, dark-blue +insect waves his dusky wings, like a liberated ripple of the brook, and +takes the few stray sunbeams on his lustrous form. Whence came the +correspondence between this beautiful shy creature and the moist, dark +nooks, shot through with stray and transitory sunlight, where it +dwells? The analogy is as unmistakable as that between the scorching +heats of summer and the shrill cry of the cicada. They suggest +questions that no savant can answer, mysteries that wait, like Goethe's +secret of morphology, till a sufficient poet can be born. And we, +meanwhile, stand helpless in their presence, as one waits beside the +telegraphic wire, while it hums and vibrates, charged with all +fascinating secrets, above the heads of a wondering world. + +It is by the presence of pathways on the earth that we know it to be +the habitation of man; in the barest desert, they open to us a common +humanity. It is the absence of these that renders us so lonely on the +ocean, and makes us glad to watch even the track of our own vessel. But +on the mountain-top, how eagerly we trace out the "road that brings +places together," as Schiller says. It is the first thing we look for; +till we have found it, each scattered village has an isolated and +churlish look, but the glimpse of a furlong of road puts them all in +friendly relations. The narrower the path, the more domestic and +familiar it seems. + +The railroad may represent the capitalist or the government; the +high-road indicates what the surveyor or the county commissioners +thought best; but the footpath shows what the people needed. Its +associations are with beauty and humble life,--the boy with his dog, +the little girl with her fagots, the pedler with his pack; cheery +companions they are or ought to be. + + "Jog on, jog on the footpath way, + And merrily hent the stile-a: + A merry heart goes all the day, + Your sad one tires in a mile-a." + +The footpath takes you across the farms and behind the houses; you are +admitted to the family secrets and form a personal acquaintance. Even +if you take the wrong path, it only leads you "across-lots" to some man +ploughing, or some old woman picking berries,--perhaps a very spicy +acquaintance, whom the road would never have brought to light. If you +are led astray in the woods, that only teaches you to observe landmarks +more closely, or to leave straws and stakes for tokens, like a gypsy's +patteran, to show the ways already traversed. There is a healthy vigor +in the mind of the boy who would like of all things to be lost in the +woods, to build a fire out of doors, and sleep under a tree or in a +haystack. Civilization is tiresome and enfeebling, unless we +occasionally give it the relish of a little outlawry, and approach, in +imagination at least, the zest of a gypsy life. The records of +pedestrian journeys, the Wanderjahre and memoirs of good-for-noth-ings, +and all the delightful German forest literature,--these belong to the +footpath side of our nature. The passage I best remember in all Bayard +Taylor's travels is the ecstasy of his Thuringian forester, who said: +"I recall the time when just a sunny morning made me so happy that I +did not know what to do with myself. One day in spring, as I went +through the woods and saw the shadows of the young leaves upon the +moss, and smelt the buds of the firs and larches, and thought to +myself, 'All thy life is to be spent in the splendid forest,'I actually +threw myself down and rolled in the grass like a dog, over and over, +crazy with joy." + +It is the charm of pedestrian journeys that they convert the grandest +avenues to footpaths. Through them alone we gain intimate knowledge of +the people, and of nature, and indeed of ourselves. It is easy to hurry +too fast for our best reflections, which, as the old monk said of +perfection, must be sought not by flying, but by walking, "Perfectionis +via non pervolanda sed perambulanda." The thoughts that the railway +affords us are dusty thoughts; we ask the news, read the journals, +question our neighbor, and wish to know what is going on because we are +a part of it. It is only in the footpath that our minds, like our +bodies, move slowly, and we traverse thought, like space, with a +patient thoroughness. Rousseau said that he had never experienced so +much, lived so truly, and been so wholly himself, as during his travels +on foot. + +What can Hawthorne mean by saying in his English diary that "an +American would never understand the passage in Bunyan about Christian +and Hopeful going astray along a by-path into the grounds of Giant +Despair, from there being no stiles and by-paths in our country"? So +much of the charm of American pedestrianism lies in the by-paths! For +instance, the whole interior of Cape Ann, beyond Gloucester, is a +continuous woodland, with granite ledges everywhere cropping out, +around which the high-road winds, following the curving and indented +line of the sea, and dotted here and there with fishing hamlets. This +whole interior is traversed by a network of footpaths, rarely passable +for a wagon, and not always for a horse, but enabling the pedestrian to +go from any one of these villages to any other, in a line almost +direct, and always under an agreeable shade. By the longest of these +hidden ways, one may go from Pigeon Cove to Gloucester, ten miles, +without seeing a public road. In the little inn at the former village +there used to hang an old map of this whole forest region, giving a +chart of some of these paths, which were said to date back to the first +settlement of the country. One of them, for instance, was called on the +map "Old Road from Sandy Bay to Squam Meeting-house through the Woods"; +but the road is now scarcely even a bridle-path, and the most faithful +worshipper could not seek Squam Meeting-house in the family chaise. +Those woods have been lately devastated; but when I first knew that +region, it was as good as any German forest. + +Often we stepped almost from the edge of the sea into some gap in the +woods; there seemed hardly more than a rabbit-track, yet presently we +met some wayfarer who had crossed the Cape by it. A piny dell gave some +vista of the broad sea we were leaving, and an opening in the woods +displayed another blue sea-line before; the encountering breezes +interchanged odor of berry-bush and scent of brine; penetrating farther +among oaks and chestnuts, we came upon some little cottage, quaint and +sheltered as any Spenser drew; it was built on no high-road, and turned +its vine-clad gable away from even the footpath. + +Then the ground rose and we were surprised by a breeze from a new +quarter; perhaps we climbed trees to look for landmarks, and saw only, +still farther in the woods, some great cliff of granite or the derrick +of an unseen quarry. Three miles inland, as I remember, we found the +hearthstones of a vanished settlement; then we passed a swamp with +cardinal-flowers; then a cathedral of noble pines, topped with +crow's-nests. If we had not gone astray by this time, we presently +emerged on Dogtown Common, an elevated table-land, over-spread with +great boulders as with houses, and encircled with a girdle of green +woods and an outer girdle of blue sea. I know of nothing more wild than +that gray waste of boulders; it is a natural Salisbury Plain, of which +icebergs and ocean-currents were the Druidic builders; in that +multitude of couchant monsters there seems a sense of suspended life; +you feel as if they must speak and answer to each other in the silent +nights, but by day only the wandering sea-birds seek them, on their way +across the Cape, and the sweet-bay and green fern embed them in a +softer and deeper setting as the years go by. This is the "height of +ground" of that wild footpath; but as you recede farther from the outer +ocean and approach Gloucester, you come among still wilder ledges, +unsafe without a guide, and you find in one place a cluster of deserted +houses, too difficult of access to remove even their materials, so that +they are left to moulder alone. I used to wander in those woods, summer +after summer, till I had made my own chart of their devious tracks, and +now when I close my eyes in this Oldport midsummer, the soft Italian +air takes on something of a Scandinavian vigor; for the incessant roll +of carriages I hear the tinkle of the quarryman's hammer and the +veery's song; and I long for those perfumed and breezy pastures, and +for those promontories of granite where the fresh water is nectar and +the salt sea has a regal blue. + +I recall another footpath near Worcester, Massachusetts; it leads up +from the low meadows into the wildest region of all that vicinity, +Tatesset Hill. Leaving behind you the open pastures where the cattle +lie beneath the chestnut-trees or drink from the shallow brook, you +pass among the birches and maples, where the woodsman's shanty stands +in the clearing, and the raspberry-fields are merry with children's +voices. The familiar birds and butterflies linger below with them, and +in the upper and more sacred depths the wood-thrush chants his litany +and the brown mountain butterflies hover among the scented vines. +Higher yet rises the "Rattlesnake Ledge," spreading over one side of +the summit a black avalanche of broken rock, now overgrown with +reindeer-moss and filled with tufts of the smaller wild geranium. Just +below this ledge,--amid a dark, dense track of second-growth forest, +masked here and there with grape-vines, studded with rare orchises, and +pierced by a brook that vanishes suddenly where the ground sinks away +and lets the blue distance in,--there is a little monument to which the +footpath leads, and which always seemed to me as wild a memorial of +forgotten superstition as the traveller can find amid the forests of +Japan. + +It was erected by a man called Solomon Pearson (not to give his name +too closely), a quiet, thoughtful farmer, long-bearded, low-voiced, and +with that aspect of refinement which an ideal life brings forth even in +quite uninstructed men. At the height of the "Second Advent" excitement +this man resolved to build for himself upon these remote rocks a house +which should escape the wrath to come, and should endure even amid a +burning and transformed earth. Thinking, as he had once said to me, +that, "if the First Dispensation had been strong enough to endure, +there would have been no need of a Second," he resolved to build for +his part something which should possess permanence at least. And there +still remains on that high hillside the small beginning that he made. + +There are four low stone walls, three feet thick, built solidly +together without cement, and without the trace of tools. The end-walls +are nine feet high (the sides being lower) and are firmly united by a +strong iron ridge-pole, perhaps fifteen feet long, which is imbedded at +each end in the stone. Other masses of iron lie around unused, in +sheets, bars, and coils, brought with slow labor by the builder from +far below. The whole building was designed to be made of stone and +iron. It is now covered with creeping vines and the debris of the +hillside; but though its construction had been long discontinued when I +saw it, the interior was still kept scrupulously clean through the care +of this modern Solomon, who often visited his shrine. + +An arch in the terminal wall admits the visitor to the small roofless +temple, and he sees before him, imbedded in the centre of the floor, a +large smooth block of white marble, where the deed of this spot of land +was to be recorded, in the hope to preserve it even after the globe +should have been burned and renewed. But not a stroke of this +inscription was ever cut, and now the young chestnut boughs droop into +the uncovered interior, and shy forest-birds sing fearlessly among +them, having learned that this house belongs to God, not man. As if to +reassure them, and perhaps in allusion to his own vegetarian habits, +the architect has spread some rough plaster at the head of the +apartment and marked on it in bold characters, "Thou shalt not kill." +Two slabs outside, a little way from the walls, bear these +inscriptions, "Peace on Earth," "Good-Will to Men." When I visited it, +the path was rough and so obstructed with bushes that it was hard to +comprehend how it had afforded passage for these various materials; it +seemed more as if some strange architectural boulder had drifted from +some Runic period and been stranded there. It was as apt a confessional +as any of Wordsworth's nooks among the Trossachs; and when one thinks +how many men are wearing out their souls in trying to conform to the +traditional mythologies of others, it seems nobler in this man to have +reared upon that lonely hill the unfinished memorial of his own. + +I recall another path which leads from the Lower Saranac Lake, near +"Martin's," to what the guides call, or used to call, "The +Philosopher's Camp" at Amperzand. On this oddly named lake, in the +Adirondack region, a tract of land was bought by Professor Agassiz and +his friends, who made there a summer camping-ground, and with one +comrade I once sought the spot. I remember with what joy we left the +boat,--so delightful at first, so fatiguing at last; for I cannot, with +Mr. Murray, call it a merit in the Adirondacks that you never have to +walk,--and stepped away into the free forest. We passed tangled swamps, +so dense with upturned trees and trailing mosses that they seemed to +give no opening for any living thing to pass, unless it might be the +soft and silent owl that turned its head almost to dislocation in +watching us, ere it flitted vaguely away. Farther on, the deep, cool +forest was luxurious with plumy ferns; we trod on moss-covered roots, +finding the emerald steps so soft we scarcely knew that we were +ascending; every breath was aromatic; there seemed infinite healing in +every fragrant drop that fell upon our necks from the cedar boughs. We +had what I think the pleasantest guide for a daylight tramp,--one who +has never before passed over that particular route, and can only pilot +you on general principles till he gladly, at last, allows you to pilot +him. When we once got the lead we took him jubilantly on, and beginning +to look for "The Philosopher's Camp," found ourselves confronted by a +large cedar-tree on the margin of a wooded lake. This was plainly the +end of the path. Was the camp then afloat? Our escort was in that state +of hopeless ignorance of which only lost guides are capable. We scanned +the green horizon and the level water, without glimpse of human abode. +It seemed an enchanted lake, and we looked about the tree-trunk for +some fairy horn, that we might blow it. That failing, we tried three +rifle-shots, and out from the shadow of an island, on the instant, +there glided a boat, which bore no lady of the lake, but a red-shirted +woodsman. The artist whom we sought was on that very island, it seemed, +sketching patiently while his guides were driving the deer. + +This artist was he whose "Procession of the Pines" had identified his +fame with that delightful forest region. He it was who had laid out +with artistic taste "The Philosopher's Camp," and who was that season +still awaiting philosophers as well as deer. He had been there for a +month, alone with the guides, and declared that Nature was pressing +upon him to an extent that almost drove him wild. His eyes had a +certain remote and questioning look that belongs to imaginative men who +dwell alone. It seemed an impertinence to ask him to come out of his +dream and offer us dinner; but his instincts of hospitality failed not, +and the red-shirted guide was sent to the camp, which was, it seemed, +on the other side of the lake, to prepare our meal, while we bathed. I +am thus particular in speaking of the dinner, not only because such is +the custom of travellers, but also because it was the occasion of an +interlude which I shall never forget. As we were undressing for our +bath upon the lonely island, where the soft, pale water almost lapped +our feet, and the deep, wooded hills made a great amphitheatre for the +lake, our host bethought himself of something neglected in his +instructions. + +"Ben!" vociferated he to the guide, now rapidly receding. Ben paused on +his oars. + +"Remember to bo-o-oil the venison, Ben!" shouted the pensive artist, +while all the slumbering echoes arose to applaud this culinary +confidence. + +"And, Ben!" he added, imploringly, "don't forget the dumplings!" Upon +this, the loons, all down the lake, who had hitherto been silent, took +up the strain with vehemence, hurling their wild laughter at the +presumptuous mortal who thus dared to invade their solitudes with +details as trivial as Mr. Pickwick's tomato-sauce. They repeated it +over and over to each other, till ten square miles of loons must have +heard the news, and all laughed together; never was there such an +audience; they could not get over it, and two hours after, when we had +rowed over to the camp and dinner had been served, this irreverent and +invisible chorus kept bursting out, at all points of the compass, with +scattered chuckles of delight over this extraordinary bill of fare. +Justice compels me to add that the dumplings were made of Indian-meal, +upon a recipe devised by our artist; the guests preferred the venison, +but the host showed a fidelity to his invention that proved him to be +indeed a dweller in an ideal world. + +Another path that comes back to memory is the bare trail that we +followed over the prairies of Nebraska, in 1856, when the Missouri +River was held by roving bands from the Slave States, and Freedom had +to seek an overland route into Kansas. All day and all night we rode +between distant prairie-fires, pillars of evening light and of morning +cloud, while sometimes the low grass would burn to the very edge of the +trail, so that we had to hold our breath as we galloped through. +Parties of armed Missourians were sometimes seen over the prairie +swells, so that we had to mount guard at nightfall; Free-State +emigrants, fleeing from persecution, continually met us; and we +sometimes saw parties of wandering Sioux, or passed their great +irregular huts and houses of worship. I remember one desolate prairie +summit on which an Indian boy sat motionless on horseback; his bare red +legs clung closely to the white sides of his horse; a gorgeous sunset +was unrolled behind him, and he might have seemed the last of his race, +just departing for the hunting-grounds of the blest. More often the +horizon showed no human outline, and the sun set cloudless, and +elongated into pear-shaped outlines, as behind ocean-waves. But I +remember best the excitement that filled our breasts when we approached +spots where the contest for a free soil had already been sealed with +blood. In those days, as one went to Pennsylvania to study coal +formations, or to Lake Superior for copper, so one went to Kansas for +men. "Every footpath on this planet," said a rare thinker, "may lead to +the door of a hero," and that trail into Kansas ended rightly at the +tent-door of John Brown. + +And later, who that knew them can forget the picket-paths that were +worn throughout the Sea Islands of South Carolina,--paths that wound +along the shores of creeks or through the depths of woods, where the +great wild roses tossed their airy festoons above your head, and the +brilliant lizards glanced across your track, and your horse's ears +suddenly pointed forward and his pace grew uneasy as he snuffed the +presence of something you could not see. At night you had often to ride +from picket to picket in dense darkness, trusting to the horse to find +his way, or sometimes dismounting to feel with your hands for the +track, while the great Southern fire-flies offered their floating +lanterns for guidance, and the hoarse "Chuck-will's-widow" croaked +ominously from the trees, and the great guns of the siege of Charleston +throbbed more faintly than the drumming of a partridge, far away. Those +islands are everywhere so intersected by dikes and ledges and winding +creeks as to form a natural military region, like La Vendee and yet two +plantations that are twenty miles asunder by the road will sometimes be +united by a footpath which a negro can traverse in two hours. These +tracks are limited in distance by the island formation, but they assume +a greater importance as you penetrate the mainland; they then join +great States instead of mere plantations, and if you ask whither one of +them leads, you are told "To Alabama," or "To Tennessee." + +Time would fail to tell of that wandering path which leads to the Mine +Mountain near Brattleborough, where you climb the high peak at last, +and perhaps see the showers come up the Connecticut till they patter on +the leaves beneath you, and then, swerving, pass up the black ravine +and leave you unwet. Or of those among the White Mountains, gorgeous +with great red lilies which presently seem to take flight in a cloud of +butterflies that match their tints,--paths where the balsamic air +caresses you in light breezes, and masses of alder-berries rise above +the waving ferns. Or of the paths that lead beside many a little New +England stream, whose bank is lost to sight in a smooth green slope of +grape-vine: the lower shoots rest upon the quiet water, but the upper +masses are crowned by a white wreath of alder-blooms; beside them grow +great masses of wild-roses, and the simultaneous blossoms and berries +of the gaudy nightshade. Or of those winding tracks that lead here and +there among the flat stones of peaceful old graveyards, so entwined +with grass and flowers that every spray of sweetbrier seems to tell +more of life than all the accumulated epitaphs can tell of death. + +And when the paths that one has personally traversed are exhausted, +memory holds almost as clearly those which the poets have trodden for +us,--those innumerable by-ways of Shakespeare, each more real than any +high-road in England; or Chaucer's + + "Little path I found + Of mintes full and fennell greene"; + +or Spenser's + + "Pathes and alleies wide + With footing worne"; + +or the path of Browning's "Pippa" + + "Down the hillside, up the glen, + Love me as I love!" + +or the weary tracks by which "Little Nell" wandered; or the haunted way +in Sydney Dobell's ballad, + + "Ravelstone, Ravelstone, + The merry path that leads + Down the golden morning hills, + And through the silver meads"; + +or the few American paths that genius has yet idealized; that where +Hawthorne's "David Swan" slept, or that which Thoreau found upon the +banks of Walden Pond, or where Whittier parted with his childhood's +playmate on Ramoth Hill. It is not heights, or depths, or spaces that +make the world worth living in; for the fairest landscape needs still +to be garlanded by the imagination,--to become classic with noble deeds +and romantic with dreams. + +Go where we please in nature, we receive in proportion as we give. Ivo, +the old Bishop of Chartres, wrote, that "neither the secret depth of +woods nor the tops of mountains make man blessed, if he has not with +him solitude of mind, the sabbath of the heart, and tranquillity of +conscience." There are many roads, but one termination; and Plato says, +in his "Republic," that the point where all paths meet is the soul's +true resting-place and the journey's end. + + + +The End. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Oldport Days, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLDPORT DAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 2418.txt or 2418.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/2418/ + +Produced by Judy Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + +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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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Note: I have closed contractions in the text, e.g., "did n't" +becoming "didn't" for example; I have also added the missing +period after "caress" in line 11 of page 61, and have changed +"ever" to "over" in line 16 of page 121. + +OLDPORT DAYS. + + +BY + +THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. + +BOSTON: +LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. +NEW YORK: +CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. +1888. + + + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, +BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO., +in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + +University Press: +JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. + + + +CONTENTS. + +OLDPORT IN WINTER +OLDPORT WHARVES +THE HAUNTED WINDOW +A DRIFT-WOOD FIRE +AN ARTIST'S CREATION +IN A WHERRY +MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS +SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH +A SHADOW +FOOTPATHS + + +OLDPORT DAYS. + + +OLDPORT IN WINTER. + +Our August life rushes by, in Oldport, as if we were all shot +from the mouth of a cannon, and were endeavoring to exchange +visiting-cards on the way. But in September, when the great +hotels are closed, and the bronze dogs that guarded the portals +of the Ocean House are collected sadly in the music pavilion, +nose to nose; when the last four-in-hand has departed, and a man +may drive a solitary horse on the avenue without a pang,--then we +know that "the season" is over. Winter is yet several months +away,--months of the most delicious autumn weather that the +American climate holds. But to the human bird of passage all that +is not summer is winter; and those who seek Oldport most eagerly +for two months are often those who regard it as uninhabitable for +the other ten. + +The Persian poet Saadi says that in a certain region of Armenia, +where he travelled, people never died the natural death. But once +a year they met on a certain plain, and occupied themselves with +recreation, in the midst of which individuals of every rank and +age would suddenly stop, make a reverence to the west, and, +setting out at full speed toward that part of the desert, be seen +no more. It is quite in this fashion that guests disappear from +Oldport when the season ends. They also are apt to go toward the +west, but by steamboat. It is pathetic, on occasion of each +annual bereavement, to observe the wonted looks and language of +despair among those who linger behind; and it needs some +fortitude to think of spending the winter near such a Wharf of +Sighs. + +But we console ourselves. Each season brings its own attractions. +In summer one may relish what is new in Oldport, as the liveries, +the incomes, the manners. There is often a delicious freshness +about these exhibitions; it is a pleasure to see some opulent +citizen in his first kid gloves. His new-born splendor stands in +such brilliant relief against the confirmed respectability of +the"Old Stone Mill," the only thing on the Atlantic shore which +has had time to forget its birthday! But in winter the Old Mill +gives the tone to the society around it; we then bethink +ourselves of the crown upon our Trinity Church steeple, and +resolve that the courtesies of a bygone age shall yet linger +here. Is there any other place in America where gentlemen still +take off their hats to one another on the public promenade? The +hat is here what it still is in Southern Europe,--the lineal +successor of the sword as the mark of a gentleman. It is noticed +that, in going from Oldport to New York or Boston, one is liable +to be betrayed by an over-flourish of the hat, as is an Arkansas +man by a display of the bowie-knife. + +Winter also imparts to these spacious estates a dignity that is +sometimes wanting in summer. I like to stroll over them during +this epoch of desertion, just as once, when I happened to hold +the keys of a church, it seemed pleasant to sit, on a week-day, +among its empty pews. The silent walls appeared to hold the pure +essence of the prayers of a generation, while the routine and the +ennui had vanished all away. One may here do the same with +fashion as there with devotion, extracting its finer flavors, if +such there be, unalloyed by vulgarity or sin. In the winter I can +fancy these fine houses tenanted by a true nobility; all the sons +are brave, and all the daughters virtuous. These balconies have +heard the sighs of passion without selfishness; those cedarn +alleys have admitted only vows that were never broken. If the +occupant of the house be unknown, even by name, so much the +better. And from homes more familiar, what lovely childish faces +seem still to gaze from the doorways, what graceful Absences (to +borrow a certain poet's phrase) are haunting those windows! + +There is a sense of winter quiet that makes a stranger soon feel +at home in Oldport, while the prospective stir of next summer +precludes all feeling of stagnation. Commonly, in quiet places, +one suffers from the knowledge that everybody would prefer to be +unquiet; but nobody has any such longing here. Doubtless there +are aged persons who deplore the good old times when the Oldport +mail-bags were larger than those arriving at New York. But if it +were so now, what memories would there be to talk about? If you +wish for"Syrian peace, immortal leisure,"--a place where no grown +person ever walks rapidly along the street, and where few care +enough for rain to open an umbrella or walk faster,--come here. + +My abode is on a broad, sunny street, with a few great elms +overhead, and with large old houses and grass-banks opposite. +There is so little snow that the outlook in the depth of winter +is often merely that of a paler and leafless summer, and a soft, +springlike sky almost always spreads above. Past the window +streams an endless sunny panorama (for the house fronts the chief +thoroughfare between country and town),--relics of summer +equipages in faded grandeur; great, fragrant hay-carts; vast +moving mounds of golden straw; loads of crimson onions; heaps of +pale green cabbages; piles of gray tree-prunings, looking as if +the patrician trees were sending their superfluous wealth of +branches to enrich the impoverished orchards of the Poor Farm; +wagons of sea-weed just from the beach, with bright, moist hues, +and dripping with sea-water and sea-memories, each weed an +argosy, bearing its own wild histories. At this season, the very +houses move, and roll slowly by, looking round for more lucrative +quarters next season. Never have I seen real estate made so +transportable as in Oldport. The purchaser, after finishing and +furnishing to his fancy, puts his name on the door, and on the +fence a large white placard inscribed "For sale". Then his +household arrangements are complete, and he can sit down to enjoy +himself. + +By a side-glance from our window, one may look down an ancient +street, which in some early epoch of the world's freshness +received the name of Spring Street. A certain lively lady, +addicted to daring Scriptural interpretations, thinks that there +is some mistake in the current versions of Genesis, and that it +was Spring Street which was created in the beginning, and the +heavens and earth at some subsequent period. There are houses in +Spring Street, and there is a confectioner's shop; but it is not +often that a sound comes across its rugged pavements, save +perchance (in summer) the drone of an ancient hand-organ, such as +might have been devised by Adam to console his Eve when Paradise +was lost. Yet of late the desecrating hammer and the ear-piercing +saw have entered that haunt of ancient peace. May it be long ere +any such invasion reaches those strange little wharves in the +lower town, full of small, black, gambrel-roofed houses, with +projecting eaves that might almost serve for piazzas. It is +possible for an unpainted wooden building to assume, in this +climate, a more time-worn aspect than that of any stone; and on +these wharves everything is so old, and yet so stunted, you might +fancy that the houses had been sent down there to play during +their childhood, and that nobody had ever remembered to fetch +them back. + +The ancient aspect of things around us, joined with the softening +influences of the Gulf Stream, imparts an air of chronic languor +to the special types of society which here prevail in +winter,--as, for instance, people of leisure, trades-people +living on their summer's gains, and, finally, fishermen. Those +who pursue this last laborious calling are always lazy to the +eye, for they are on shore only in lazy moments. They work by +night or at early dawn, and by day they perhaps lie about on the +rocks, or sit upon one heel beside a fish-house door. I knew a +missionary who resigned his post at the Isles of Shoals because +it was impossible to keep the Sunday worshippers from lying at +full length on the seats. Our boatmen have the same habit, and +there is a certain dreaminess about them, in whatever posture. +Indeed, they remind one quite closely of the German boatman in +Uhland, who carried his reveries so far as to accept three fees +from one passenger. + +But the truth is, that in Oldport we all incline to the attitude +of repose. Now and then a man comes here, from farther east, with +the New England fever in his blood, and with a pestilent desire +to do something. You hear of him, presently, proposing that the +Town Hall should be repainted. Opposition would require too much +effort, and the thing is done. But the Gulf Stream soon takes its +revenge on the intruder, and gradually repaints him also, with +its own soft and mellow tints. In a few years he would no more +bestir himself to fight for a change than to fight against it. + +It makes us smile a little, therefore, to observe that universal +delusion among the summer visitors, that we spend all winter in +active preparations for next season. Not so; we all devote it +solely to meditations on the season past. I observe that nobody +in Oldport ever believes in any coming summer. Perhaps the tide +is turned, we think, and people will go somewhere else. You do +not find us altering our houses in December, or building out new +piazzas even in March. We wait till the people have actually come +to occupy them. The preparation for visitors is made after the +visitors have arrived. This may not be the way in which things +are done in what are called "smart business places." But it is +our way in Oldport. + +It is another delusion to suppose that we are bored by this long +epoch of inactivity. Not at all; we enjoy it. If you enter a shop +in winter, you will find everybody rejoiced to see you--as a +friend; but if it turns out that you have come as a customer, +people will look a little disappointed. It is rather +inconsiderate of you to make such demands out of season. Winter +is not exactly the time for that sort of thing. It seems rather +to violate the conditions of the truce. Could you not postpone +the affair till next July? Every country has its customs; I +observe that in some places, New York for instance, the +shopkeepers seem rather to enjoy a "field-day" when the sun and +the customers are out. In Oldport, on the contrary, men's spirits +droop at such times, and they go through their business sadly. +They force themselves to it during the summer, perhaps,--for one +must make some sacrifices,--but in winter it is inappropriate as +strawberries and cream. + +The same spirit of repose pervades the streets. Nobody ever looks +in a hurry, or as if an hour's delay would affect the thing in +hand. The nearest approach to a mob is when some stranger, +thinking himself late for the train (as if the thing were +possible), is tempted to run a few steps along the sidewalk. On +such an occasion I have seen doors open, and heads thrust out. +But ordinarily even the physicians drive slowly, as if they +wished to disguise their profession, or to soothe the nerves of +some patient who may be gazing from a window. + +Yet they are not to be censured, since Death, their antagonist, +here drives slowly too. The number of the aged among us is +surprising, and explains some phenomena otherwise strange. You +will notice, for instance, that there are no posts before the +houses in Oldport to which horses may be tied. Fashionable +visitors might infer that every horse is supposed to be attended +by a groom. Yet the tradition is, that there were once as many +posts here as elsewhere, but that they were removed to get rid of +the multitude of old men who leaned all day against them. It +obstructed the passing. And these aged citizens, while permitted +to linger at their posts, were gossiping about men still older, +in earthly or heavenly habitations, and the sensation of +longevity went on accumulating indefinitely in their talk. Their +very disputes had a flavor of antiquity, and involved the +reputation of female relatives to the third or fourth generation. +An old fisherman testified in our Police Court, the other day, in +narrating the progress of a street quarrel; "Then I called him +'Polly Garter,'--that's his grandmother; and he called me 'Susy +Reynolds,'--that's my aunt that's dead and gone." + +In towns like this, from which the young men mostly migrate, the +work of life devolves upon the venerable and the very young. When +I first came to Oldport, it appeared to me that every institution +was conducted by a boy and his grandfather. This seemed the case, +for instance, with the bank that consented to assume the slender +responsibility of my deposits. It was further to be observed, +that, if the elder official was absent for a day, the boy carried +on the proceedings unaided; while if the boy also wished to amuse +himself elsewhere, a worthy neighbor from across the way came in +to fill the places of both. Seeing this, I retained my small hold +upon the concern with fresh tenacity; for who knew but some day, +when the directors also had gone on a picnic, the senior +depositor might take his turn at the helm? It may savor of +self-confidence, but it has always seemed to me, that, with one +day's control of a bank, even in these degenerate times, +something might be done which would quite astonish the +stockholders. + +Longer acquaintance has, however, revealed the fact, that these +Oldport institutions stand out as models of strict discipline +beside their suburban compeers. A friend of mine declares that he +went lately into a country bank, nearby, and found no one on +duty. Being of opinion that there should always be someone behind +the counter of a bank, he went there himself. Wishing to be +informed as to the resources of his establishment, he explored +desks and vaults, found a good deal of paper of different kinds, +and some rich veins of copper, but no cashier. Going to the door +again in some anxiety, he encountered a casual school-boy, who +kindly told him that he did not know where the financial officer +might be at the precise moment of inquiry, but that half an hour +before he was on the wharf, fishing. + +Death comes to the aged at last, however, even in Oldport. We +have lately lost, for instance, that patient old postman, +serenest among our human antiquities, whose deliberate tread +might have imparted a tone of repose to Broadway, could any +imagination have transferred him thither. Through him the +correspondence of other days came softened of all immediate +solicitude. Ere it reached you, friends had died or recovered, +debtors had repented, creditors grown kind, or your children had +paid your debts. Perils had passed, hopes were chastened, and the +most eager expectant took calmly the missive from that +tranquillizing hand. Meeting his friends and clients with a step +so slow that it did not even stop rapidly, he, like Tennyson's +Mariana, slowly + "From his bosom drew + Old letters." + +But a summons came at last, not to be postponed even by him. One +day he delivered his mail as usual, with no undue precipitation; +on the next, the blameless soul was himself taken and forwarded +on some celestial route. + +Irreparable would have seemed his loss, did there not still +linger among us certain types of human antiquity that might seem +to disprove the fabled youth of America. One veteran I daily +meet, of uncertain age, perhaps, but with at least that air of +brevet antiquity which long years of unruffled indolence can +give. He looks as if he had spent at least half a lifetime on the +sunny slope of some beach, and the other half in leaning upon his +elbows at the window of some sailor boarding-house. He is hale +and broad, with a head sunk between two strong shoulders; his +beard falls like snow upon his breast, longer and longer each +year, while his slumberous thoughts seem to move slowly enough to +watch it as it grows. I always fancy that these meditations have +drifted far astern of the times, but are following after, in +patient hopelessness, as a dog swims behind a boat. What knows he +of the President's Message? He has just overtaken some remarkable +catch of mackerel in the year thirty-eight. His hands lie buried +fathom-deep in his pockets, as if part of his brain lay there to +be rummaged; and he sucks at his old pipe as if his head, like +other venerable hulks, must be smoked out at intervals. His walk +is that of a sloth, one foot dragging heavily behind the other. I +meet him as I go to the post-office, and on returning, twenty +minutes later, I pass him again, a little farther advanced. All +the children accost him, and I have seen him stop--no great +retardation indeed--to fondle in his arms a puppy or a kitten. +Yet he is liable to excitement, in his way; for once, in some +high debate, wherein he assisted as listener, when one old man on +a wharf was doubting the assertion of another old man about a +certain equinoctial gale, I saw my friend draw his right hand +slowly and painfully from his pocket, and let it fall by his +side. It was really one of the most emphatic gesticulations I +ever saw, and tended obviously to quell the rising discord. It +was as if the herald at a tournament had dropped his truncheon, +and the fray must end. + +Women's faces are apt to take from old age a finer touch than +those of men, and poverty does not interfere with this, where +there is no actual exposure to the elements. From the windows of +these old houses there often look forth delicate, faded +countenances, to which belongs an air of unmistakable refinement. +Nowhere in America, I fancy, does one see such counterparts of +the reduced gentlewoman of England,--as described, for instance, +in "Cranford,"-- quiet maiden ladies of seventy, with perhaps a +tradition of beauty and bellehood, and still wearing always a bit +of blue ribbon on their once golden curls,--this headdress being +still carefully arranged, each day, by some handmaiden of sixty, +so long a house-mate as to seem a sister, though some faint +suggestion of wages and subordination may be still preserved. +Among these ladies, as in "Cranford," there is a dignified +reticence in respect to money-matters, and a courteous blindness +to the small economies practised by each other. It is not held +good breeding, when they meet in a shop of a morning, for one to +seem to notice what another buys. + +These ancient ladies have coats of arms upon their walls, +hereditary damasks among their scanty wardrobes, store of +domestic traditions in their brains, and a whole Court Guide of +high-sounding names at their fingers' ends. They can tell you of +the supposed sister of an English queen, who married an American +officer and dwelt in Oldport; of the Scotch Lady Janet, who +eloped with her tutor, and here lived in poverty, paying her +washerwoman with costly lace from her trunks; of the Oldport dame +who escaped from France at the opening of the Revolution, was +captured by pirates on her voyage to America, then retaken by a +privateer and carried into Boston, where she took refuge in John +Hancock's house. They can describe to you the Malbone Gardens, +and, as the night wanes and the embers fade, can give the tale of +the Phantom of Rough Point. Gliding farther and farther into the +past, they revert to the brilliant historic period of Oldport, +the successive English and French occupations during our +Revolution,and show you gallant inscriptions in honor of their +grandmothers, written on the window-panes by the diamond rings of +the foreign officers. + +The newer strata of Oldport society are formed chiefly by +importation, and have the one advantage of a variety of origin +which puts provincialism out of the question. The mild winter +climate and the supposed cheapness of living draw scattered +families from the various Atlantic cities; and, coming from such +different sources, these visitors leave some exclusiveness +behind. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, are doubtless +good things to have in one's house, but are cumbrous to travel +with. Meeting here on central ground, partial aristocracies tend +to neutralize each other. A Boston family comes, bristling with +genealogies, and making the most of its little all of two +centuries. Another arrives from Philadelphia, equally fortified +in local heraldries unknown in Boston. + +A third from New York brings a briefer pedigree, but more gilded. +Their claims are incompatible; but there is no common standard, +and so neither can have precedence. Since no human memory can +retain the great-grandmothers of three cities, we are practically +as well off as if we had no great-grandmothers at all. + +But in Oldport, as elsewhere, the spice of conversation is apt to +be in inverse ratio to family tree and income-tax, and one can +hear better repartees among the boat-builders' shops on Long +Wharf than among those who have made the grand tour. All the +world over, one is occasionally reminded of the French officer's +verdict on the garrison town where he was quartered, that the +good society was no better than the good society anywhere else, +but the bad society was capital. I like, for instance, to watch +the shoals of fishermen that throng our streets in the early +spring, inappropriate as porpoises on land, or as Scott's pirates +in peaceful Kirkwall,--unwieldy, bearded creatures in oil-skin +suits,--men who have never before seen a basket-wagon or a +liveried groom and, whose first comments on the daintinesses of +fashion are far more racy than anything which fashion can say for +itself. + +The life of our own fishermen and pilots remains active, in its +way, all winter; and coasting vessels come and go in the open +harbor every day. The only schooner that is not so employed is, +to my eye, more attractive than any of them; it is our sole +winter guest, this year, of all the graceful flotilla of yachts +that helped to make our summer moonlights so charming. While +Europe seems in such ecstasy over the ocean yacht-race, there +lies at anchor, stripped and dismantled, a vessel which was +excluded from the match, it is said, simply because neither of +the three competitors would have had a chance against her. I like +to look across the harbor at the graceful proportions of this +uncrowned victor in the race she never ran; and to my eye her +laurels are the most attractive. She seems a fit emblem of the +genius that waits, while talent merely wins. "Let me know," said +that fine, but unappreciated thinker, Brownlee Brown,--"let me +know what chances a man has passed in contempt; not what he has +made, but what he has refused to make, reserving himself for +higher ends." + +All out-door work in winter has a cheerful look, from the triumph +of caloric it implies; but I know none in which man seems to +revert more to the lower modes of being than in searching for +seaclams. One may sometimes observe a dozen men employed in this +way, on one of our beaches, while the cold wind blows keenly off +shore, and the spray drifts back like snow over the green and +sluggish surge. The men pace in and out with the wave, going +steadily to and fro like a pendulum, ankle-deep in the chilly +brine, their steps quickened by hope or slackening with despair. +Where the maidens and children sport and shout in summer, there +in winter these heavy figures succeed. To them the lovely crest +of the emerald billow is but a chariot for clams, and is +valueless if it comes in empty. Really, the position of the clam +is the more dignified, since he moves only with the wave, and the +immortal being in fish-boots wades for him. + +The harbor and the beach are thus occupied in winter; but one may +walk for many a mile along the cliffs, and see nothing human but +a few gardeners, spreading green and white sea-weed as manure +upon the lawns. The mercury rarely drops to zero here, and there +is little snow; but a new-fallen drift has just the same virgin +beauty as farther inland, and when one suddenly comes in view of +the sea beyond it, there is a sensation of summer softness. The +water is not then deep blue, but pale, with opaline reflections. +Vessels in the far horizon have the same delicate tint, as if +woven of the same liquid material. A single wave lifts itself +languidly above a reef,--a white-breasted loon floats near the +shore,--the sea breaks in long, indolent curves,--the distant +islands swim in a vague mirage. Along the cliffs hang great +organ-pipes of ice, distilling showers of drops that glitter in +the noonday sun, while the barer rocks send up a perpetual steam, +giving to the eye a sense of warmth, and suggesting the comforts +of fire. Beneath, the low tide reveals long stretches of +golden-brown sea-weed, caressed by the lapping wave. + +High winds bring a different scene. Sometimes I fancy that in +winter, with less visible life upon the surface of the water, and +less of unseen animal life below it, there is yet more that seems +like vital force in the individual particles of waves. Each +separate drop appears more charged with desperate and determined +life. The lines of surf run into each other more brokenly, and +with less steady roll. The low sun, too, lends a weird and jagged +shadow to gallop in before the crest of each advancing wave, and +sometimes there is a second crest on the shoulders of the first, +as if there were more than could be contained in a single curve. +Greens and purples are called forth to replace the prevailing +blue. Far out at sea, great separate mounds of water rear +themselves, as if to overlook the tossing plain. Sometimes these +move onward and subside with their green hue still unbroken, and +again they curve into detached hillocks of foam, white, +multitudinous, side by side, not ridged, but moving on like a mob +of white horses, neck overarching neck, breast crowded against +breast. + +Across those tumultuous waves I like to watch, after sunset, the +revolving light; there is something about it so delicate and +human. It seems to bud or bubble out of the low, dark horizon; a +moment, and it is not, and then another moment, and it is. With +one throb the tremulous light is born; with another throb it has +reached its full size, and looks at you, coy and defiant; and +almost in that instant it is utterly gone. You cannot conceive +yourself to be watching something which merely turns on an axis; +but it seems suddenly to expand, a flower of light, or to close, +as if soft petals of darkness clasped it in. During its moments +of absence, the eye cannot quite keep the memory of its precise +position, and it often appears a hair-breadth to the right or +left of the expected spot. This enhances the elfish and fantastic +look, and so the pretty game goes on, with flickering surprises, +every night and all night long. But the illusion of the seasons +is just as oquettish; and when next summer comes to us, with its +blossoms and its joys, it will dawn as softly out of the darkness +and as softly give place to winter once more. + + + +OLDPORT WHARVES. + +Everyone who comes to a wharf feels an impulse to follow it down, +and look from the end. There is a fascination about it. It is the +point of contact between land and sea. A bridge evades the water, +and unites land with land, as if there were no obstacle. But a +wharf seeks the water, and grasps it with a solid hand. It is the +sign of a lasting friendship; once extended, there it remains; +the water embraces it, takes it into its tumultuous bosom at high +tide, leaves it in peace at ebb, rushes back to it eagerly again, +plays with it in sunshine, surges round it in storm, almost +crushing the massive thing. But the pledge once given is never +withdrawn. Buildings may rise and fall, but a solid wharf is +almost indestructible. Even if it seems destroyed, its materials +are all there. This shore might be swept away, these piers be +submerged or dashed asunder, still every brick and stone would +remain. Half the wharves of Oldport were ruined in the great +storm of 1815. Yet not one of them has stirred from the place +where it lay; its foundations have only spread more widely and +firmly; they are a part of the very pavement of the harbor, +submarine mountain ranges, on one of which yonder schooner now +lies aground. Thus the wild ocean only punished itself, and has +been embarrassed for half a century, like many another mad +profligate, by the wrecks of what it ruined. + +Yet the surges are wont to deal very tenderly with these wharves. +In summer the sea decks them with floating weeds, and studs them +with an armor of shells. In the winter it surrounds them with a +smoother mail of ice, and the detached piles stand white and +gleaming, like the out-door palace of a Russian queen. How softly +and eagerly this coming tide swirls round them! All day the +fishes haunt their shadows; all night the phosphorescent water +glimmers by them, and washes with long, refluent waves along +their sides, decking their blackness with a spray of stars. + +Water seems the natural outlet and discharge for every landscape, +and when we have followed down this artificial promontory, a +wharf, and have seen the waves on three sides of us, we have +taken the first step toward circumnavigating the globe. This is +our last terra firma. One step farther, and there is no possible +foothold but a deck, which tilts and totters beneath our feet. A +wharf, therefore, is properly neutral ground for all. It is a +silent hospitality, understood by all nations. It is in some sort +a thing of universal ownership. Having once built it, you must +grant its use to everyone; it is no trespass to land upon any +man's wharf. + +The sea, like other beautiful savage creatures, derives most of +its charm from its reserves of untamed power. When a wild animal +is subdued to abjectness, all its interest is gone. The ocean is +never thus humiliated. So slight an advance of its waves would +overwhelm us, if only the restraining power once should fail, and +the water keep on rising! Even here, in these safe haunts of +commerce, we deal with the same salt tide which I myself have +seen ascend above these piers, and which within half a century +drowned a whole family in their home upon our Long Wharf. + +It is still the same ungoverned ocean which, twice in every +twenty-four hours, reasserts its right of way, and stops only +where it will. At Monckton, on the Bay of Fundy, the wharves are +built forty feet high, and at ebb-tide you may look down on the +schooners lying aground upon the mud below. In six hours they +will be floating at your side. But the motions of the tide are as +resistless whether its rise be six feet or forty; as in the lazy +stretching of the caged lion's paw you can see all the terrors of +his spring. + +Our principal wharf, the oldest in the town, has lately been +doubled in size, and quite transformed in shape, by an +importation of broad acres from the country. It is now what is +called "made land,"--a manufacture which has grown so easy that I +daily expect to see some enterprising contractor set up endwise a +bar of railroad iron, and construct a new planet at its summit, +which shall presently go spinning off into space and be called an +asteroid. There are some people whom would it be pleasant to +colonize in that way; but meanwhile the unchanged southern side +of the pier seems pleasanter, with its boat-builders' shops, all +facing sunward,--a cheerful haunt upon a winter's day. On the +early maps this wharf appears as "Queen-Hithe," a name more +graceful than its present cognomen. "Hithe" or "Hythe" signifies +a small harbor, and is the final syllable of many English names, +as of Lambeth. Hythe is also one of those Cinque-Ports of which +the Duke of Wellington was warden. This wharf was probably still +familiarly called Queen-Hithe in 1781, when Washington and +Rochambeau walked its length bareheaded between the ranks of +French soldiers; and it doubtless bore that name when Dean +Berkeley arrived in 1729, and the Rev. Mr. Honyman and all his +flock closed hastily their prayer-books, and hastened to the +landing to receive their guest. But it had lost this name ere the +days, yet remembered by aged men, when the Long Wharf became a +market. Beeves were then driven thither and tethered, while each +hungry applicant marked with a piece of chalk upon the creature's +side the desired cut; when a sufficient portion had been thus +secured, the sentence of death was issued. Fancy the chalk a live +coal, or the beast endowed with human consciousness, and no +Indian, or Inquisitorial tortures could have been more fearful. + +It is like visiting the houses at Pompeii, to enter the strange +little black warehouses which cover some of our smaller wharves. +They are so old and so small it seems as if some race of pygmies +must have built them. Though they are two or three stories high, +with steep gambrel-roofs, and heavily timbered, their rooms are +yet so low that a man six feet high can hardly stand upright +beneath the great cross-beams. There is a row of these +structures, for instance, described on a map of 1762 as "the old +buildings on Lopez' Wharf," and to these another century has +probably brought very little change. Lopez was a Portuguese Jew, +who came to this place, with several hundred others, after the +Lisbon earthquake of 1755. He is said to have owned eighty +square-rigged vessels in this port, from which not one such craft +now sails. His little counting-room is in the second storey of +the building; its wall-timbers are of oak, and are still sound; +the few remaining planks are grained to resemble rosewood and +mahogany; the fragments of wall-paper are of English make. In the +cross-beam, just above your head, are the pigeon-holesonce +devoted to different vessels, whose names are still recorded +above them on faded paper,--"Ship Cleopatra," "Brig Juno," and +the like. Many of these vessels measured less than two hundred +tons, and it seems as if their owner had built his ships to match +the size of his counting-room. + +A sterner tradition clings around an old building on a remoter +wharf; for men have but lately died who had seen slaves pass +within its doors for confinement. The wharf in those days +appertained to a distillery, an establishment then constantly +connected with the slave-trade, rum being sent to Africa, and +human beings brought back. Occasionally a cargo was landed here, +instead of being sent to the West Indies or to South Carolina, +and this building was fitted up for their temporary quarters. It +is but some twenty-five feet square, and must be less than thirty +feet in height, yet it is divided into three stories, of which +the lowest was used for other purposes, and the two upper were +reserved for slaves. There are still to be seen the barred +partitions and latticed door, making half the second floor into a +sort of cage, while the agent's room appears to have occupied the +other half. A similar latticed door--just such as I have seen in +Southern slave-pens--secures the foot of the upper stairway. The +whole small attic constitutes a single room, with a couple of +windows, and two additional breathing-holes, two feet square, +opening on the yard. It makes one sick to think of the poor +creatures who may once have gripped those bars with their hands, +or have glared with eager eyes between them; and it makes me +recall with delight the day when I once wrenched away the stocks +and chains from the floor of a pen like this, on the St. Mary's +River in Florida. It is almost forty years since this distillery +became a mill, and sixty since the slave-trade was abolished. The +date "1803" is scrawled upon the door of the cage,--the very year +when the port of Charleston was reopened for slaves, just before +the traffic ceased. A few years more, and such horrors will seem +as remote a memory in South Carolina, thank God! as in Rhode +Island. + +Other wharves are occupied by mast-yards, places that seem like +play-rooms for grown men, crammed fuller than any old garret with +those odds and ends in which the youthful soul delights. There +are planks and spars and timber, broken rudders, rusty anchors, +coils of rope, bales of sail-cloth, heaps of blocks, piles of +chain-cable, great iron tar-kettles like antique helmets, strange +machines for steaming planks, inexplicable little chimneys, +engines that seem like dwarf-locomotives, windlasses that +apparently turn nothing, and incipient canals that lead nowhere. +For in these yards there seems no particular difference between +land and water; the tide comes and goes anywhere, and nobody +minds it; boats are drawn up among burdocks and ambrosia, and the +platform on which you stand suddenly proves to be something +afloat. Vessels are hauled upon the ways, each side of the wharf, +their poor ribs pitiably unclothed, ready for a cumbrous +mantua-making of oak and iron. On one side, within a floating +boom, lies a fleet of masts and unhewn logs, tethered uneasily, +like a herd of captive sea-monsters, rocking in the ripples. A +vast shed, that has doubtless looked ready to fall for these +dozen years spreads over, half the entrance to the wharf, and is +filled with spars, knee-timber, and planks of fragrant wood; its +uprights are festooned with all manner of great hawsers and +smaller ropes, and its dim loft is piled with empty casks and +idle sails. The sun always seems to shine in a ship-yard; there +are apt to be more loungers than laborers, and this gives a +pleasant air of repose; the neighboring water softens all harsher +sounds, the foot treads upon an elastic carpet of embedded chips, +and pleasant resinous odors are in the air. + +Then there are wharves quite abandoned by commerce, and given +over to small tenements, filled with families so abundant that +they might dispel the fears of those alarmists who suspect that +children are ceasing to be born. Shrill voices resound +there--American or Irish, as the case may be--through the summer +noontides; and the domestic clothes-line forever stretches across +the paths where imported slaves once trod, or rich merchandise +lay piled. Some of these abodes are nestled in the corners of +houses once stately, with large windows and carven doorways. +Others occupy separate buildings, almost always of black, +unpainted wood, sometimes with the long, sloping roof of +Massachusetts, oftener with the quaint "gambrel" of Rhode Island. +From the busiest point of our main street, I can show you a +single cottage, with low gables, projecting eaves, and sheltering +sweetbrier, that seems as if it must have strayed hither, a +century or two ago, out of some English lane. + +Some of the more secluded wharves appear wholly deserted by men +and women, and are tenanted alone by rats and boys,--two +amphibious races; either can swim anywhere, or scramble and +penetrate everywhere. The boys launch some abandoned skiff, and, +with an oar for a sail and another for a rudder, pass from wharf +to wharf; nor would it be surprising if the bright-eyed rats were +to take similar passage on a shingle. Yet,after all, the human +juveniles are the more sagacious brood. It is strange that people +should go to Europe, and seek the society of potentates less +imposing, when home can endow them with the occasional privilege +of a nod from an American boy. In these sequestered haunts, I +frequently meet some urchin three feet high who carries with him +an air of consummate worldly experience that completely +overpowers me, and I seem to shrink to the dimensions of Tom +Thumb. Before his calm and terrible glance all disguises fail. +You may put on a bold and careless air, and affect to overlook +him as you pass; but it is like assuming to ignore the existence +of the Pope of Rome, or of the London Times. He knows better. +Grown men are never very formidable; they are shy and shamefaced +themselves, usually preoccupied, and not very observing. If they +see a man loitering about, without visible aim, they class him as +a mild imbecile, and let him go; but boys are nature's +detectives, and one does not so easily evade their scrutinizing +eyes. I know full well that, while I study their ways, they are +noting mine through a clearer lens, and are probably taking my +measure far better than I take theirs. One instinctively shrinks +from making a sketch or memorandum while they are by; and if +caught in the act, one fondly hopes to pass for some harmless +speculator in real estate, whose pencillings may be only a matter +of habit, like those casual sums in compound interest which are +usually to be found scrawled on the margins of the daily papers +in Boston reading-rooms. + +Our wharves are almost all connected by intricate by-ways among +the buildings; and one almost wishes to be a pirate or a +smuggler, for the pleasure of eluding the officers of justice +through such seductive paths. It is, perhaps, to counteract this +perilous fascination that our new police-office has been +established on a wharf. You will see its brick tower rising not +ungracefully, as you enter the inner harbor; it looks the better +for being almost windowless, though beauty was not the aim of the +omission. A curious stranger is said to have asked one of our +city fathers the reason of this peculiarity. "No use in windows," +said the experienced official sadly; "the boys would only break +'em." It seems very unjust to assert that there is no +subordination in our American society; the citizens show +deference to the police, and the police to the boys. + +The ancient aspect of these wharves extends itself sometimes to +the vessels which lie moored beside them. At yonder pier, for +instance, has lain for thirteen years a decaying bark, which was +suspected of being engaged in the slave-trade. She was run ashore +and abandoned on Block Island, in the winter of 1854, and was +afterwards brought in here. Her purchaser was offered eight +thousand dollars for his bargain, but refused it; and here the +vessel has remained, paying annual wharf dues and charges, till +she is worthless. She lies chained at the wharf, and the tide +rises and falls within her, thus furnishing a convenient +bathing-house for the children, who also find a perpetual +gymnasium in the broken shrouds that dangle from her masts. +Turner, when he painted his "slave-ship," could have asked no +better model. There is no name upon the stern, and it exhibits +merely a carved eagle, with the wings clipped and the head +knocked off. Only the lower masts remain, which are of a dismal +black, as are the tops and mizzen cross-trees. Within the +bulwarks, on each side, stand rows of black blocks, to which the +shrouds were once attached; these blocks are called by sailors +"dead-eyes," and each stands in weird mockery, with its three +ominous holes, like so many human skulls before some palace in +Dahomey. Other blocks like these swing more ominously yet at the +ends of the shrouds, that still hang suspended, waving and +creaking and jostling in the wind. Each year the ropes decay, and +soon the repulsive pendants will be gone. Not so with the iron +belaying-pins, a few of which still stand around the mast, so +rusted into the iron fife-rail that even the persevering industry +of the children cannot wrench them out. It seems as if some +guilty stain must cling to their sides, and hold them in. By one +of those fitnesses which fortune often adjusts, but which seem +incredible in art, the wharf is now used on one side for the +storage of slate, and the hulk is approached through an avenue of +gravestones. I never find myself in that neighborhood but my +steps instinctively seek that condemned vessel, whether by day, +when she makes a dark foreground for the white yachts and the +summer waves, or by night, when the storm breaks over her +desolate deck. + +If we follow northward from "Queen-Hithe" along the shore, we +pass into a region where the ancient wharves of commerce, ruined +in 1815, have never been rebuilt; and only slender pathways for +pleasure voyagers now stretch above the submerged foundations. +Once the court end of the town, then its commercial centre, it is +now divided between the tenements of fishermen and the summer +homes of city households. Still the great old houses remain, with +mahogany stairways, carved wainscoting, and painted tiles; the +sea has encroached upon their gardens, and only boats like mine +approach where English dukes and French courtiers once landed. At +the head of yonder private wharf, in that spacious and still +cheerful abode, dwelt the beautiful Robinson sisterhood,--the +three Quaker belles of Revolutionary days, the memory of whose +loves might lend romance to this neighborhood forever. One of +these maidens was asked in marriage by a captain in the English +army, and was banished by her family to the Narragansett shore, +under a flag of truce, to avoid him; her lover was afterward +killed by a cannon-ball, in his tent, and she died unwedded. +Another was sought by two aspirants, who came in the same ship to +woo her, the one from Philadelphia, the other from New York. She +refused them both, and they sailed southward together; but, the +wind proving adverse, they returned, and one lingered till he won +her hand. Still another lover was forced into a vessel by his +friends, to tear him from the enchanted neighborhood; while +sailing past the house, he suddenly threw himself into the +water,--it must have been about where the end of the wharf now +rests,--that he might be rescued, and carried, a passive Leander, +into yonder door. The house was first the head-quarters of the +English commander, then of the French; and the sentinels of De +Noailles once trod where now croquet-balls form the heaviest +ordnance. Peaceful and untitled guests now throng in summer where +St. Vincents and Northumberlands once rustled and glittered; and +there is nothing to recall those brilliant days except the +painted tiles on the chimney, where there is a choice society of +coquettes and beaux, priests and conjurers, beggars and dancers, +and every wig and hoop dates back to the days of Queen Anne. + +Sometimes when I stand upon this pier by night, and look across +the calm black water, so still, perhaps, that the starry +reflections seem to drop through it in prolonged javelins of +light instead of resting on the surface, and the opposite +lighthouse spreads its cloth of gold across the bay,--I can +imagine that I discern the French and English vessels just +weighing anchor; I see De Lauzun and De Noailles embarking, and +catch the last sheen upon their lace, the last glitter of their +swords. It vanishes, and I see only the lighthouse gleam, and the +dark masts of a sunken ship across the neighboring island. Those +motionless spars have, after all, a nearer interest, and, as I +saw them sink, I will tell their tale. + +That vessel came in here one day last August, a stately, +full-sailed bark; nor was it known, till she had anchored, that +she was a mass of imprisoned fire below. She was the "Trajan," +from Rockland, bound to New Orleans with a cargo of lime, which +took fire in a gale of wind, being wet with sea-water as the +vessel rolled. The captain and crew retreated to the deck, and +made the hatches fast, leaving even their clothing and provisions +below. They remained on deck, after reaching this harbor, till +the planks grew too hot beneath their feet, and the water came +boiling from the pumps. Then the vessel was towed into a depth of +five fathoms, to be scuttled and sunk. I watched her go down. +Early impressions from "Peter Parley" had portrayed the sinking +of a vessel as a frightful plunge, endangering all around, like a +maelstrom. The actual process was merely a subsidence so calm and +gentle that a child might have stood upon the deck till it sank +beneath him, and then might have floated away. Instead of a +convulsion, it was something stately and very pathetic to the +imagination. The bark remained almost level, the bows a little +higher than the stern; and her breath appeared to be surrendered +in a series of pulsations, as if every gasp of the lungs admitted +more of the suffocating wave. After each long heave, she went +visibly a few inches deeper, and then paused. The face of the +benign Emperor, her namesake, was on the stern; first sank the +carven beard, then the rather mutilated nose, then the white and +staring eyes, that gazed blankly over the engulfing waves. The +figure-head was Trajan again, at full length, with the costume of +an Indian hunter, and the face of a Roman sage; this image +lingered longer, and then vanished, like Victor Hugo's Gilliatt, +by cruel gradations. Meanwhile the gilded name upon the taffrail +had slowly disappeared also; but even when the ripples began to +meet across her deck, still her descent was calm. As the water +gained, the hidden fire was extinguished, and the smoke, at first +densely rising, grew rapidly less. Yet when it had stopped +altogether, and all but the top of the cabin had disappeared, +there came a new ebullition of steam, like a hot spring, throwing +itself several feet in air, and then ceasing. + +As the vessel went down, several beams and planks came springing +endwise up the hatchway, like liberated men. But nothing had a +stranger look to me than some great black casks which had been +left on deck. These, as the water floated them, seemed to stir +and wake, and to become gifted with life, and then got into +motion and wallowed heavily about, like hippopotami or any +unwieldy and bewildered beasts. At last the most enterprising of +them slid somehow to the bulwark, and, after several clumsy +efforts, shouldered itself over; then others bounced out, eagerly +following, as sheep leap a wall, and then they all went bobbing +away, over the dancing waves. For the wind blew fresh meanwhile, +and there were some twenty sail-boats lying-to with reefed sails +by the wreck, like so many sea-birds; and when the loose stuff +began to be washed from the deck, they all took wing at once, to +save whatever could be picked up,--since at such times, as at a +conflagration on land, every little thing seems to assume a +value,--and at last one young fellow steered boldly up to the +sinking ship itself, sprang upon the vanishing taffrail for one +instant, as if resolved to be the last on board, and then pushed +off again. I never saw anything seem so extinguished out of the +universe as that great vessel, which had towered so colossal +above my little boat; it was impossible to imagine that she was +all there yet, beneath the foaming and indifferent waves. No +effort has yet been made to raise her; and a dead eagle seems to +have more in common with the living bird than has now this +submerged and decaying hulk with the white and winged creature +that came sailing into our harbor on that summer day. + +It shows what conversational resources are always at hand in a +seaport town, that the boatman with whom I first happened to +visit this burning vessel had been thrice at sea on ships +similarly destroyed, and could give all the particulars of their +fate. I know no class of uneducated men whose talk is so apt to +be worth hearing as that of sailors. Even apart from their +personal adventures and their glimpses at foreign lands, they +have made observations of nature which are far more careful and +minute than those of farmers, because the very lives of sailors +are always at risk. Their voyages have also made them sociable +and fond of talk, while the pursuits of most men tend to make +them silent; and their constant changes of scene, though not +touching them very deeply, have really given a certain +enlargement to their minds. A quiet demeanor in a seaport town +proves nothing; the most inconspicuous man may have the most +thrilling career to look back upon. With what a superb +familiarity do these men treat this habitable globe! Cape Horn +and the Cape of Good Hope are in their phrase but the West Cape +and the East Cape, merely two familiar portals of their wonted +home. With what undisguised contempt they speak of the enthusiasm +displayed over the ocean yacht-race! That any man should boast of +crossing the Atlantic in a schooner of two hundred tons, in +presence of those who have more than once reached the Indian +Ocean in a fishing-smack of fifty, and have beaten in the +homeward race the ships in whose company they sailed! It is not +many years since there was here a fishing-skipper, whose surname +was "Daredevil," and who sailed from this port to all parts of +the world, on sealing voyages, in a sloop so small that she was +popularly said to go under water when she got outside the lights, +and never to reappear until she reached her port. + +And not only those who sail on long voyages, but even our local +pilots and fishermen, still lead an adventurous and untamed life, +less softened than any other by the appliances of modern days. In +their undecked boats they hover day and night along these stormy +coasts, and at any hour the beating of the long-roll upon the +beach may call their full manhood into action. Cowardice is +sifted and crushed out from among them by a pressure so constant; +and they are withal truthful and steady in their ways, with few +vices and many virtues. They are born poor, and remain poor, for +their work is hard, with more blanks than prizes; but their life +is a life for a man, and though it makes them prematurely old, +yet their old age comes peacefully and well. In almost all +pursuits the advance of years brings something forlorn. It is not +merely that the body decays, but that men grow isolated and are +pushed aside; there is no common interest between age and youth. +The old farmer leads a lonely existence, and ceases to meet his +compeers except on Sunday; nobody consults him; his experience +has been monotonous, and his age is apt to grow unsocial. The old +mechanic finds his tools and his methods superseded by those of +younger men. But the superannuated fisherman graduates into an +oracle; the longer he lives, the greater the dignity of his +experience; he remembers the great storm, the great tide, the +great catch, the great shipwreck; and on all emergencies his +counsel has weight. He still busies himself about the boats too, +and still sails on sunny days to show the youngsters the best +fishing-ground. When too infirm for even this, he can at least +sun himself beside the landing, and, dreaming over inexhaustible +memories, watch the bark of his own life go down. + + + +THE HAUNTED WINDOW. + +It was always a mystery to me where Severance got precisely his +combination of qualities. His father was simply what is called a +handsome man, with stately figure and curly black hair, not +without a certain dignity of manner, but with a face so shallow +that it did not even seem to ripple, and with a voice so prosy +that, when he spoke of the sky, you wished there were no such +thing. His mother was a fair, little, pallid +creature,--wash-blond, as they say of lace,--patient, meek, and +always fatigued and fatiguing. But Severance, as I first knew +him, was the soul of activity. He had dark eyes, that had a great +deal of light in them, without corresponding depth; his hair was +dark, straight, and very soft; his mouth expressed sweetness, +without much strength; he talked well; and though he was apt to +have a wandering look, as if his thoughts were laying a submarine +cable to another continent, yet the young girls were always glad +to have the semblance of conversation with him in this. To me he +was in the last degree lovable. He had just enough of that +subtile quality called genius, perhaps, to spoil first his +companions, and then himself. His words had weight with you, +though you might know yourself wiser; and if you went to give him +the most reasonable advice, you were suddenly seized with a +slight paralysis of the tongue. Thus it was, at any rate, with +me. We were cemented therefore by the firmest ties,--a nominal +seniority on my part, and a substantial supremacy on his. + +We lodged one summer at an old house in that odd suburb of +Oldport called "The Point." It is a sort of Artists' Quarter of +the town, frequented by a class of summer visitors more addicted +to sailing and sketching than to driving and bowing,--persons who +do not object to simple fare, and can live, as one of them said, +on potatoes and Point. Here Severance and I made our summer home, +basking in the delicious sunshine of the lovely bay. The bare +outlines around Oldport sometimes dismay the stranger, but soon +fascinate. Nowhere does one feel bareness so little, because +there is no sharpness of perspective; everything shimmers in the +moist atmosphere; the islands are all glamour and mirage; and the +undulating hills of the horizon seem each like the soft, arched +back of some pet animal, and you long to caress them with your +hand. At last your thoughts begin to swim also, and pass into +vague fancies, which you also love to caress. Severance and I +were constantly afloat, body and mind. He was a perfect sailor, +and had that dreaminess in his nature which matches with nothing +but the ripple of the waves. Still, I could not hide from myself +that he was a changed man since that voyage in search of health +from which he had just returned. His mother talked in her humdrum +way about heart disease; and his father, taking up the strain, +bored us about organic lesions, till we almost wished he had a +lesion himself. Severance ridiculed all this; but he grew more +and more moody, and his eyes seemed to be laying more submarine +cables than ever. + +When we were not on the water, we both liked to mouse about the +queer streets and quaint old houses of that region, and to chat +with the fishermen and their grandmothers. There was one house, +however, which was very attractive to me,--perhaps because nobody +lived in it, and which, for that or some other reason, he never +would approach. It was a great square building of rough gray +stone, looking like those sombre houses which everyone remembers +in Montreal, but which are rare in "the States." It had been +built many years before by some millionnaire from New Orleans, +and was left unfinished, nobody knew why, till the garden was a +wilderness of bloom, and the windows of ivy. Oldport is the only +place in New England where either ivy or traditions will grow; +there were, to be sure, no legends about this house that I could +hear of, for the ghosts in those parts were feeble-minded and +retrospective by reason of age, and perhaps scorned a mansion +where nobody had ever lived; but the ivy clustered round the +projecting windows as densely as if it had the sins of a dozen +generations to hide. + +The house stood just above what were commonly called (from their +slaty color) the Blue Rocks; it seemed the topmost pebble left by +some tide that had receded,--which perhaps it was. Nurses and +children thronged daily to these rocks, during the visitors' +season, and the fishermen found there a favorite lounging-place; +but nobody scaled the wall of the house save myself, and I went +there very often. The gate was sometimes opened by Paul, the +silent Bavarian gardener, who was master of the keys; and there +were also certain great cats that were always sunning themselves +on the steps, and seemed to have grown old and gray in waiting +for mice that had never come. They looked as if they knew the +past and the future. If the owl is the bird of Minerva, the cat +should be her beast; they have the same sleepy air of +unfathomable wisdom. There was such a quiet and potent spell +about the place that one could almost fancy these constant +animals to be the transformed bodies of human visitors who had +stayed too long. Who knew what tales might be told by these tall, +slender birches, clustering so closely by the sombre +walls?--birches which were but whispering shrubs when the first +gray stones were laid, and which now reared above the eaves their +white stems and dark boughs, still whispering and waiting till a +few more years should show them, across the roof, the topmost +blossoms of other birches on the other side. + +Before the great western doorway spread the outer harbor, whither +the coasting vessels came to drop anchor at any approach of +storm. These silent visitors, which arrived at dusk and went at +dawn, and from which no boat landed, seemed fitting guests before +the portals of the silent house. I was never tired of watching +them from the piazza; but Severance always stayed outside the +wall. It was a whim of his, he said; and once only I got out of +him something about the resemblance of the house to some +Portuguese mansion,--at Madeira, perhaps, or at Rio Janeiro, but +he did not say,--with which he had no pleasant associations. Yet +he afterwards seemed to wish to deny this remark, or to confuse +my impressions of it, which naturally fixed it the better in my +mind. + +I remember well the morning when he was at last coaxed into +approaching the house. It was late in September, and a day of +perfect calm. As we looked from the broad piazza, there was a +glassy smoothness over all the bay, and the hills were coated +with a film, or rather a mere varnish, inconceivably thin, of +haze more delicate than any other climate in America can show. +Over the water there were white gulls flying, lazy and low; +schools of young mackerel displayed their white sides above the +surface; and it seemed as if even a butterfly might be seen for +miles over that calm expanse. The bay was covered with +mackerel-boats, and one man sculled indolently across the +foreground a scarlet skiff. It was so still that every white +sail-boat rested where its sail was first spread; and though the +tide was at half-ebb, the anchored boats swung idly different +ways from their moorings. Yet there was a continuous ripple in +the broad sail of some almost motionless schooner, and there was +a constant melodious plash along the shore. From the mouth of the +bay came up slowly the premonitory line of bluer water, and we +knew that a breeze was near. + +Severance seemed to rise in spirits as we approached the house, +and I noticed no sign of shrinking, except an occasional lowering +of the voice. Seeing this, I ventured to joke him a little on his +previous reluctance, and he replied in the same strain. I seated +myself at the corner, and began sketching old Fort Louis, while +he strolled along the piazza, looking in at the large, vacant +windows. As he approached the farther end, I suddenly heard him +give a little cry of amazement or dismay, and, looking up, saw +him leaning against the wall, with pale face and hands clenched. + +A minute sometimes appears a long while; and though I sprang to +him instantly, yet I remember that it seemed as if, during that +instant, the whole face of things had changed. The breeze had +come, the bay was rippled, the sail-boats careened to the wind, +fishes and birds were gone, and a dark gray cloud had come +between us and the sun. Such sudden changes are not, however, +uncommon after an interval of calm; and my only conscious thought +at the time was of wonder at the strange aspect of my companion. + +"What was that?" asked Severance in a bewildered tone. I looked +about me, equally puzzled. "Not there," he said. "In the window." + +I looked in at the window, saw nothing, and said so. There was +the great empty drawing-room, across which one could see the +opposite window, and through this the eastern piazza and the +garden beyond. Nothing more was there. With some persuasion, +Severance was induced to look in. He admitted that he saw nothing +peculiar; but he refused all explanation, and we went home. + +"Never let me go to that house again," he said abruptly, as we +entered our own door. + +I pointed out to him the absurdity of thus yielding to a nervous +delusion, which was already in part conquered, and he finally +promised to revisit the scene with me the next day. To clear all +possible misgivings from my own mind, I got the key of the house +from Paul, explored it thoroughly, and was satisfied that no +improper visitor had recently entered the drawing-room at least, +as the windows were strongly bolted on the inside, and a large +cobweb, heavy with dust, hung across the doorway. This did no +great credit to Paul's stewardship, but was, perhaps, a slight +relief to me. Nor could I see a trace of anything uncanny outside +the house. When Severance went with me, next day, the coast was +equally clear, and I was glad to have cured him so easily. + +Unfortunately, it did not last. A few days after, there was a +brilliant sunset, after a storm, with gorgeous yellow light +slanting everywhere, and the sun looking at us between bars of +dark purple cloud, edged with gold where they touched the pale +blue sky; all this fading at last into a great whirl of gray to +the northward, with a cold purple ground. At the height of the +show, I climbed the wall to my favorite piazza, and was surprised +to find Severance already there. + +He sat facing the sunset, but with his head sunk between his +hands. At my approach, he looked up, and rose to his feet. "Do +not deceive me any more," he said, almost savagely, and pointed +to the window. + +I looked in, and must confess that, for a moment, I too was +startled. There was a perceptible moment of time during which it +seemed as if no possible philosophy could explain what appeared +in sight. Not that any object showed itself within the great +drawing-room, but I distinctly saw--across the apartment, and +through the opposite window--the dark figure of a man about my +own size, who leaned against the long window, and gazed intently +on me. Above him spread the yellow sunset light, around him the +birch-boughs hung and the ivy-tendrils swayed, while behind him +there appeared a glimmering water-surface, across which slowly +drifted the tall masts of a schooner. It looked strangely like a +view I had seen of some foreign harbor,--Amalfi, perhaps,--with a +vine-clad balcony and a single human figure in the foreground. So +real and startling was the sight that at first it was not easy to +resolve the whole scene into its component parts. Yet it was +simply such a confused mixture of real and reflected images as +one often sees from the window of a railway carriage, where the +mirrored interior seems to glide beside the train, with the +natural landscape for a background. In this case, also, the frame +and foliage of the picture were real, and all else was reflected; +the sunlit bay behind us was reproduced as in a camera, and the +dark figure was but the full-length image of myself. + +It was easy to explain all this to Severance, but he shook his +head. "So cool a philosopher as yourself," he said, "should +remember that this image is not always visible. At our last +visit, we looked for it in vain. When we first saw it, it +appeared and disappeared within ten minutes. On your mechanical +theory it should be other-wise." + +This staggered me for a moment. Then the ready solution occurred, +that the reflection depended on the strength and direction of the +light; and I proved to him that, in our case, it had appeared and +disappeared with the sunshine. He was silenced, but evidently not +convinced; yet time and common-sense, it seemed, would take care +of that. + +Soon after all this, I was called out of town for a week or two. +If Severance would go with me, it would doubtless complete the +cure, I thought; but this he obstinately declined. After my +departure, my sister wrote, he seemed absolutely to haunt the +empty house by the Blue Rocks. He undoubtedly went here to +sketch, she thought. The house was in charge of a real-estate +agent,--a retired landscape-painter, whose pictures did not sell +so profitably as their originals; and her theory was, that this +agent hoped to make our friend buy the place, and so allured him +there under pretence of sketching. Moreover, she surmised, he was +studying some effect of shadow, because, unlike most men, he +appeared in decent spirits only on cloudy days. It is always so +easy to fit a man out with a set of ready-made motives! But I +drew my own conclusions, and was not surprised to hear, soon +after, that Severance was seriously ill. + +This brought me back at once,--sailing down from Providence in an +open boat, I remember, one lovely moonlight night. Next day I saw +Severance, who declared that he had suffered from nothing worse +than a prolonged sick-headache. I soon got out of him all that +had happened. He had seen the figure in the window every sunny +day, he said. Of course he had, if he chose to look for it, and I +could only smile, though it perhaps seemed unkind. But I stopped +smiling when he went on to tell that, not satisfied with these +observations, he had visited the house by moonlight also, and had +then seen, as he averred, a second figure standing beside the +first. + +Of course, there was no defence against such a theory as this, +except simply to laugh it down; but it made me very anxious, for +it showed that he was growing thoroughly morbid. "Either it was +pure fancy," I said, "or it was Paul the gardener." + +But here he was prepared for me. It seemed that, on seeing the +two figures, Severance had at once left the piazza, and, with an +instinct of common-sense that was surprising, had crossed the +garden, scaled the wall, and looked in at the window of Paul's +little cottage, where the man and his wife were quietly seated at +supper, probably after a late fishing-trip. "There was another +reason," he said; but here he stopped, and would give no +description of the second figure, which he had, however, seen +twice again, always by moon-light. He consented to let me +accompany him the following night. + +We accordingly went. It was a calm, clear night, and the moon lay +brightly on the bay. The distant shores looked low and filmy; a +naval vessel was in the harbor, and there was a ball on board, +with music and fire-works; some fishermen were singing in their +boats, late as was the hour. Severance was absorbed in his own +gloomy reveries; and when we had crossed the wall, the world +seemed left outside, and the glamour of the place began to creep +over me also. I seemed to see my companion relapsing into some +phantom realm, beyond power of withdrawal. I talked, sang, +whistled; but it was all a rather hollow effort, and soon ceased. +The great house looked gloomy and impenetrable, the moonlight +appeared sick and sad, the birch-boughs rustled in a dreary way. +We went up the steps in no jubilant mood. + +I crossed the piazza at once, looked in at the farthest window, +and saw there my own image, though far more faintly than in the +sunlight. Severance then joined me, and his reflected shape stood +by mine. Something of the first ghostly impression was renewed, I +must confess, by this meeting of the two shadows; there was +something rather awful in the way the bodiless things nodded and +gesticulated at each other in silence. Still, there was nothing +more than this, as Severance was compelled to own; and I was +trying to turn the whole affair into ridicule, when suddenly, +without sound or warning, I saw--as distinctly as I perceive the +words I now write--yet another figure stand at the window, gaze +steadfastly at us for a moment, and then disappear. It was, as I +fancied, that of a woman, but was totally enveloped in a very +full cloak, reaching to the ground, with a peculiarly cut hood, +that stood erect and seemed half as long as the body of the +garment. I had a vague recollection of having seen some such +costume in a picture. + +Of course, I dashed round the corner of the house, threaded the +birch-trees, and stood on the eastern piazza. No one was there. +Without losing an instant, I ran to the garden wall and climbed +it, as Severance had done, to look into Paul's cottage. That +worthy was just getting into bed, in a state of complicated +deshabille, his blackbearded head wrapped in an old scarlet +handkerchief that made him look like a retired pirate in reduced +circumstances. He being accounted for, I vainly traversed the +shrubberies, returned to the western piazza, watched awhile +uselessly, and went home with Severance, a good deal puzzled. + +By daylight the whole thing seemed different. That I had seen the +figure there was no doubt. It was not a reflected image, for we +had no companion. It was, then, human. After all, thought I, it +is a commonplace thing enough, this masquerading in a cloak and +hood. Someone has observed Severance's nocturnal visits, and is +amusing himself at his expense. The peculiarity was, that the +thing was so well done, and the figure had such an air of +dignity, that somehow it was not so easy to make light of it in +talking with him. + +I went into his room, next day. His sick-headache, or whatever it +was, had come on again, and he was lying on his bed. Rutherford's +strange old book on the Second Sight lay open before him. "Look +there," he said; and I read the motto of a chapter:-- + "In sunlight one, + In shadow none, + In moonlight two, + In thunder two, + Then comes Death." + +I threw the book indignantly from me, and began to invent +doggerel, parodying this precious incantation. But Severance did +not seem to enjoy the joke, and it grows tiresome to enact one's +own farce and do one's own applauding. + +For several days after he was laid up in earnest; but instead of +getting any mental rest from this, he lay poring over that +preposterous book, and it really seemed as if his brain were a +little disturbed. Meanwhile I watched the great house, day and +night, sought for footsteps, and, by some odd fancy, took +frequent observations on the gardener and his wife. Failing to +get any clew, I waited one day for Paul's absence, and made a +call upon the wife, under pretence of hunting up a missing +handkerchief,--for she had been my laundress. I found the +handsome, swarthy creature, with her six bronzed children around +her, training up the Madeira vine that made a bower of the whole +side of her little, black, gambrel-roofed cottage. On learning my +errand, she became full of sympathy, and was soon emptying her +bureau-drawers in pursuit of the lost handkerchief. As she opened +the lowest drawer, I saw within it something which sent all the +blood to my face for a moment. It was a black cloth cloak, with a +stiff hood two feet long, of precisely the pattern worn by the +unaccountable visitant at the window. I turned almost fiercely +upon her; but she looked so innocent as she stood there, +caressing and dusting with her fingers what was evidently a pet +garment, that it was really impossible to denounce her. + +"Is that a Bavarian cloak?" said I, trying to be cool and +judicial. + +Here broke in the eldest boy, named John, aged ten, a native +American, and a sailor already, whom I had twice fished up from a +capsized punt. "Mother ain't a Bavarian," quoth the young salt. +"Father's a Bavarian; mother's a Portegee. Portegees wear them +hoods." + +"I am a Portuguese, sir, from Fayal," said the woman, prolonging +with sweet intonation the soft name of her birthplace. "This is +my capote, she added, taking up with pride the uncouth costume, +while the children gathered round, as if its vast folds came +rarely into sight. + +"It has not been unfolded for a year," she said. As she spoke, +she dropped it with a cry, and a little mouse sprang from the +skirts, and whisked away into some corner. We found that the +little animal had made its abode in the heavy woollen, of which +three or four thicknesses had been eaten through, and then matted +together into the softest of nests. This contained, moreover, a +small family of mouselets, who certainly had not taken part in +any midnight masquerade. The secret seemed more remote than ever, +for I knew that there was no other Portuguese family in the town, +and there was no confounding this peculiar local costume with any +other. + +Returning to Severance's chamber, I said nothing of all this. He +was, by an odd coincidence, looking over a portfolio of Fayal +sketches made by himself during his late voyage. Among them were +a dozen studies of just such capotes as I had seen,--some in +profile, completely screening the wearer, others disclosing +women's faces, old or young. He seemed to wish to put them away, +however, when I came in. Really, the plot seemed to thicken; and +it was a little provoking to understand it no better, when all +the materials seemed close to one's hands. + +A day or two later, I was summoned to Boston. Returning thence by +the stage-coach, we drove from Tiverton, the whole length of the +island, under one of those wild and wonderful skies which give, +better than anything in nature, the effect of a field of battle. +The heavens were filled with ten thousand separate masses of +cloud, varying in shade from palest gray to iron-black, borne +rapidly to and fro by upper and lower currents of opposing wind. +They seemed to be charging, retreating, breaking, recombining, +with puffs of what seemed smoke, and a few wan sunbeams sometimes +striking through for fire. Wherever the eye turned, there +appeared some flying fragment not seen before; and yet in an hour +this noiseless Antietam grew still, and a settled leaden film +overspread the sky, yielding only to some level lines of light +where the sun went down. Perhaps our driver was looking toward +the sky more than to his own affairs, for, just as all this ended +a wheel gave out, and we had to stop in Portsmouth for repairs. +By the time we were again in motion, the changing wind had +brought up a final thunder-storm, which broke upon us ere we +reached our homes. It was rather an uncommon thing, so late in +the season; for the lightning, like other brilliant visitors, +usually appears in Oldport during only a month or two of every +year. + +The coach set me down at my own door, so soaked that I might have +floated in. I peeped into Severance's room, however, on the way +to my own. Strange to say, no one was there; yet some one had +evidently been lying on the bed, and on the pillow lay the old +book on the Second Sight, open at the very page which had so +bewitched him and vexed me. I glanced at it mechanically, and +when I came to the meaningless jumble, "In thunder two," a flash +flooded the chamber, and a sudden fear struck into my mind. Who +knew what insane experiment might have come into that boy's head? + +With sudden impulse, I went downstairs, and found the whole house +empty, until a stupid old woman, coming in from the wood-house +with her apron full of turnips, told me that Severance had been +missing since nightfall, after being for a week in bed, +dangerously ill, and sometimes slightly delirious. The family had +become alarmed,and were out with lanterns, in search of him. + +It was safe to say that none of them had more reason to be +alarmed than I. It was something, however, to know where to seek +him. Meeting two neighboring fishermen, I took them with me. As +we approached the well-known wall, the blast blew out our lights, +and we could scarcely speak. The lightning had grown less +frequent, yet sheets of flame seemed occasionally to break over +the dark, square sides of the house, and to send a flickering +flame along the ridge-pole and eaves, like a surf of light. A +surf of water broke also behind us on the Blue Rocks, sounding as +if it pursued our very footsteps; and one of the men whispered +hoarsely to me, that a Nantucket brig had parted her cable, and +was drifting in shore. + +As we entered the garden, lights gleamed in the shrubbery. To my +surprise, it was Paul and his wife, with their two oldest +children,--these last being quite delighted with the stir, and +showing so much illumination, in the lee of the house, that it +was quite a Feast of Lanterns. They seemed a little surprised at +meeting us, too; but we might as well have talked from Point +Judith to Beaver Tail as to have attempted conversation there. I +walked round the building; but a flash of lightning showed +nothing on the western piazza save a birch-tree, which lay +across, blown down by the storm. I therefore went inside, with +Paul's household, leaving the fishermen without. + +Never shall I forget that search. As we went from empty room to +room, the thunder seemed rolling on the very roof, and the sharp +flashes of lightning appeared to put out our lamps and then +kindle them again. We traversed the upper regions, mounting by a +ladder to the attic; then descended into the cellar and the +wine-vault. The thorough bareness of the house, the fact that no +bright-eyed mice peeped at us from their holes, no uncouth +insects glided on the walls, no flies buzzed in the unwonted +lamplight, scarcely a spider slid down his damp and trailing +web,--all this seemed to enhance the mystery. The vacancy was +more dreary than desertion: it was something old which had never +been young. We found ourselves speaking in whispers; the children +kept close to their parents; we seemed to be chasing some awful +Silence from room to room; and the last apartment, the great +drawing-room, we really seemed loath to enter. The less the rest +of the house had to show, the more, it seemed, must be +concentrated there. Even as we entered, a blast of air from a +broken pane extinguished our last light, and it seemed to take +many minutes to rekindle it. + +As it shone once more, a brilliant lightning-flash also swept +through the window, and flickered and flickered, as if it would +never have done. The eldest child suddenly screamed, and pointed +with her finger, first to one great window and then to its +opposite. My eyes instinctively followed the successive +directions; and the double glance gave me all I came to seek, and +more than all. Outside the western window lay Severance, his +white face against the pane, his eyes gazing across and past +us,--struck down doubtless by the fallen tree, which lay across +the piazza, and hid him from external view. Opposite him, and +seen through the eastern window, stood, statue-like, the hooded +figure, but with the great capote thrown back, showing a sad, +eager, girlish face, with dark eyes, and a good deal of black +hair,--one of those faces of peasant beauty such as America never +shows,--faces where ignorance is almost raised into refinement by +its childlike look. Contrasted with Severance's wild gaze, the +countenance wore an expression of pitying forgiveness, almost of +calm; yet it told of wasting sorrow and the wreck of a life. +Gleaming lustrous beneath the lightning, it had a more mystic +look when the long flash had ceased, and the single lantern +burned beneath it, like an altar-lamp before a shrine. + +"It is Aunt Emilia," exclaimed the little girl; and as she spoke, +the father, turning angrily upon her, dashed the light to the +ground, and groped his way out without a word of answer. I was +too much alarmed about Severance to care for aught else, and +quickly made my way to the western piazza, where I found him +stunned by the fallen tree,--injured, I feared, +internally,--still conscious, but unable to speak. + +With the aid of my two companions I got him home, and he was ill +for several weeks before he died. During his illness he told me +all he had to tell; and though Paul and his family disappeared +next day,--perhaps going on board the Nantucket brig, which had +narrowly escaped shipwreck,--I afterwards learned all the +remaining facts from the only neighbor in whom they had placed +confidence. Severance, while convalescing at a country-house in +Fayal, had fallen passionately in love with a young peasant-girl, +who had broken off her intended marriage for love of him, and had +sunk into a half-imbecile melancholy when deserted. She had +afterwards come to this country, and joined her sister, Paul's +wife. Paul had received her reluctantly, and only on condition +that her existence should be concealed. This was the easier, as +it was one of her whims to go out only by night, when she had +haunted the great house, which, she said, reminded her of her own +island, so that she liked to wear thither the capote which had +been the pride of her heart at home. On the few occasions when +she had caught a glimpse of Severance, he had seemed to her, no +doubt, as much a phantom as she seemed to him. On the night of +the storm, they had both sought their favorite haunt, unconscious +of each other, and the friends of each had followed in alarm. + +I got traces of the family afterwards at Nantucket and later at +Narragansett, and had reason to think that Paul was employed, one +summer, by a farmer on Conanicut; but I was always just too late +for them; and the money which Severance left, as his only +reparation for poor Emilia, never was paid. The affair was hushed +up, and very few, even among the neighbors, knew the tragedy that +had passed by them with the storm. + +After Severance died, I had that temporary feeling of weakened +life which remains after the first friend or the first love +passes, and the heart seems to lose its sense of infinity. His +father came, and prosed, and measured the windows of the empty +house, and calculated angles of reflection, and poured even death +and despair into his crucible of commonplace; the mother whined +in her feebler way at home; while the only brother, a talkative +medical student, tried to pooh-pooh it all, and sent me a letter +demonstrating that Emilia was never in America, and that the +whole was an hallucination. I cared nothing for his theory; it +all seemed like a dream to me, and, as all the actors but myself +are gone, it seems so still. The great house is yet unoccupied, +and likely to remain so; and he who looks through its western +window may still be startled by the weird image of himself. As I +lingered round it, to-day, beneath the winter sunlight, the snow +drifted pitilessly past its ivied windows, and so hushed my +footsteps that I scarce knew which was the phantom, myself or my +reflection, and wondered if the medical student would not argue +me out of existence next. + +This is the end of my story. If I sought for a moral, it would be +hard to attach one to a thing so slight. It could only be this, +that shadow and substance are always ready to link themselves, in +unexpected ways, against the diseased imagination; and that +remorse can make the most transparent crystal into a mirror for +its sin. + + +A Drift-Wood Fire. + "This ae nighte, this ae nighte, + Every nighte and alle, + Fire and salt and candle-lighte, + And Christe receive thy saule." + A Lyke-Wake Dirge. + +The October days grow rapidly shorter, and brighten with more +concentrated light. It is but half past five, yet the sun dips +redly behind Conanicut, the sunset-gun booms from our neighbor's +yacht, the flag glides down from his mainmast, and the slender +pennant, running swiftly up the opposite halyards, dances and +flickers like a flame, and at last perches, with dainty +hesitation, at the mast-head. A tint of salmon-color, burnished +into long undulations of lustre, overspreads the shallower waves; +but a sober gray begins to steal in beneath the sunset rays, and +will soon claim even the brilliant foreground for its own. Pile a +few more fragments of drift-wood upon the fire in the great +chimney, little maiden, and then couch yourself before it, that I +may have your glowing childhood as a foreground for those heaped +relics of shipwreck and despair. You seem, in your scarlet +boating-dress, Annie, like some bright tropic bird,alit for a +moment beside that other bird of the tropics, flame. + +Thoreau thought that his temperament dated from an earlier period +than the agricultural, because he preferred woodcraft to +gardening; and it is also pleasant to revert to the period when +men had invented neither saws nor axes, but simply picked up +their fuel in forests or on ocean-shores. Fire is a thing which +comes so near us, and combines itself so closely with our life, +that we enjoy it best when we work for it in some way, so that +our fuel shall warm us twice, as the country people say,--once in +the getting, and again in the burning. Yet no work seems to have +more of the flavor of play in it than that of collecting +drift-wood on some convenient beach, or than this boat-service of +ours, Annie, when we go wandering from island to island in the +harbor, and glide over sea-weedgroves and the habitations of +crabs,--or to the flowery and ruined bastions of Rose Island,--or +to those caves at Coaster's Harbor where we played Victor Hugo, +and were eaten up in fancy by a cuttle-fish. Then we voyaged, you +remember, to that further cave in, the solid rock, just above +low-water-mark, a cell unapproachable by land, and high enough +for you to stand erect. There you wished to play Constance in +Marmion, and to be walled up alive, if convenient; but as it +proved impracticable on that day, you helped me to secure some +bits of drift-wood instead. Longer voyages brought waifs from +remoter islands,--whose very names tell, perchance, the changing +story of mariners long since wrecked,--isles baptized Patience +and Prudence, Hope and Despair. And other relics bear witness of +more distant beaches, and of those wrecks which still lie, +sentinels of ruin, along Brenton's Point and Castle Hill. + +To collect drift-wood is like botanizing, and one soon learns to +recognize the prevailing species, and to look with pleased +eagerness for new. It is a tragic botany indeed, where, as in +enchanted gardens, every specimen has a voice, and, as you take +each from the ground, you expect from it a cry like the +mandrake's. And from what a garden it comes! As one walks round +Brenton's Point after an autumnal storm, it seems as if the +passionate heaving of the waves had brought wholly new tints to +the surface, hues unseen even in dreams before, greens and +purples impossible in serener days. These match the prevailing +green and purple of the slate-cliffs; and Nature in truth carries +such fine fitnesses yet further. For, as we tread the delicate +seaside turf, which makes the farthest point seem merely the +land's last bequest of emerald to the ocean, we suddenly come +upon curved lines of lustrous purple amid the grass, rows on rows +of bright muscle-shells, regularly traced as if a child had +played there,--the graceful high-water-mark of the terrible +storm. + +It is the crowning fascination of the sea, the consummation of +such might in such infantine delicacy. You may notice it again in +the summer, when our bay is thronged for miles on miles with +inch-long jelly-fishes,--lovely creatures, in shape like +disembodied gooseberries, and shot through and through in the +sunlight with all manner of blue and golden glistenings, and +bearing tiny rows of fringing oars that tremble like a baby's +eyelids. There is less of gross substance in them than in any +other created thing,--mere water and outline, destined to perish +at a touch, but seemingly never touching, for they float secure, +finding no conceivable cradle so soft as this awful sea. They are +like melodies amid Beethoven's Symphonies, or like the songs that +wander through Shakespeare, and that seem things too fragile to +risk near Cleopatra's passion and Hamlet's woe. Thus tender is +the touch of ocean; and look, how around this piece of oaken +timber, twisted and torn and furrowed,--its iron bolts snapped +across as if bitten,--there is yet twined a gay garland of +ribbon-weed, bearing on its trailing stem a cluster of bright +shells, like a mermaid's chatelaine. + +Thus adorned, we place it on the blaze. As night gathers without, +the gale rises. It is a season of uneasy winds, and of strange, +rainless storms, which perplex the fishermen, and indicate rough +weather out at sea. As the house trembles and the windows rattle, +we turn towards the fire with a feeling of safety. Representing +the fiercest of all dangers, it yet expresses security and +comfort. + +Should a gale tear the roof from over our heads and show the +black sky alone above us, we should not feel utterly homeless +while this fire burned,--at least I can recall such a feeling of +protection when once left suddenly roofless by night in one of +the wild gorges of Mount Katahdin. There is a positive +demonstrative force in an open fire, which makes it your fit ally +in a storm. Settled and obdurate cold may well be encountered by +the quiet heat of an invisible furnace. But this howling wind +might depress one's spirits, were it not met by a force as +palpable,--the warm blast within answering to the cold blast +without. The wide chimney then becomes the scene of contest: wind +meets wind, sparks encounter rain-drops, they fight in the air +like the visioned soldiers of Attila; sometimes a daring drop +penetrates, and dies, hissing, on the hearth; and sometimes a +troop of sparks may make a sortie from the chimney-top. I know +not how else we can meet the elements by a defiance so +magnificent as that from this open hearth; and in burning +drift-wood, especially, we turn against the enemy his own +ammunition. For on these fragments three elements have already +done their work. Water racked and strained the hapless ships, air +hunted them, and they were thrown at last upon earth, the +sternest of all. Now fire takes the shattered remnants, and makes +them a means of comfort and defence. + +It has been pointed out by botanists, as one of Nature's most +graceful retributions, that, in the building of the ship, the +apparent balance of vegetable forces is reversed, and the herb +becomes master of the tree, when the delicate, blue-eyed flax, +taking the stately pine under its protection, stretches over it +in cordage, or spreads in sails. But more graceful still is this +further contest between the great natural elements, when this +most fantastic and vanishing thing, this delicate and dancing +flame, subdues all these huge vassals to its will, and, after +earth and air and water have done their utmost, comes in to +complete the task, and to be crowned as monarch. "The sea drinks +the air," said Anacreon, "and the sun the sea." My fire is the +child of the sun. + +I come back from every evening stroll to this gleaming blaze; it +is a domestic lamp, and shines for me everywhere. To my +imagination it burns as a central flame among these dark houses, +and lights up the whole of this little fishing hamlet, humble +suburb of the fashionable watering-place. I fancy that others too +perceive the light, and that certain huge visitors are attracted, +even when the storm keeps neighbors and friends at home. For the +slightest presage of foul weather is sure to bring to yonder +anchorage a dozen silent vessels, that glide up the harbor for +refuge, and are heard but once, when the chain-cable rattles as +it runs out, and the iron hand of the anchor grasps the rock. It +always seems to me that these unwieldy creatures are gathered, +not about the neighboring lighthouse only, but around our +ingle-side. Welcome, ye great winged strangers, whose very names +are unknown! This hearth is comprehensive in its hospitalities; +it will accept from you either its fuel or its guests; your +mariners may warm themselves beside it, or your scattered timbers +may warm me. Strange instincts might be supposed to thrill and +shudder in the ribs of ships that sail toward the beacon of a +drift-wood fire. Morituri salutant. A single shock, and all that +magnificent fabric may become mere fuel to prolong the flame. + +Here, beside the roaring ocean, this blaze represents the only +receptacle more vast than ocean. We say, "unstable as water." But +there is nothing unstable about the flickering flame; it is +persistent and desperate, relentless in following its ends. It is +the most tremendous physical force that man can use. "If drugs +fail," said Hippocrates, "use the knife; should the knife fail, +use fire." Conquered countries were anciently given over to fire +and sword: the latter could only kill, but the other could +annihilate. See how thoroughly it does its work, even when +domesticated: it takes up everything upon the hearth and leaves +all clean. The Greek proverb says, that "the sea drinks up all +the sins of the world." Save fire only, the sea is the most +capacious of all things. + +But its task is left incomplete: it only hides its records, while +fire destroys them. In the Norse Edda, when the gods try their +games, they find themselves able to out-drink the ocean, but not +to eat like the flame. Logi, or fire, licks up food and trencher +and all. This chimney is more voracious than the sea. Give time +enough, and all which yonder depths contain might pass through +this insatiable throat, leaving only a few ashes and the memory +of a flickering shade,--pulvis et umbra. We recognize this when +we have anything to conceal. Deep crimes are buried in earth, +deeper are sunk In water, but the deepest of all are confided by +trembling men to the profounder secrecy of flame. If every old +chimney could narrate the fearful deeds whose last records it has +cancelled, what sighs of undying passion would breathe from its +dark summit,--what groans of guilt! Those lurid sparks that whirl +over yonder house-top, tossed aloft as if fire itself could not +contain them, may be the last embers of some written scroll, one +rescued word of which might suffice for the ruin of a household, +and the crushing of many hearts. + +But this domestic hearth of ours holds only, besides its +drift-wood, the peaceful records of the day,--its shreds and +fragments and fallen leaves. As the ancients poured wine upon +their flames, so I pour rose-leaves in libation; and each morning +contributes the faded petals of yesterday's wreaths. All our +roses of this season have passed up this chimney in the blaze. +Their delicate veins were filled with all the summer's fire, and +they returned to fire once more,--ashes to ashes, flame to flame. +For holding, with Bettina, that every flower which is broken +becomes immortal in the sacrifice, I deem it more fitting that +their earthly part should die by a concentration of that burning +element which would at any rate be in some form their ending; so +they have their altar on this bright hearth. + +Let us pile up the fire anew with drift-wood, Annie. We can +choose at random; for our logs came from no single forest. It is +considered an important branch of skill in the country to know +the varieties of firewood, and to choose among them well. But +to-night we have the whole Atlantic shore for our wood-pile, and +the Gulf Stream for a teamster. Every foreign tree of rarest name +may, for aught we know, send its treasures to our hearth. Logwood +and satinwood may mingle with cedar and maple; the old cellar +floors of this once princely town are of mahogany, and why not +our fire? I have a very indistinct impression what teak is; but +if it means something black and impenetrable and nearly +indestructible, then there is a piece of it, Annie, on the hearth +at this moment. + +It must be owned, indeed, that timbers soaked long enough in +salt-water seem almost to lose their capacity of being burnt. +Perhaps it was for this reason that, in the ancient "lyke-wakes" +of the North of England, a pinch of salt was placed upon the dead +body, as a safeguard against purgatorial flames. Yet salt melts +ice, and so represents heat, one would think; and one can fancy +that these fragments should be doubly inflammable, by their +saline quality, and by the unmerciful rubbing which the waves +have given them. I have noticed what warmth this churning process +communicates to the clotted foam that lies in tremulous masses +among the rocks, holding all the blue of ocean in its bubbles. +After one's hands are chilled with the water, one can warm them +in the foam. These drift-wood fragments are but the larger foam +of shipwrecks. + +What strange comrades this flame brings together! As foreign +sailors from remotest seas may sit and chat side by side, before +some boarding-house fire in this seaport town, so these shapeless +sticks, perhaps gathered from far wider wanderings, now nestle +together against the backlog, and converse in strange dialects as +they burn. It is written in the Heetopades of Veeshnoo Sarma, +that, "as two planks, floating on the surface of the mighty +receptacle of the waters, meet, and having met are separated +forever, so do beings in this life come together and presently +are parted." Perchance this chimney reunites the planks, at the +last moment, as death must reunite friends. + +And with what wondrous voices these strayed wanderers talk to one +another on the hearth! They bewitch us by the mere fascination of +their language. Such a delicacy of intonation, yet such a volume +of sound. The murmur of the surf is not so soft or so solemn. +There are the merest hints and traceries of tones,--phantom +voices, more remote from noise than anything which is noise; and +yet there is an undertone of roar, as from a thousand cities, the +cities whence these wild voyagers came. Watch the decreasing +sounds of a fire as it dies,--for it seems cruel to leave it, as +we do, to die alone. I watched beside this hearth last night. As +the fire sank down, the little voices grew stiller and more +still, and at last there came only irregular beats, at varying +intervals, as if from a heart that acted spasmodically, or as if +it were measuring off by ticks the little remnant of time. Then +it said, "Hush!" two or three times, and there came something so +like a sob that it seemed human; and then all was still. + +If these dying voices are so sweet and subtile, what legends must +be held untold by yonder fragments that lie unconsumed! +Photography has familiarized us with the thought that every +visible act, since the beginning of the world, has stamped itself +upon surrounding surfaces, even if we have not yet skill to +discern and hold the image. And especially, in looking on a +liquid expanse, such as the ocean in calm, one is haunted with +these fancies. I gaze into its depths, and wonder if no stray +reflection has been imprisoned there, still accessible to human +eyes, of some scene of passion or despair it has witnessed; as +some maiden visitor at Holyrood Palace, looking in the ancient +metallic mirror, might start at the thought that perchance some +lineament of Mary Stuart may suddenly look out, in desolate and +forgotten beauty, mingled with her own. And if the mere waters of +the ocean, satiate and wearied with tragedy as they must be, +still keep for our fancy such records, how much more might we +attribute a human consciousness to these shattered fragments, +each seared by its own special grief. + +Yet while they are silent, I like to trace back for these +component parts of my fire such brief histories as I share. This +block, for instance, came from the large schooner which now lies +at the end of Castle Hill Beach, bearing still aloft its broken +masts and shattered rigging, and with its keel yet stanch, except +that the stern-post is gone,--so that each tide sweeps in its +green harvest of glossy kelp, and then tosses it in the hold like +hay, desolately tenanting the place which once sheltered men. The +floating weed, so graceful in its own place, looks but dreary +when thus confined. On that fearfully cold Monday of last winter +(January 8, 1866) when the mercury stood at-10° even in this +mildest corner of New England,--this vessel was caught helplessly +amid the ice that drifted out of the west passage of Narragansett +Bay, before the fierce north-wind. They tried to beat into the +eastern entrance, but the schooner seemed in sinking condition, +the sails and helm were clogged with ice, and every rope, as an +eye-witness told me, was as large as a man's body with frozen +sleet. Twice they tacked across, making no progress; and then, to +save their lives, ran the vessel on the rocks and got ashore. +After they had left her, a higher wave swept her off, and drifted +her into a little cove, where she has ever since remained. + +There were twelve wrecks along this shore last winter,--more than +during any season for a quarter of a century. I remember when the +first of these lay in great fragments on Graves Point, a schooner +having been stranded on Cormorant Rocks outside, and there broken +in pieces by the surf. She had been split lengthwise, and one +great side was leaning up against the sloping rock, bows on, like +some wild sea-creature never before beheld of men, and come there +but to die. So strong was this impression that when I afterwards +saw men at work upon the wreck, tearing out the iron bolts and +chains, it seemed like torturing the last moments of a living +thing. At my next visit there was no person in sight; another +companion fragment had floated ashore, and the two lay peacefully +beside the sailors' graves (which give the name to the point), as +if they found comfort there. A little farther on there was a brig +ashore and deserted. A fog came in from the sea; and, as I sat by +the graves, some unseen passing vessel struck eight bells for +noon. For a moment I fancied that it came from the empty brig,--a +ghostly call, to summon phantom sailors. + +That smouldering brand, which has alternately gleamed and +darkened for so many minutes, I brought from Price's Neck last +winter, when the Brenton's Reef Light-ship went ashore. Yonder +the oddly shaped vessel rides at anchor now, two miles from land, +bearing her lanterns aloft at fore and main top. She parted her +moorings by night, in the fearful storm of October19, 1865; and I +well remember, that, as I walked through the streets that wild +evening, it seemed dangerous to be out of doors, and I tried to +imagine what was going on at sea, while at that very moment the +light-ship was driving on toward me in the darkness. It was thus +that it happened:- + +There had been a heavy gale from the southeast, which, after a +few hours of lull, suddenly changed in the afternoon to the +southwest, which is, on this coast, the prevailing direction. +Beginning about three o'clock, this new wind had risen almost to +a hurricane by six, and held with equal fury till midnight, after +which it greatly diminished, though, when I visited the wreck +next morning, it was hard to walk against the blast. The +light-ship went adrift at eight in the evening; the men let go +another anchor, with forty fathoms of cable; this parted also, +but the cable dragged, as she drifted in, keeping the vessel's +head to the wind, which was greatly to her advantage. The great +waves took her over five lines of reef, on each of which her keel +grazed or held for a time. She came ashore on Price's Neck at +last, about eleven. + +It was utterly dark; the sea broke high over the ship, even over +her lanterns, and the crew could only guess that they were near +the land by the sound of the surf. The captain was not on board, +and the mate was in command, though his leg had been broken while +holding the tiller. They could not hear each other's voices, and +could scarcely cling to the deck. There seemed every chance that +the ship would go to pieces before daylight. At last one of the +crew, named William Martin, a Scotchman, thinking, as he +afterwards told me, of his wife and three children, and of the +others on board who had families,--and that something must be +done, and he might as well do it as anybody,--got a rope bound +around his waist, and sprang overboard. I asked the mate next day +whether he ordered Martin to do this, and he said, "No, he +volunteered it. I would not have ordered him, for I would not +have done it myself." What made the thing most remarkable was, +that the man actually could not swim, and did not know how far +off the shore was, but trusted to the waves to take him +thither,--perhaps two hundred yards. His trust was repaid. +Struggling in the mighty surf, he sometimes felt the rocks +beneath his feet, sometimes bruised his hands against them. At +any rate he got on shore alive, and, securing his rope, made his +way over the moors to the town, and summoned his captain, who was +asleep in his own house. They returned at once to the spot, found +the line still fast, and the rest of the crew, four in number, +lowered the whaleboat, and were pulled to shore by the rope, +landing safely before daybreak. + +When I saw the vessel next morning, she lay in a little cove, +stern on, not wholly out of water,--steady and upright as in a +dry-dock, with no sign of serious injury, except that the rudder +was gone. She did not seem like a wreck; the men were the wrecks. +As they lay among the rocks, bare or tattered, scarcely able to +move, waiting for low tide to go on board the vessel, it was like +a scene after a battle. They appeared too inert, poor fellows, to +do anything but yearn toward the sun. When they changed position +for shelter, from time to time, they crept along the rocks, +instead of walking. They were like the little floating sprays of +sea-weed, when you take them from the water and they become a +mere mass of pulp in your hand. Martin shared in the general +exhaustion, and no wonder; but he told his story very simply, and +showed me where he had landed. The feat seemed to me then, and +has always seemed, almost incredible, even for an expert swimmer. +He thus summed up the motives for his action: "I thought that God +was first, and I was next, and if I did the best I could, no man +could do more than that; so I jumped overboard." It is pleasant +to add, that, though a poor man, he utterly declined one of those +small donations of money by which we Anglo-Saxons are wont +clumsily to express our personal enthusiasms; and I think I +appreciated his whole action the more for its coming just at the +close of a war during which so many had readily accepted their +award of praise or pay for acts of less intrinsic daring than +his. + +Stir the fire, Annie, with yonder broken fragment of a +flag-staff; its truck is still remaining, though the flag is +gone, and every nation might claim it. As you stir, the burning +brands evince a remembrance of their sea-lost life, the sparks +drift away like foam-flakes, the flames wave and flap like sails, +and the wail of the chimney sings a second shipwreck. As the tiny +scintillations gleam and scatter and vanish in the soot of the +chimney-wall, instead of "There goes the parson, and there goes +the clerk," it must be the captain and the crew we watch. A +drift-wood fire should always have children to tend it; for there +is something childlike about it, unlike the steadier glow of +walnut logs. It has a coaxing, infantine way of playing with the +oddly shaped bits of wood we give it, and of deserting one to +caress with flickering impulse another; and at night, when it +needs to be extinguished, it is as hard to put to rest as a +nursery of children, for some bright little head is constantly +springing up anew, from its pillow of ashes. And, in turn, what +endless delight children find in the manipulation of a fire! + +What a variety of playthings, too, in this fuel of ours; such +inexplicable pieces, treenails and tholepins, trucks and sheaves, +the lid of a locker, and a broken handspike. These larger +fragments are from spars and planks and knees. Some were dropped +overboard in this quiet harbor; others may have floated from +Fayal or Hispaniola, Mozambique or Zanzibar. This eagle +figure-head, chipped and battered, but still possessing highly +aquiline features and a single eye, may have tangled its curved +beak in the vast weed-beds of the Sargasso Sea, or dipped it in +the Sea of Milk. Tell us your story, O heroic but dilapidated +bird! and perhaps song or legend may find in it themes that shall +be immortal. + +The eagle is silent, and I suspect, Annie, that he is but a +plain, home-bred fowl after all. But what shall we say to this +piece of plank, hung with barnacles that look large enough for +the fabled barnacle-goose to emerge from? Observe this fragment a +little. Another piece is secured to it, not neatly, as with +proper tools, but clumsily, with many nails of different sizes, +driven unevenly and with their heads battered awry. Wedged +clumsily in between these pieces, and secured by a supplementary +nail, is a bit of broken rope. Let us touch that rope tenderly; +for who knows what despairing hands may last have clutched it +when this rude raft was made? It may, indeed, have been the +handiwork of children, on the Penobscot or the St. Mary's River. +But its Condition betokens voyages yet longer; and it may just as +well have come from the stranded "Golden Rule" on Roncador +Reef,--that picturesque shipwreck where (as a rescued woman told +me) the eyes of the people in their despair seemed full of +sublime resignation, so that there was no confusion or outcry, +and even gamblers and harlots looked death in the face as nobly, +for all that could be seen, as the saintly and the pure. Or who +knows but it floated round Cape Horn, from that other wreck, on +the Pacific shore, of the "Central America," where the rough +miners found that there was room in the boats only for their +wives and their gold; and where, pushing the women off, with a +few men to row them, the doomed husbands gave a cheer of courage +as the ship went down. + +Here again is a piece of pine wood, cut in notches as for a +tally, and with every seventh notch the longest; these notches +having been cut deeply at the beginning, and feebly afterwards, +stopping abruptly before the end was reached. Who could have +carved it? Not a school-boy awaiting vacation, or a soldier +expecting his discharge; for then each tally would have been cut +off, instead of added. Nor could it be the squad of two soldiers +who garrison Rose Island; for their tour of duty lasts but a +week. There are small barnacles and sea-weed too, which give the +mysterious stick a sort of brevet antiquity. It has been long +adrift, and these little barnacles, opening and closing daily +their minute valves, have kept meanwhile their own register, and +with their busy fringed fingers have gathered from the whole +Atlantic that small share of its edible treasures which sufficed +for them. Plainly this waif has had its experiences. It was +Robinson Crusoe's, Annie, depend upon it. We will save it from +the flames, and when we establish our marine museum, nothing save +a veritable piece of the North Pole shall be held so valuable as +this undoubted relic from Juan Fernandez. + +But the night deepens, and its reveries must end. With the winter +will pass away the winter-storms, and summer will bring its own +more insidious perils. Then the drowsy old seaport will blaze +into splendor, through saloon and avenue, amidst which many a +bright career will end suddenly and leave no sign. The ocean +tries feebly to emulate the profounder tragedies of the shore. In +the crowded halls of gay hotels, I see wrecks drifting +hopelessly, dismasted and rudderless, to be stranded on hearts +harder and more cruel than Brenton's Reef, yet hid in smiles +falser than its fleecy foam. What is a mere forsaken ship, +compared with stately houses from which those whom I first knew +in their youth and beauty have since fled into midnight and +despair? + +But one last gleam upon our hearth lights up your innocent eyes, +little Annie, and dispels the gathering shade. The flame dies +down again, and you draw closer to my side. The pure moon looks +in at the southern window, replacing the ruddier glow; while the +fading embers lisp and prattle to one another, like drowsy +children, more and more faintly, till they fall asleep. + + + +AN ARTIST'S CREATION. + +When I reached Kenmure's house, one August evening, it was rather +a disappointment to find that he and his charming Laura had +absented themselves for twenty-four hours. I had not seen them +together since their marriage; my admiration for his varied +genius and her unvarying grace was at its height, and I was +really annoyed at the delay. My fair cousin, with her usual exact +housekeeping, had prepared everything for her guest, and then +bequeathed me, as she wrote, to Janet and baby Marian. It was a +pleasant arrangement, for between baby Marian and me there +existed a species of passion, I might almost say of betrothal, +ever since that little three-year-old sunbeam had blessed my +mother's house by lingering awhile in it, six months before. +Still I went to bed disappointed, though the delightful windows +of the chamber looked out upon the glimmering bay, and the +swinging lanterns at the yard-arms of the frigates shone like +some softer constellation beneath the brilliant sky. The house +was so close upon the water that the cool waves seemed to plash +deliciously against its very basement; and it was a comfort to +think that, if there were no adequate human greetings that night, +there would be plenty in the morning, since Marian would +inevitably be pulling my eyelids apart before sunrise. + +It was scarcely dawn when I was roused by a little arm round my +neck, and waked to think I had one of Raphael's cherubs by my +side. Fingers of waxen softness were ruthlessly at work upon my +eyes, and the little form that met my touch felt lithe and +elastic, like a kitten's limbs. There was just light enough to +see the child, perched on the edge of the bed, her soft blue +dressing-gown trailing over the white night-dress, while her +black and long-fringed eyes shone through the dimness of morning. +She yielded gladly to my grasp, and I could fondle again the +silken hair, the velvety brunette cheek, the plump, childish +shoulders. Yet sleep still half held me, and when my cherub +appeared to hold it a cherubic practice to begin the day with a +demand for lively anecdote, I was fain drowsily to suggest that +she might first tell some stories to her doll. With the sunny +readiness that was a part of her nature, she straightway turned +to that young lady,--plain Susan Halliday, with both cheeks +patched, and eyes of different colors,--and soon discoursed both +her and me into repose. + +When I waked again, it was to find the child conversing with the +morning star, which still shone through the window, scarcely so +lucent as her eyes, and bidding it go home to its mother, the +sun. Another lapse into dreams, and then a more vivid awakening, +and she had my ear at last, and won story after story, requiting +them with legends of her own youth, "almost a year ago,"--how she +was perilously lost, for instance, in the small front yard, with +a little playmate, early in the afternoon, and how they came and +peeped into the window, and thought all the world had forgotten +them. Then the sweet voice, distinct in its articulation as +Laura's, went straying off into wilder fancies,--a chaos of +autobiography and conjecture, like the letters of a war +correspondent. You would have thought her little life had yielded +more pangs and fears than might have sufficed for the discovery +of the North Pole; but breakfast-time drew near at last, and +Janet's honest voice was heard outside the door. I rather envied +the good Scotchwoman the pleasant task of polishing the smooth +cheeks and combing the dishevelled silk; but when, a little +later, the small maiden was riding down stairs in my arms, I +envied no one. + +At sight of the bread and milk, my cherub was transformed into a +hungry human child, chiefly anxious to reach the bottom of her +porringer. I was with her a great deal that day. She gave no +manner of trouble: it was like having the charge of a floating +butterfly, endowed with warm arms to clasp, and a silvery voice +to prattle. I sent Janet out to sail, with the other servants, by +way of frolic, and Marian's perfect temperament was shown in the +way she watched the departing. + +"There they go," she said, as she stood and danced at the window. +"Now they are out of sight." + +"What!" I said, "are you pleased to have your friends go?" + +"Yes," she answered; "but I shall be pleased-er to see them come +back." + +Life to her was no alternation between joy and grief, but only +between joy and delight. + +Twilight brought us to an improvised concert. Climbing the +piano-stool, she went over the notes with her little taper +fingers, touching the keys in a light, knowing way, that proved +her a musician's child. Then I must play for her, and let the +dance begin. This was a wondrous performance on her part, and +consisted at first in hopping up and down on one spot, with no +change of motion, but in her hands. She resembled a minute and +irrepressible Shaker, or a live and beautiful marionnette. Then +she placed Janet in the middle of the floor, And performed the +dance round her, after the manner of Vivien and Merlin. Then came +her supper, which, like its predecessors, was a solid and +absorbing meal; then one more fairy story, to magnetize her off, +and she danced and sang herself up stairs. And if she first came +to me in the morning with a halo round her head, she seemed still +to retain it when I at last watched her kneeling in the little +bed--perfectly motionless, with her hands placed together, and +her long lashes sweeping her cheeks--to repeat two verses of a +hymn which Janet had taught her. My nerves quivered a little when +I saw that Susan Halliday had also been duly prepared for the +night, and had been put in the same attitude, so far as her +jointless anatomy permitted. This being ended, the doll and her +mistress reposed together, and only an occasional toss of the +vigorous limbs, or a stifled baby murmur, would thenceforth +prove, through the darkened hours, that the one figure had in it +more of life than the other. + +On the next morning Kenmure and Laura came back to us, and I +walked down to receive them at the boat. I had forgotten how +striking was their appearance, as they stood together. His broad, +strong, Saxon look, his manly bearing and clear blue eyes, +enhanced the fascination of her darker beauty. + +America is full of the short-lived bloom and freshness of +girlhood; but it is a rare thing in one's life to see a beauty +that really controls with a permanent charm. One must remember +such personal loveliness, as one recalls some particular +moonlight or sunset, with a special and concentrated joy, which +the multiplicity of fainter impressions cannot disturb. When in +those days we used to read, in Petrarch's one hundred and +twenty-third sonnet, that he had once beheld on earth angelic +manners and celestial charms, whose very remembrance was a +delight and an affliction, since it made all else appear but +dream and shadow, we could easily fancy that nature had certain +permanent attributes which accompanied the name of Laura. + +Our Laura had that rich brunette beauty before which the mere +snow and roses of the blonde must always seem wan and +unimpassioned. In the superb suffusions of her cheek there seemed +to flow a tide of passions and powers that might have been +tumultuous in a meaner woman, but over which, in her, the clear +and brilliant eyes and the sweet, proud mouth presided in +unbroken calm. These superb tints implied resources only, not a +struggle. With this torrent from the tropics in her veins, she +was the most equable person I ever saw, and had a supreme and +delicate good-sense, which, if not supplying the place of genius, +at least comprehended its work. Not intellectually gifted +herself, perhaps, she seemed the cause of gifts in others, and +furnished the atmosphere in which all showed their best. With the +steady and thoughtful enthusiasm of her Puritan ancestors, she +combined that charm which is so rare among their descendants,--a +grace which fascinated the humblest,while it would have been just +the same in the society of kings. Her person had the equipoise +and symmetry of her mind. While it had its separate points of +beauty, each a source of distinct and peculiar pleasure,--as, the +outline of her temples, the white line that parted her nightblack +hair, the bend of her wrists, the moulding of her +finger-tips,--yet these details were lost in the overwhelming +sweetness of her presence, and the serene atmosphere that she +diffused over all human life. + +A few days passed rapidly by us. We walked and rode and boated +and read. Little Marian came and went, a living sunbeam, a +self-sufficing thing. It was soon obvious that she was far less +demonstrative toward her parents than toward me; while her +mother, gracious to her as to all, yet rarely caressed her, and +Kenmure, though habitually kind, was inclined to ignore her +existence, and could scarcely tolerate that she should for one +instant preoccupy his wife. For Laura he lived, and she must live +for him. He had a studio, which I rarely entered and Marian +never, though Laura was almost constantly there; and after the +first cordiality was past, I observed that their daily +expeditions were always arranged for only two. The weather was +beautiful, and they led the wildest outdoor life, cruising all +day or all night among the islands, regardless of hours, and +almost of health. No matter: Kenmure liked it, and what he liked +she loved. When at home, they were chiefly in the studio, he +painting, modelling, poetizing perhaps, and she inseparably +united with him in all. It was very beautiful, this unworldly and +passionate love, and I could have borne to be omitted in their +daily plans,--since little Marian was left to me,--save that it +seemed so strange to omit her also. Besides, there grew to be +something a little oppressive in this peculiar atmosphere; it was +like living in a greenhouse. + +Yet they always spoke in the simplest way of this absorbing +passion, as of something about which no reticence was needed; it +was too sacred not to be mentioned; it would be wrong not to +utter freely to all the world what was doubtless the best thing +the world possessed. Thus Kenmure made Laura his model in all his +art; not to coin her into wealth or fame,--he would have scorned +it; he would have valued fame and wealth only as instruments for +proclaiming her. Looking simply at these two lovers, then, it was +plain that no human union could be more noble or stainless. Yet +so far as others were concerned, it sometimes seemed to me a kind +of duplex selfishness, so profound and so undisguised as to make +one shudder. "Is it," I asked myself at such moments, "a great +consecration, or a great crime?" But something must be allowed, +perhaps, for my own private dis-satisfactions in Marian's behalf. + +I had easily persuaded Janet to let me have a peep every night at +my darling, as she slept; and once I was surprised to find Laura +sitting by the small white bed. Graceful and beautiful as she +always was, she never before had seemed to me so lovely, for she +never had seemed quite like a mother. But I could not demand a +sweeter look of tenderness than that with which she now gazed +upon her child. + +Little Marian lay with one brown, plump hand visible from its +full white sleeve, while the other nestled half hid beneath the +sheet, grasping a pair of blue morocco shoes, the last +acquisition of her favorite doll. Drooping from beneath the +pillow hung a handful of scarlet poppies, which the child had +wished to place under her head, in the very superfluous project +of putting herself to sleep thereby. Her soft brown hair was +scattered on the sheet, her black lashes lay motionless upon the +olive cheeks. Laura wished to move her, that I might see her the +better. + +"You will wake her," exclaimed I, in alarm. + +"Wake this little dormouse?" Laura lightly answered. +"Impossible." + +And, twining her arms about her, the young mother lifted the +child from the bed, three or four times in succession, while the +healthy little creature remained utterly undisturbed, breathing +the same quiet breath. I watched Laura with amazement; she seemed +transformed. + +She gayly returned my eager look, and then, seeming suddenly to +penetrate its meaning, cast down her eyes, while the color +mounted into her cheeks. "You thought," she said, almost sternly, +"that I did not love my child." + +"No," I said half untruthfully. + +"I can hardly wonder," she continued, more sadly, "for it is only +what I have said to myself a thousand times. Sometimes I think +that I have lived in a dream, and one that few share with me. I +have questioned others, and never yet found a woman who did not +admit that her child was more to her, in her secret soul, than +her husband. What can they mean? Such a thought is foreign to my +very nature." + +"Why separate the two?" I asked. + +"I must separate them in thought," she answered, with the air of +one driven to bay by her own self-reproaching. "I had, like other +young girls, my dream of love and marriage. Unlike all the rest, +I believe, I found my visions fulfilled. The reality was more +than the imagination; and I thought it would be so with my love +for my child. The first cry of that baby told the difference to +my ear. I knew it all from that moment; the bliss which had been +mine as a wife would never be mine as a mother. If I had not +known what it was to adore my husband, I might have been content +with my love for Marian. But look at that exquisite creature as +she lies there asleep, and then think that I, her mother, should +desert her if she were dying, for aught I know, at one word from +him!" + +"Your feeling does not seem natural," I said, hardly knowing what +to answer. + +"What good does it serve to know that?" she said, defiantly. "I +say it to myself every day. Once when she was ill, and was given +back to me in all the precious helplessness of babyhood, there +was such a strange sweetness in it, I thought the charm might +remain; but it vanished when she could run about once more. And +she is such a healthy, self-reliant little thing," added Laura, +glancing toward the bed with a momentary look of motherly pride +that seemed strangely out of place amid these self-denunciations. +"I wish her to be so," she added. "The best service I can do for +her is to teach her to stand alone. And at some day," continued +the beautiful woman, her whole face lighting up with happiness, +"she may love as I have loved." + +"And your husband," I said, after a pause,--"does your feeling +represent his?" + +"My husband," she said, "lives for his genius, as he should. You +that know him, why do you ask?" + +"And his heart?" I said, half frightened at my own temerity. + +"Heart?" she answered. "He loves me." + +Her color mounted higher yet; she had a look of pride, almost of +haughtiness. All else seemed forgotten; she had turned away from +the child's little bed, as if it had no existence. It flashed +upon me that something of the poison of her artificial atmosphere +was reaching her already. + +Kenmure's step was heard in the hall, and, with fire in her eyes, +she hastened to meet him. I found myself actually breathing more +freely after the departure of that enchanting woman, in danger of +perishing inwardly, I said to myself, in an air too lavishly +perfumed. Bending over Marian, I wondered if it were indeed +possible that a perfectly healthy life had sprung from that union +too intense and too absorbed. Yet I had often noticed that the +child seemed to wear the temperaments of both her parents as a +kind of playful disguise, and to peep at you, now out of the one, +now from the other, showing that she had her own individual life +behind. + +As if by some infantine instinct, the darling turned in her +sleep, and came unconsciously nearer me. With a half-feeling of +self-reproach, I drew around my neck, inch by inch, the little +arms that tightened with a delicious thrill; and so I half +reclined there till I myself dozed, and the watchful Janet, +looking in, warned me away. Crossing the entry to my own chamber, +I heard Kenmure and Laura down stairs, but I knew that I should +be superfluous, and felt that I was sleepy. + +I had now, indeed, become always superfluous when they were +together, though never when they were apart. Even they must be +separated sometimes, and then each sought me, in order to +discourse about the other. Kenmure showed me every sketch he had +ever made of Laura. There she was, through all the range of her +beauty,--there she was in clay, in cameo, in pencil, in +water-color, in oils. He showed me also his poems, and, at last, +a longer one, for which pencil and graver had alike been laid +aside. All these he kept in a great cabinet she had brought with +her to their housekeeping; and it seemed to me that he also +treasured every flower she had dropped, every slender glove she +had worn, every ribbon from her hair. I could not wonder, seeing +his passion as it was. Who would not thrill at the touch of some +such slight memorial of Mary of Scotland, or of Heloise? and what +was all the regal beauty of the past to him? He found every room +adorned when she was in it, empty when she had gone,--save that +the trace of her was still left on everything, and all appeared +but as a garment she had worn. It seemed that even her great +mirror must retain, film over film, each reflection of her least +movement, the turning of her head, the ungloving of her hand. +Strange! that, with all this intoxicating presence, she yet led a +life so free from self, so simple, so absorbed, that all trace of +consciousness was excluded, and she was as free from vanity as +her own child. + +As we were once thus employed in the studio, I asked Kenmure, +abruptly, if he never shrank from the publicity he was thus +giving Laura. "Madame Recamier was not quite pleased," I said, +"that Canova had modelled her bust, even from imagination. Do you +never shrink from permitting irreverent eyes to look on Laura's +beauty? Think of men as you know them. Would you give each of +them her miniature, perhaps to go with them into scenes of riot +and shame?" + +"Would to Heaven I could!" said he, passionately. "What else +could save them, if that did not? God lets his sun shine on the +evil and on the good, but the evil need it most." + +There was a pause; and then I ventured to ask him a question that +had been many times upon my lips unspoken. + +"Does it never occur to you," I said, "that Laura cannot live on +earth forever?" + +"You cannot disturb me about that," he answered, not sadly, but +with a set, stern look, as if fencing for the hundredth time +against an antagonist who was foredoomed to be his master in the +end. "Laura will outlive me; she must outlive me. I am so sure of +it that, every time I come near her, I pray that I may not be +paralyzed, and die outside her arms. Yet, in any event, what can +I do but what I am doing,--devote my whole soul to the +perpetuation of her beauty? It is my only dream,--to re-create +her through art. What else is worth doing? It is for this I have +tried-through sculpture, through painting, through verse--to +depict her as she is. Thus far I have failed. Why have I failed? +Is it because I have not lived a life sufficiently absorbed in +her? or is it that there is no permitted way by which, after God +has reclaimed her, the tradition of her perfect loveliness may be +retained on earth?" + +The blinds of the piazza doorway opened, the sweet sea-air came +in, the low and level rays of yellow sunset entered as softly as +if the breeze were their chariot; and softer and stiller and +sweeter than light or air, little Marian stood on the threshold. +She had been in the fields with Janet, who had woven for her +breeze-blown hair a wreath of the wild gerardia blossoms, whose +purple beauty had reminded the good Scotchwoman of her own native +heather. In her arms the child bore, like a little gleaner, a +great sheaf of graceful golden-rod, as large as her grasp could +bear. In all the artist's visions he had seen nothing so aerial, +so lovely; in all his passionate portraitures of his idol, he had +delineated nothing so like to her. Marian's cheeks mantled with +rich and wine-like tints, her hair took a halo from the sunbeams, +her lips parted over the little, milk-white teeth; she looked at +us with her mother's eyes. I turned to Kenmure to see if he could +resist the influence. + +He scarcely gave her a glance. "Go, Marian," he said, not +impatiently,--for he was too thoroughly courteous ever to be +ungracious, even to a child,--but with a steady indifference that +cut me with more pain than if he had struck her. + +The sun dropped behind the horizon, the halo faded from the +shining hair and every ray of light from the childish face. There +came in its place that deep, wondering sadness which is more +touching than any maturer sorrow,--just as a child's illness +melts our hearts more than that of man or woman, it seems so +premature and so plaintive. She turned away; it was the very +first time I had ever seen the little face drawn down, or the +tears gathering in the eyes. By some kind providence, the mother, +coming in flushed and beautiful with walking, met Marian on the +piazza, and caught the little thing in her arms with unwonted +tenderness. It was enough for the elastic child. After one moment +of such bliss she could go to Janet, go anywhere; and when the +same graceful presence came in to us in the studio, we also could +ask no more. + +We had music and moonlight, and were happy. The atmosphere seemed +more human, less unreal. Going up stairs at last, I looked in at +the nursery, and found my pet rather flushed, and I fancied that +she stirred uneasily. It passed, whatever it was; for next +morning she came in to wake me, looking, as usual, as if a new +heaven and earth had been coined purposely for her since she went +to sleep. We had our usual long and important discourse,--this +time tending to protracted narrative, of the Mother-Goose +description,--until, if it had been possible for any human being +to be late for breakfast in that house, we should have been the +offenders. But she ultimately went downstairs on my shoulder, +and, as Kenmure and Laura were already out rowing, the baby put +me in her own place, sat in her mother's chair, and ruled me with +a rod of iron. How wonderful was the instinct by which this +little creature, who so seldom heard one word of parental +severity or parental fondness, knew so thoroughly the language of +both! Had I been the most depraved of children, or the most +angelic, I could not have been more sternly excluded from the +sugar-bowl, or more overwhelmed with compensating kisses. + +Later on that day, while little Marian was taking the very +profoundest nap that ever a baby was blessed with, (she had a +pretty way of dropping asleep in unexpected corners of the house, +like a kitten,) I somehow strayed into a confidential talk with +Janet about her mistress. I was rather troubled to find that all +her loyalty was for Laura, with nothing left for Kenmure, whom, +indeed, she seemed to regard as a sort of objectionable altar, on +which her darlings were being sacrificed. When she came to +particulars, certain stray fears of my own were confirmed. It +seemed that Laura's constitution was not fit, Janet averred, to +bear these irregular hours, early and late; and she plaintively +dwelt on the untasted oatmeal in the morning, the insufficient +luncheon, the precarious dinner, the excessive walking and +boating, the evening damps. There was coming to be a look about +Laura such as her mother had, who died at thirty. As for +Marian,--but here the complaint suddenly stopped; it would have +required far stronger provocation to extract from the faithful +soul one word that might seem to reflect on Marian's mother. + +Another year, and her forebodings had come true. It is needless +to dwell on the interval. Since then I have sometimes felt a +regret almost insatiable in the thought that I should have been +absent while all that gracious loveliness was fading and +dissolving like a cloud; and yet at other times it has appeared a +relief to think that Laura would ever remain to me in the fulness +of her beauty, not a tint faded, not a lineament changed. With +all my efforts, I arrived only in time to accompany Kenmure home +at night, after the funeral service. We paused at the door of the +empty house,--how empty! I hesitated, but Kenmure motioned to me +to follow him in. + +We passed through the hall and went up stairs. Janet met us at +the head of the stairway, and asked me if I would go in to look +at little Marian, who was sleeping. I begged Kenmure to go also +but he refused, almost savagely, and went on with heavy step into +Laura's deserted room. + +Almost the moment I entered the child's chamber, she waked up +suddenly, looked at me, and said, "I know you, you are my +friend." She never would call me her cousin, I was always her +friend. Then she sat up in bed, with her eyes wide open, and +said, as if stating a problem which had been put by for my +solution, "I should like to see my mother." + +How our hearts are rent by the unquestioning faith of children, +when they come to test the love that has so often worked what +seemed to them miracles,--and ask of it miracles indeed! I tried +to explain to her the continued existence of her mother, and she +listened to it as if her eyes drank in all that I could say, and +more. But the apparent distance between earth and heaven baffled +her baby mind, as it so often and so sadly baffles the thoughts +of us elders. I wondered what precise change seemed to her to +have taken place. This all-fascinating Laura, whom she adored, +and who had yet never been to her what other women are to their +darlings,--did heaven seem to put her farther off, or bring her +more near? I could never know. The healthy child had no morbid +questionings; and as she had come into the world to be a sunbeam, +she must not fail of that mission. She was kicking about the bed, +by this time, in her nightgown, and holding her pink little toes +in all sorts of difficult attitudes, when she suddenly said, +looking me full in the face: "If my mother was so high up that +she had her feet upon a star, do you think that I could see her?" + +This astronomical apotheosis startled me for a moment, but I said +unhesitatingly, "Yes," feeling sure that the lustrous eyes that +looked in mine could certainly see as far as Dante's, when +Beatrice was transferred from his side to the highest realm of +Paradise. I put my head beside hers upon the pillow, and stayed +till I thought she was asleep. + +I then followed Kenmure into Laura's chamber. It was dusk, but +the after-sunset glow still bathed the room with imperfect light, +and he lay upon the bed, his hands clenched over his eyes. + +There was a deep bow-window where Laura used to sit and watch us, +sometimes, when we put off in the boat. Her æolian harp was +in the casement, breaking its heart in music. A delicate +handkerchief was lodged between the cushions of the +window-seat,--the very handkerchief she used to wave, in summer +days long gone. The white boats went sailing beneath the evening +light, children shouted and splashed in the water, a song came +from a yacht, a steam-whistle shrilled from the receding steamer; +but she for whom alone those little signs of life had been dear +and precious would henceforth be as invisible to our eyes as if +time and space had never held her; and the young moon and the +evening star seemed but empty things unless they could pilot us +to some world where the splendor of her loveliness could match +their own. + +Twilight faded, evening darkened, and still Kenmure lay +motionless, until his strong form grew in my moody fancy to be +like some carving of Michel Angelo's, more than like a living +man. And when he at last startled me by speaking, it was with a +voice so far off and so strange, it might almost have come +wandering down from the century when Michel Angelo lived. + +"You are right," he said. "I have been living in a fruitless +dream. It has all vanished. The absurdity of speaking of creative +art! With all my life-long devotion, I have created nothing. I +have kept no memorial of her presence, nothing to perpetuate the +most beautiful of lives." + +Before I could answer, the door came softly open, and there stood +in the doorway a small white figure, holding aloft a lighted +taper of pure alabaster. It was Marian in her little night-dress, +with the loose blue wrapper trailing behind her, let go in the +effort to hold carefully the doll, Susan Halliday, robed also for +the night. + +"May I come in?" said the child. + +Kenmure was motionless at first: then, looking over his shoulder, +said merely, "What?" + +"Janet said," continued Marian, in her clear and methodical way, +"that my mother was up in heaven, and would help God hear my +prayers at any rate; but if I pleased, I could come and say them +by you." + +A shudder passed over Kenmure; then he turned away, and put his +hands over his eyes. She waited for no answer, but, putting down +the candlestick, in her wonted careful manner, upon a chair, she +began to climb upon the bed, lifting laboriously one little rosy +foot, then another, still dragging after her, with great effort, +the doll. Nestling at her father's breast, I saw her kneel. + +"Once my mother put her arm round me, when I said my prayers." +She made this remark, under her breath, less as a suggestion, it +seemed, than as the simple statement of a fact. + +Instantly I saw Kenmure's arm move, and grasp her with that +strong and gentle touch of his which I had so often noticed in +the studio,--a touch that seemed quiet as the approach of fate, +and equally resistless. I knew him well enough to understand that +iron adoption. + +He drew her toward him, her soft hair was on his breast, she +looked fearlessly into his eyes, and I could hear the little +prayer proceeding, yet in so low a whisper that I could not catch +one word. She was infinitely solemn at such times, the darling; +and there was always something in her low, clear tone, through +all her prayings and philosophizings, which was strangely like +her mother's voice. Sometimes she paused, as if to ask a +question, and at every answer I could see her father's arm +tighten. + +The moments passed, the voices grew lower yet, the candle +flickered and went out, the doll slid to the ground. Marian had +drifted away upon. a vaster ocean than that whose music lulled +her from without,--upon that sea whose waves are dreams. The +night was wearing on, the lights gleamed from the anchored +vessels, the water rippled serenely against the low sea-wall, the +breeze blew gently in. Marian's baby breathing grew deeper and +more tranquil; and as all the sorrows of the weary earth might be +imagined to exhale themselves in spring through the breath of +violets, so I prayed that it might be with Kenmure's burdened +heart, through hers. By degrees the strong man's deeper +respirations mingled with those of the child, and their two +separate beings seemed merged and solved into identity, as they +slumbered, breast to breast, beneath the golden and quiet stars. +I passed by without awaking them, and I knew that the artist had +attained his dream. + + + +IN A WHERRY. + +We have a phrase in Oldport, "What New-Yorkers call poverty: to +be reduced to a pony phaeton." In consequence of a November gale, +I am reduced To a similar state of destitution, from a sail-boat +to a wherry; and, like others of the deserving poor, I have found +many compensations in my humbler condition. Which is the more +enjoyable, rowing or sailing? If you sail before the wind, there +is the glorious vigor of the breeze that fills your sails; you +get all of it you have room for, and a ship of the line could do +no more; indeed, your very nearness to the water increases the +excitement, since the water swirls and boils up, as it unites in +your wake, and seems to clutch at the low stern of your +sail-boat, and to menace the hand that guides the helm. Or if you +beat to windward, it is as if your boat climbed a liquid hill, +but did it with bounding and dancing, like a child; there is the +plash of the lighter ripples against the bow, and the thud of the +heavier waves, while the same blue water is now transformed to a +cool jet of white foam over your face, and now to a dark +whirlpool in your lee. Sailing gives a sense of prompt command, +since by a single movement of the tiller you effect so great a +change of direction or transform motion into rest; there is, +therefore, a certain magic in it: but, on the other hand, there +is in rowing a more direct appeal to your physical powers; you do +not evade or cajole the elements by a cunning device of keel and +canvas, you meet them man-fashion and subdue them. The motion of +the oars is like the strong motion of a bird's wings; to sail a +boat is to ride upon an eagle, but to row is to be an eagle. I +prefer rowing,--at least till I can afford another sail-boat. + +What is a good day for rowing? Almost any day that is good for +living. Living is not quite agreeable in the midst of a tornado +or an equinoctial storm, neither is rowing. There are days when +rowing is as toilsome and exhausting a process as is Bunyan's +idea of virtue; while there are other days, like the present, +when it seems a mere Oriental passiveness and the forsaking of +works,--just an excuse to Nature for being out among her busy +things. For even at this stillest of hours there is far less +repose in Nature than we imagine. What created thing can seem +more patient than yonder kingfisher on the sea-wall? Yet, as we +glide near him, we shall see that no creature can be more full of +concentrated life; all his nervous system seems on edge, every +instant he is rising or lowering on his feet, the tail vibrates, +the neck protrudes or shrinks again, the feathers ruffle, the +crest dilates; he talks to himself with an impatient chirr, then +presently hovers and dives for a fish, then flies back +disappointed. We say "free as birds," but their lives are given +over to arduous labors. And so, when our condition seems most +dreamy, our observing faculties are sometimes desperately on the +alert, and we find afterwards, to our surprise, that we have +missed nothing. The best observer in the end is not he who works +at the microscope or telescope most unceasingly, but he whose +whole nature becomes sensitive and receptive, drinking in +everything, like a sponge that saturates itself with all floating +vapors and odors, though it seems inert and unsuspicious until +you press it and it tells the tale. + +Most men do their work out of doors and their dreaming at home; +and those whose work is done at home need something like a wherry +in which to dream out of doors. On a squally day, with the wind +northwest, it is a dream of action, and to round yonder point +against an ebbing tide makes you feel as if you were Grant before +Richmond; when you put about, you gallop like Sheridan, and the +winds and waves become a cavalry escort. On other days all +elements are hushed into a dream of peace, and you look out upon +those once stormy distances as Landseer's sheep look into the +mouth of the empty cannon on a dismantled fort. These are the +days for revery, and your thoughts fly forth, gliding without +friction over this smooth expanse; or, rather, they are like +yonder pair of white butterflies that will flutter for an hour +just above the glassy surface, traversing miles of distance +before they alight again. + +By a happy trait of our midsummer, these various phases of wind +and water may often be included in a single day. On three +mornings out of four the wind blows northwest down our bay, then +dies to a calm before noon. After an hour or two of perfect +stillness, you see the line of blue ripple coming up from the +ocean till it conquers all the paler water, and the southwest +breeze sets in. This middle zone of calm is like the noonday of +the Romans, when they feared to speak, lest the great god Pan +should be awakened. While it lasts, a thin, aerial veil drops +over the distant hills of Conanicut, then draws nearer and nearer +till it seems to touch your boat, the very nearest section of +space being filled with a faint disembodied blueness, like that +which fills on winter days, in colder regions, the hollows of the +snow. Sky and sea show but gradations of the same color, and +afford but modifications of the same element. In this quietness, +yonder schooner seems not so much to lie at anchor in the water +as to anchor the water, so that both cease to move; and though +faint ripples may come and go elsewhere on the surface, the +vessel rests in this liquid island of absolute calm. For there +certainly is elsewhere a sort of motionless movement, as Keats +speaks of "a little noiseless noise among the leaves," or as the +summer clouds form and disappear without apparent wind and +without prejudice to the stillness. A man may lie in the +profoundest trance and still be breathing, and the very +pulsations of the life of nature, in these calm hours, are to be +read in these changing tints and shadows and ripples, and in the +mirage-bewildered outlines of the islands in the bay. It is this +incessant shifting of relations, this perpetual substitution of +fantastic for real values, this inability to trust your own eye +or ear unless the mind makes its own corrections,--that gives +such an inexhaustible attraction to life beside the ocean. The +sea-change comes to you without your waiting to be drowned. You +must recognize the working of your own imagination and allow for +it. When, for instance, the sea-fog settles down around us at +nightfall, it sometimes grows denser and denser till it +apparently becomes more solid than the pavements of the town, or +than the great globe itself; and when the fog-whistles go wailing +on through all the darkened hours, they seem to be signalling not +so much for a lost ship as for a lost island. + +How unlike are those weird and gloomy nights to this sunny noon, +when I rest my oars in this sheltered bay, where a small lagoon +makes in behind Coaster's Harbor Island, and the very last breath +and murmur of the ocean are left outside! The coming tide steals +to the shore in waves so light they are a mere shade upon the +surface till they break, and then die speechless for one that has +a voice. And even those rare voices are the very most +confidential and silvery whispers in which Nature ever spoke to +man; the faintest summer insect seems resolute and assured beside +them; and yet it needs but an indefinite multiplication of these +sounds to make up the thunder of the surf. It is so still that I +can let the wherry drift idly along the shore, and can watch the +life beneath the water. The small fry cluster and evade between +me and the brink; the half-translucent shrimp glides gracefully +undisturbed, or glances away like a flash if you but touch the +surface; the crabs waddle or burrow, the smaller species +mimicking unconsciously the hue of the soft green sea-weed, and +the larger looking like motionless stones, covered with barnacles +and decked with fringing weeds. I am acquainted with no better +Darwinian than the crab; and however clumsy he may be when taken +from his own element, he has a free and floating motion which is +almost graceful in his own yielding and buoyant home. It is so +with all wild creatures, but especially with those of water and +air. A gull is not reckoned an especially graceful bird, but +yonder I see one, snowy white, that has come to fish in this safe +lagoon, and it dips and rises on its errands as lightly as a +butterfly or a swallow. Beneath that neighboring causeway the +water-rats run over the stones, lithe and eager and alert, the +body carried low, the head raised now and then like a hound's, +the tail curving gracefully and aiding the poise; now they are +running to the water as if to drink, now racing for dear life +along the edge, now fairly swimming, then devoting an interval to +reflection, like squirrels, then again searching over a pile of +sea-weed and selecting some especial tuft, which is carried, with +long, sinuous leaps, to the unseen nest. Indeed, man himself is +graceful in his unconscious and direct employments: the poise of +a fisherman, for instance, the play of his arm, the cast of his +line or net,--these take the eye as do the stealthy movements of +the hunter, the fine attitudes of the wood-chopper, the grasp of +the sailor on the helm. A haystack and a boat are always +picturesque objects, and so are the men who are at work to build +or use them. So is yonder stake-net, glistening in the noonday +light,--the innumerable meshes drooping in soft arches from the +high stakes, and the line of floats stretching shoreward, like +tiny stepping-stones; two or three row-boats are gathered round +it, with fishermen in red or blue shirts, while one white +sail-boat hovers near. And I have looked down on our beach in +spring, at sunset, and watched them drawing nets for the young +herring, when the rough men looked as graceful as the nets they +drew, and the horseman who directed might have been Redgauntlet +on the Solway Sands. + +I suppose it is from this look of natural fitness that a windmill +is always such an appropriate object by the sea-shore. It is +simply a four-masted schooner, stranded on a hill-top, and +adapting itself to a new sphere of duty. It can have needed but a +slight stretch of invention in some seaman to combine these lofty +vans, and throw over them a few remodelled sails. The principle +of their motion is that by which a vessel beats to windward; the +miller spreads or reefs his sails, like a sailor,--reducing them +in a high wind to a mere "pigeon-wing" as it is called, two or +three feet in length, or in some cases even scudding under bare +poles. The whole structure vibrates and creaks under rapid +motion, like a mast; and the angry vans, disappointed of +progress, are ready to grind to powder all that comes within +their grasp, as they revolve hopelessly in this sea of air. + +When the sun grows hot, I like to take refuge in a sheltered nook +beside Goat Island Lighthouse, where the wharf shades me, and the +resonant plash of waters multiplies itself among the dark piles, +increasing the delicious sense of coolness. While the noonday +bells ring twelve, I take my rest. Round the corner of the pier +the fishing-boats come gliding in, generally with a boy asleep +forward, and a weary man at the helm; one can almost fancy that +the boat itself looks weary, having been out since the early +summer sunrise. In contrast to this expression of labor ended, +the white pleasure-boats seem but to be taking a careless stroll +by water; while a skiff full of girls drifts idly along the +shore, amid laughter and screaming and much aimless splash. More +resolute and business-like, the boys row their boat far up the +bay; then I see a sudden gleam of white bodies, and then the boat +is empty, and the surrounding water is sprinkled with black and +bobbing heads. The steamboats look busier yet, as they go puffing +by at short intervals, and send long waves up to my retreat; and +then some schooner sails in, full of life, with a white ripple +round her bows, till she suddenly rounds to drops anchor, and is +still. Opposite me, on the landward side of the bay, the green +banks slope to the water; on yonder cool piazza there is a young +mother who swings her baby in the hammock, or a white-robed +figure pacing beneath the trailing vines. Peace and lotus-eating +on shore; on the water, even in the stillest noon, there are life +and sparkle and continual change. + +One of those fishermen whose boats have just glided to their +moorings is to me a far more interesting person than any of his +mates, though he is perhaps the only one among them with whom I +have never yet exchanged a word. There is good reason for it; he +has been deaf and dumb since boyhood. He is reported to be the +boldest sailor among all these daring men; he is the last to +retreat before the coming storm; the first after the storm to +venture through the white and whirling channels, between +dangerous ledges, to which others give a wider berth. I do not +wonder at this, for think how much of the awe and terror of the +tempest must vanish if the ears be closed! The ominous undertone +of the waves on the beach and the muttering thunder pass harmless +by him. How infinitely strange it must be to have the sight of +danger, but not the sound! Fancy such a deprivation in war, for +instance, where it is the sounds, after all, that haunt the +memory the longest; the rifle's crack, the irregular shots of +skirmishers, the long roll of alarm, the roar of great guns. This +man would have missed them all. Were a broadside from an enemy's +gunboat to be discharged above his head, he would not hear it; he +would only recognize, by some jarring of his other senses, the +fierce concussion of the air. + +How much deeper seems his solitude than that of any other "lone +fisher on the lonely sea"! Yet all such things are comparative; +and while the others contrast that wave-tossed isolation with the +cheeriness of home, his home is silent too. He has a wife and +children; they all speak, but he hears not their prattle or their +complaints. He summons them with his fingers, as he summons the +fishes, and they are equally dumb to him. Has he a special +sympathy with those submerged and voiceless things? Dunfish, in +the old newspapers, were often called "dumb'd fish"; and they +perchance come to him as to one of their kindred. They may have +learned, like other innocent things, to accept this defect of +utterance, and even imitate it. I knew a deaf-and-dumb woman +whose children spoke and heard; but while yet too young for +words, they had learned that their mother was not to be reached +in that way; they never cried or complained before her, and when +most excited would only whisper. Her baby ten months old, if +disturbed in the night, would creep to her and touch her lips, to +awaken her, but would make no noise. + +One might fancy that all men who have an agonizing sorrow or a +fearful secret would be drawn by irresistible attraction into the +society of the deaf and dumb. What awful passions might not be +whispered, what terror safely spoken, in the charmed circle round +yonder silent boat,--a circle whose centre is a human life which +has not all the susceptibilities of life, a confessional where +even the priest cannot hear! Would it not relieve sorrow to +express itself, even if unheeded? What more could one ask than a +dumb confidant? and if deaf also, so much the safer. To be sure, +he would give you neither absolution nor guidance; he could +render nothing in return, save a look or a clasp of the hand; nor +can the most gifted or eloquent friendship do much more. Ah! but +suddenly the thought occurs, suppose that the defect of hearing, +as of tongue, were liable to be loosed by an overmastering +emotion, and that by startling him with your hoarded confidence +you were to break the spell! The hint is too perilous; let us row +away. + +A few strokes take us to the half-submerged wreck of a +lime-schooner that was cut to the water's edge, by a collision in +a gale, twelve months ago. The water kindled the lime, the cable +was cut, the vessel drifted ashore and sunk, still blazing, at +this little beach. When I saw her, at sunset, the masts had been +cut away, and the flames held possession on board. Fire was +working away in the cabin, like a live thing, and sometimes +glared out of the hatchway; anon it clambered along the gunwale, +like a school-boy playing, and the waves chased it as in play; +just a flicker of flame, then a wave would reach up to overtake +it; then the flames would be, or seem to be, where the water had +been; and finally, as the vessel lay careened, the waves took +undisturbed possession of the lower gunwale, and the flames of +the upper. So it burned that day and night; part red with fire, +part black with soaking; and now twelve months have made all its +visible parts look dry and white, till it is hard to believe that +either fire or water has ever touched it. It lies over on its +bare knees, and a single knee, torn from the others, rests +imploringly on the shore, as if that had worked its way to land, +and perished in act of thanksgiving. At low tide, one half the +frame is lifted high in air, like a dead tree in the forest. + +Perhaps all other elements are tenderer in their dealings with +what is intrusted to them than is the air. Fire, at least, +destroys what it has ruined; earth is warm and loving, and it +moreover conceals; water is at least caressing,--it laps the +greater part of this wreck with protecting waves, covers with +sea-weeds all that it can reach, and protects with incrusting +shells. Even beyond its grasp it tosses soft pendants of moss +that twine like vine-tendrils, or sway in the wind. It mellows +harsh colors into beauty, and Ruskin grows eloquent over the +wave-washed tint of some tarry, weather-beaten boat. But air is +pitiless: it dries and stiffens all outline, and bleaches all +color away, so that you can hardly tell whether these ribs +belonged to a ship or an elephant; and yet there is a certain +cold purity in the shapes it leaves, and the birds it sends to +perch upon these timbers are a more graceful company than +lobsters or fishes. After all, there is something sublime in that +sepulture of the Parsees, who erect near every village a dokhma, +or Tower of Silence, upon whose summit they may bury their dead +in air. + +Thus widely may one's thoughts wander from a summer boat. But the +season for rowing is a long one, and far outlasts in Oldport the +stay of our annual guests. Sometimes in autumnal mornings I glide +forth over water so still, it seems as if saturated by the +Indian-summer with its own indefinable calm. The distant islands +lift themselves on white pedestals of mirage; the cloud-shadows +rest softly on Conanicut; and what seems a similar shadow on the +nearer slopes of Fort Adams is in truth but a mounted battery, +drilling, which soon moves and slides across the hazy hill like a +cloud. + +I hear across nearly a mile of water the faint, Sharp orders and +the sonorous blare of the trumpet That follows each command; the +horsemen gallop and wheel; suddenly the band within the fort +strikes up for guard-mounting, and I have but to shut my eyes to +be carried back to warlike days that passed by,--was it centuries +ago? Meantime, I float gradually towards Brenton's Cove; the +lawns that reach to the water's edge were never so gorgeously +green in any summer, and the departure of the transient guests +gives to these lovely places an air of cool seclusion; when +fashion quits them, the imagination is ready to move in. An +agreeable sense of universal ownership comes over the +winter-staying mind in Oldport. I like to keep up this little +semblance of habitation on the part of our human birds of +passage; it is very pleasant to me, and perhaps even pleasanter +to them, that they should call these emerald slopes their own for +a month or two; but when they lock the doors in autumn, the ideal +key reverts into my hands, and it is evident that they have only +been "tenants by the courtesy," in the fine legal phrase. +Provided they stay here long enough to attend to their lawns and +pay their taxes, I am better satisfied than if these estates were +left to me the whole year round. + +The tide takes the boat nearer to the fort; the horsemen ride +more conspicuously, with swords and trappings that glisten in the +sunlight, while the white fetlocks of the horses twinkle in +unison as they move. One troop-horse without a rider wheels and +gallops with the rest, and seems to revel in the free motion. +Here also the tide reaches or seems to reach the very edge of the +turf; and when the light battery gallops this way, it is as if it +were charging on my floating fortress. Upon the other side is a +scene of peace; and a fisherman sings in his boat as he examines +the floats of his stake-net, hand over hand. A white gull hovers +close above him, and a dark one above the horsemen, fit emblems +of peace and war. The slightest sounds, the rattle of an oar, the +striking of a hoof against a stone, are borne over the water to +an amazing distance, as if the calm bay amid its seeming quiet, +were watchful of the slightest noise. But look! in a moment the +surface is rippled, the sky is clouded, a swift change comes over +the fitful mood of the season; the water looks colder and deeper, +the greensward assumes a chilly darkness, the troopers gallop +away to their stables, and the fisherman rows home. That +indefinable expression which separates autumn from summer creeps +almost in an instant over all. Soon, even upon this Isle of +Peace, it will be winter. + +Each season, as winter returns, I try in vain to comprehend this +wonderful shifting of expression that touches even a thing so +essentially unchanging as the sea. How delicious to all the +senses is the summer foam above yonder rock; in winter the foam +is the same, the sparkle as radiant, the hue of the water +scarcely altered; and yet the effect is, by comparison, cold, +heavy, and leaden. It is like that mysterious variation which +chiefly makes the difference between one human face and another; +we call it by vague names, and cannot tell in what it lies; we +only know that when expression changes, all is gone. No warmth of +color, no perfection of outline can supersede those subtile +influences which make one face so winning that all human +affection gravitates to its spell, and another so cold or +repellent that it dwells forever in loneliness, and no passionate +heart draws near. I can fancy the ocean beating in vague despair +against its shores in winter, and moaning, "I am as beautiful, as +restless, as untamable as ever: why are my cliffs left desolate? +why am I not loved as I was loved in summer?" + + + +MADAM DELIA'S EXPECTATIONS. + +Madam Delia sat at the door of her show-tent, which, as she +discovered too late, had been pitched on the wrong side of the +Parade. It was"Election day" in Oldport, and there must have been +a thousand people in the public square; there were really more +than the four policemen on duty could properly attend to, so that +half of them had leisure to step into Madam Delia's tent, and see +little Gerty and the rattlesnakes. It was past the appointed +hour; but the exhibition had never yet been known to open for +less than ten spectators, and even the addition of the policemen +only made eight. So the mistress of the show sat in resolute +expectation, a little defiant of the human race. It was her +thirteenth annual tour, and she knew mankind. + +Surely there were people enough; surely they had money enough; +surely they were easily pleased. They gathered in crowds to hear +crazy Mrs. Green denouncing the city government for sending her +to the poorhouse in a wagon instead of a carriage. They thronged +to inspect the load of hay that was drawn by the two horses whose +harness had been cut to pieces, and then repaired by Denison's +Eureka Cement. They all bought whips with that unfailing +readiness which marks a rural crowd; they bought packages of +lead-pencils with a dollar so skilfully distributed through every +six parcels that the oldest purchaser had never found more than +ten cents in his. They let the man who cured neuralgia rub his +magic curative on their foreheads, and allowed the man who +cleaned watch-chains to dip theirs in the purifying powder. They +twirled the magic arrow, which never by any chance rested at the +corner compartments where the gold watches and the heavy +bracelets were piled, but perpetually recurred to the side +stations, and indicated only a beggarly prize of india-rubber +sleeve-buttons. They bought ten cents' worth of jewelry, +obtaining a mingled treasure of two breast-pins, a plain gold +ring, an enamelled ring, and "a piece of California gold." But +still no added prizes in the human lottery fell to the show-tent +of Madam Delia. + +As time went on and the day grew warmer, the crowd grew visibly +less enterprising, and business flagged. The man with the +lifting-machine pulled at the handles himself, a gratuitous +exhibition before a circle of boys now penniless. The man with +the metallic polish dipped and redipped his own watch-chain. The +men at the booths sat down to lunch upon the least presentable of +their own pies. The proprietor of the magic arrow, who had +already two large breastpins on his dirty shirt, selected from +his own board another to grace his coat-collar, as if thereby to +summon back the waning fortunes of the day. But Madam Delia still +sat at her post, undaunted. She kept her eye on two sauntering +militia-men in uniform, but they only read her sign and seated +themselves on the curbstone, to smoke. Then a stout black soldier +came in sight; but he turned and sat down at a table to eat +oysters, served by a vast and smiling matron of his own race. But +even this, though perhaps the most wholly cheerful exhibition +that the day yielded, had no charms for Madam Delia. Her own +dinner was ordered at the tavern after the morning show; and +where is the human being who does not resent the spectacle of +another human being who dines earlier than himself? + +It grew warmer, so warm that the canvas walls of the tent seemed +to grasp a certain armful of heat and keep it inexorably in; so +warm that the out-of-door man was dozing as he leaned against the +tent-stake, and only recovered himself at the sound of Madam +Delia's penetrating voice, and again began to summon people in, +though there was nobody within hearing. It was so warm that Mr. +De Marsan, born Bangs, the wedded husband of Madam Delia, dozed +as he walked up and down the sidewalk, and had hardly voice +enough to testify, as an unconcerned spectator, to the value of +the show. Only the unwearied zeal of the showwoman defied alike +thermometer and neglect, She kept her eye on everything,--on Old +Bill as he fed the monkeys within, on Monsieur Comstock as he +hung the trapeze for the performance, on the little girls as they +tried to peddle their songs, on the sleepy out-of-door man, and +on the people who did not draw near. If she could, she would have +played all the parts in her own small company, and would have put +the inexhaustible nervous energies of her own New England nature +(she was born at Meddibemps, State of Maine) into all. Apart from +this potent stimulus, not a soul in the establishment, save +little Gerty, possessed any energy whatever. Old Bill had +unfortunately never learned total abstinence from the wild +animals among which he had passed his life; Monsieur Comstock's +brains had chiefly run into his arms and legs; and Mr. De Marsan, +the nominal head of the establishment, was a peaceful +Pennsylvanian, who was wont to move as slowly as if he were one +of those processions that take a certain number of hours to pass +a given point. This Madam Delia understood and expected; he was +an innocent who was to be fed, clothed, and directed; but his +languor was no excuse for the manifest feebleness of the +out-of-door man. "That man don't know how to talk no more 'n +nothin' at all," said Madam Delia reproachfully, to the large +policeman who stood by her. "He never speaks up bold to nobody. +Why don't he tell 'em what's inside the tent? I don't want him to +say no more 'n the truth, but he might tell that. Tell 'em about +Gerty, you nincum! Tell 'em about the snakes. Tell 'em what +Comstock is. 'T ain't the real original Comstock" (this to the +policeman), "it's only another that used to perform with him in +Comstock Brothers. This one can't swaller, so we leave out the +knives." + +"Where's t' other?" said the sententious policeman, whose ears +were always open for suspicious disappearances. + +"Didn't you hear?" cried the incredulous lady. "Scattered! Gone! +Went off one day with a box of snakes and two monkeys. Come, now, +you must have heard. We had a sight of trouble pay-in' +detectives." + +"What for a looking fellow was he?" said the policeman. + +"Dark complected," was the reply. "Black mustache. He understood +his business, I tell you now. Swallered five or six knives to +onst, and give good satisfaction to any audience. It was him that +brought us Gerty and Anne,--that's the other little girl. I +didn't know as they was his children, and didn't know as they +was, but one day he said he got 'em from an old woman in New +York, and that was all he knew." + +"They're smart," said the man, whom Gerty had just coaxed into +paying three cents instead of two for Number Six of the "Singer's +Journal,"--a dingy little sheet, containing a song about a fat +policeman, which she had brought to his notice. + +"You'd better believe it,"said Madam Delia, proudly. "At least +Gerty is; Anne ain't. I tell 'em, Gerty knows enough for both. +Anne don't know nothin', and what she does know she don't know +sartin. All she can do is just to hang on: she's the strongest +and she does the heavy business on the trapeze and parallel +bars." + +"Is Gerty good on that?" said the public guardian. + +"I tell you," said the head of the establishment.--"Go and dress, +children! Five minutes!" + +All this time Madam Delia had been taking occasional fees from +the tardy audience, had been making change, detecting counterfeit +currency, and discerning at a glance the impostures of one +deceitful boy who claimed to have gone out on a check and lost +it. At last Stephen Blake and his little sister entered, and the +house was regarded as full. These two revellers had drained deep +the cup of "Election-day" excitement. They had twirled all the +arrows, bought all the jewelry, inspected all the colored eggs, +blown at all the spirometers, and tasted all the egg-pop which +the festal day required. These delights exhausted, they looked +round for other worlds to conquer, saw Madam Delia at her +tent-door, and were conquered by her. + +She did, indeed, look energetic and comely as she sat at the +receipt of custom, her smooth black hair relieved by gold +ear-rings, her cotton velvet sack by a white collar, and her dark +gingham dress by a cheap breastpin and by linen cuffs not very +much soiled. The black leather bag at her side had a well-to-do +look; but all else in the establishment looked a little +poverty-stricken. The tent was made of very worn and soiled +canvas, and was but some twenty-five feet square. There were no +seats, and the spectators sat on the grass. There was a very +small stage raised some six feet; this was covered with some +strips of old carpet, and surrounded by a few old and tattered +curtains. Through their holes you could easily see the lithe +brown shoulders of the little girls as they put on their +professional suits; and, on the other side, Monsieur Comstock, +scarcely hidden by the drapery, leaned against a cross-bar, and +rested his chin upon his tattooed arms as he counted the +spectators. Among these, Mr. De Marsan, pacing slowly,distributed +copies of this programme:-- + THIRTEENTH ANNUAL TOUR. +---- + MADAM DELIA'S MUSEUM AND VARIETY COMBINATION-WILL +EXHIBIT. +---- PROCLAMATION TO THE PUBLIC.--The Proprietors would say that +they have abandoned the old and played-out practice of decorating +the outer walls of all principal streets with flaming Posters and +Handbills, and have adopted the congenial, and they trust +successful, plan of advertising with Programmes, giving a full +and accurate description as now organized, which will be +distributed in Hotels, Saloons, Factories, Workshops, and all +private dwellings,by their Special Agents, three days before the +exhibition takes place. +---- + MADAM DELIA WITH HER + PET SNAKES. + MISS GERTY, + THE CHILD WONDER, + DANSEUSE AND CONTORTIONIST, + +will appear in her wonderful feats at each performance. + MONS. COMSTOCK, + THE CHAMPION SWORD-SWALLOWER, + +will also exhibit his wonderful power of swallowing Five Swords, +measuring from 14 to 22 inches in length. + It is not so much the beauty of this feat + that makes it so remarkable, as its seeming + impossibility. +---- + MASTER BOBBY, + THE BANJO SOLOIST AND BURLESQUE. +---- + COMIC ACROBAT, + BY MISS GERTY AND MONS. COMSTOCK. +---- + MADAM DELIA, + THE WONDERFUL AND ORIGINAL SNAKE-TAMER, with her Pets, measuring +12 feet in length and weighing 50 lbs. + A pet Rattlesnake, 15 years of age, captured + on the Prairies of Illinois,-- + oldest on exhibition. +---- + In connection with this Exhibition there are + ANT-EATERS, AFRICAN MONKEYS, &C. + Cosmoramic Stereoscopic Scenes in the United States and +other Countries, including a view of + the Funeral Procession of President Taylor, + which is alone worth the price + of admission. +---- + Exhibition every half-hour, during day and evening. + Secure your seats early! +---- + ADMISSION 20 CENTS. Particular care will be taken and +nothing shall occur to offend the most fastidious. + +Stephen and his little sister strolled about the tent meanwhile. +The final preparations went slowly on. The few spectators teased +the ant-eater in one corner, or the first violin in another. One +or two young farmers' boys were a little uproarious with egg-pop, +and danced awkward breakdowns at the end of the tent. Then a +cracked bell sounded and the curtain rose, showing hardly more of +the stage than was plainly visible before. + +Little Gerty, aged ten, came in first, all rumpled gauze and +tarnished spangles, to sing. In a poor little voice, feebler and +shriller than the chattering of the monkeys, she sang a song +about the "Grecian Bend," and enacted the same, walking round and +round the stage whirling her tawdry finery. Then Anne, aged +twelve, came in as a boy and joined her. Both the girls had +rather pretty features, blue eyes, and tightly curling hair; both +had pleasing faces; but Anne was solid and phlegmatic, while +Gerty was keen and flexible as a weasel, and almost as thin. +Presently Anne went out and reappeared as "Master Bobby" of the +hills, making love to Gerty in that capacity, through song and +dance. Then Gerty was transformed by the addition of a single +scarf into a "Highland Maid," and danced a fling; this quite +gracefully, to the music of two violins. Exeunt the children and +enter "Madam Delia and her pets." + +The show-woman had laid aside her velvet sack and appeared with +bare neck and arms. Over her shoulders hung a rattlesnake fifteen +feet long, while a smaller specimen curled from each hand. The +reptiles put their cold, triangular faces against hers, they +touched her lips, they squirmed around her; she tied their tails +together in elastic knots that soon undid; they reared their +heads above her black locks till she looked like a stage Medusa, +then laid themselves lovingly on her shoulder, and hissed at the +audience. Then she lay down on the stage and pillowed her head on +the writhing mass. She opened her black bag and took out a tiny +brown snake which she placidly transferred to her bosom; then +turned to a barrel into which she plunged her arm and drew out a +black, hissing coil of mingled heads and tails. Her keen, +goodnatured face looked cheerfully at the audience through it +all, and took away the feeling of disgust, and something of the +excitement of fear. + +The lady and the pets retiring, Gerty's hour of glory came. She +hated singing and only half enjoyed character dancing, but in +posturing she was in her glory. Dressed in soiled tights that +showed every movement of her little body, she threw herself upon +the stage with a hand-spring, then kissed her hand to the +audience, and followed this by a back-somerset. Then she touched +her head by anslow effort to her heels; then turned away, put her +palms to the ground, raised her heels gradually in the air, and +in this inverted position kissed first one hand, then the other, +to the spectators. Then she crossed the stage in a series of +somersets, then rolled back like a wheel; then held a hoop in her +two hands and put her whole slender body through it, limb after +limb. Then appeared Monsieur Comstock. He threw a hand-spring and +gave her his feet to stand upon; she grasped them with her hands +and inverted herself, her feet pointing skyward. Then he resumed +the ordinary attitude of rational beings and she lay on her back +across his uplifted palms, which supported her neck and feet; +then she curled herself backward around his waist, almost +touching head and heels. Indeed, whatever the snakes had done to +Madam Delia, Gerty seemed possessed with a wish to do to Monsieur +Comstock, all but the kissing. Then that eminent foreigner +vanished, and the odors of his pipe came faintly through the +tattered curtain, while Anne entered to help Gerty in the higher +branches. + +A double trapeze--just two horizontal bars suspended at different +heights by ropes and straps--had been swung from the tent-roof. +Gerty ascended to the upper bar, hung from it by her hand, then +by her knees, then by her feet, then sat upon it, leaned slowly +backward, suddenly dropped, and as some children in the audience +shrieked in terror, she caught by her feet in the side-ropes and +came up smiling. It was a part of the play. Then another trapeze +was hung, and was set swinging toward the first, and Gerty flung +herself in triumph, with varied somersets, from one to the other, +while Anne rattled the banjo below and sang, + "I fly through the air with the greatest of ease, + A daring young man on the flying trapeeze." + +Then the child stopped to rest, while all hands were clapped and +only the unreverberating turf kept the feet from echoing also. +People flocked in from outside, and Madam Delia was kept busy at +the door. Then Gerty came down to the lower bar, while Anne +ascended the upper, and hung to it solidly by her knees. Thus +suspended, she put out her hands to Gerty, who put her feet into +them, and hung head-downward. There was a shuddering pause, while +the two children clung thus dizzily, but the audience had seen +enough of peril to lose all fear. + +"Those straps are safe?" asked Stephen of Mr. De Marsan. + +"Law bless you, yes," replied that pleasant functionary. +"Comstock's been on 'em," + +Precisely as he spoke one of the straps gave downward a little, +and then rested firm; it was not a half-inch, but it jarred the +performers. + +"Gerty, I'm slipping," cried Anne. "We shall fall!" + +"No, we sha'n't, silly," said the other, quickly. "Hold on. +Comstock, swing me the rope." + +Stephen Blake sprang to the stage and swung her the rope by which +they had climbed to the upper bar. It fell short and Gerty missed +it. Anne screamed, and slipped visibly. + +"You can't hold," said Gerty. "Let go my feet. Let me drop." + +"You'll be killed," called Anne, slipping still more. + +"Drop me, I say!" shouted the resolute Gerty, while the whole +audience rose in excitement. Instantly the hands of the elder +girl opened and down fell Gerty, headforemost, full twelve feet, +striking heavily on her shoulder, while Anne, relieved of the +weight, recovered easily her position and slipped down into +Stephen's arms. She threw herself down beside the little comrade +whose presence of mind had saved at least one of them. + +"O Gerty, are you killed?" she said. + +"I want Delia," gasped the child. + +Madam Delia was at her side already, having rushed from the door, +where a surging host of boys had already swept in gratis. Gerty +writhed in pain. Stephen felt her collar-bone and found it bent +like a horseshoe; and she fainted before she could be taken from +the stage. + +When restored, she was quite exhausted, and lay for days +perfectly subdued and gentle, sleeping most of the time. During +these days she had many visitors, and Mr. De Marsan had ample +opportunity for the simple enjoyments of his life, tobacco and +conversation. Stephen Blake and his sister came often, and while +she brought her small treasures to amuse Gerty, he freely pumped +the proprietor. Madam Delia had been in the snake business, it +appeared, since early youth, thirteen years ago. She had been in +De Marsan's employ for eight years before her marriage, and his +equal and lawful partner for five years since. At first they had +travelled as side-show to a circus, but that was not so good. + +"The way is, you see," said Mr. De Marsan, "to take a place like +Providence, that's a good showtown, right along, and pitch your +tent and live there. Keep-still pays, they say. You'd have to +hire a piece of ground anywhere, for five or six dollars a day, +and it don't cost much more by the week. You can board for four +or five dollars a week, but if you board by the day it's a dollar +and a half." To which words of practical wisdom Stephen listened +with pleased interest. It was not so very many years since he had +been young enough to wish to run away with a circus; and by +encouraging these simple confidences, he brought round the +conversation to the children. + +But here he was met by a sheer absence of all information as to +their antecedents. The original and deceitful Comstock had +brought them and left them two years before. Madam Delia had +received flattering offers to take her snakes and Gerty into +circuses and large museums, but she had refused for the child's +own sake. Did Gerty like it? Yes, she would like to be posturing +all day; she could do anything she saw done; she "never needed to +be taught nothin'," as Mr. De Marsan asserted with vigorous +accumulation of negatives. He thought her father or mother must +have been in the business, she took to it so easily; but she was +just as smart at school in the winter, and at everything else. +Was the life good for her? Yes, why not? Rough company and bad +language? They could hear worse talk every day in the street. +"Sometimes a feller would come in with too much liquor aboard," +the showman admitted, "and would begin to talk his nonsense; but +Comstock wouldn't ask nothin' better than to pitch such a feller +out, especially if he should sarce the little gals. They were +good little gals, and Delia set store by 'em." + +When Stephen and his sister went back that night to their kind +hostesses, Miss Martha and Miss Amy, the soft hearts of those +dear old ladies were melted in an instant by the story of Gerty's +courage and self-sacrifice. They had lived peacefully all their +lives in that motherly old house by the bay-side, where +successive generations had lived before them. The painted tiles +around the open fire looked as if their fops and fine ladies had +stepped out of the Spectator and the Tatler; the great mahogany +chairs looked as hospitable as when the French officers were +quartered in the house during the Revolution, and its Quaker +owner, Miss Martha's grand-uncle, had carried out a seat that the +weary sentinel might sit down. Descended from one of those +families of Quaker beauties whom De Lauzun celebrated, they bore +the memory of those romantic lives, as something very sacred, in +hearts which perhaps held as genuine romances of their own. Miss +Martha's sweet face was softened by advancing deafness and by +that gentle, appealing look which comes when mind and memory grow +a little dimmer, though the loving nature knows no change. +"Sister Amy says," she meekly confessed, "that I am losing my +memory. But I do not care very much. There are so few things +worth remembering!" + +They kept house together in sweet accord, and were indeed trained +in the neat Quaker ways so thoroughly, that they always worked by +the same methods. In opinion and emotion they were almost +duplicates. Yet the world holds no absolute and perfect +correspondence, and it is useless to affect to conceal--what was +apparent to any intimate guest--that there was one domestic +question on which perfect sympathy was wanting. During their +whole lives they had never been able to take precisely the same +view of the best method of grinding Indian meal. Miss Martha +preferred to have it from a wind-mill; while Miss Amy was too +conscientious to deny that she thought it better when prepared by +a water-mill. She said firmly, though gently, that it seemed to +her "less gritty." + +Living their whole lives in this scarcely broken harmony by the +margin of the bay, they had long built together one castle in the +air. They had talked of it for many an hour by their evening +fire, and they had looked from their chamber windows toward the +Red Light upon Rose Island to see if it were coming true. This +vision was, that they were to awake some morning after an +autumnal storm, and to find an unknown vessel ashore behind the +house, without name or crew or passengers; only there was to be +one sleeping child, with aristocratic features and a few yards of +exquisite embroidery. Years had passed, and their lives were +waning, without a glimpse of that precious waif of gentle blood. +Once in an October night Miss Martha had been awakened by a +crash, and looking out had seen that their pier had been carried +away, and that a dark vessel lay stranded with her bowsprit in +the kitchen window. But daylight revealed the schooner Polly +Lawton, with a cargo of coal, and the dream remained unfulfilled. +They had never revealed it, except to each other. + +Moved by a natural sympathy, Miss Martha went with Stephen to see +the injured child. Gerty lay asleep on a rather dingy little +mattress, with Mr. Comstock's overcoat rolled beneath her head. A +day's illness will commonly make even the coarsest child look +refined and interesting; and Gerty's physical organization was +anything but coarse. Her pretty hair curled softly round her +head; her delicate profile was relieved against the rough, dark +pillow; and the tips of her little pink ears could not have been +improved by art, though they might have been by soap and water. +Warm tears came into Miss Martha's eyes, which were quickly +followed from corresponding fountains in Madam Delia's. + +"Thy own child?" said or rather signalled Miss Martha, forming +the letters softly with her lips. Stephen had his own reasons for +leaving her to ask this question in all ignorance. + +"No, ma'am," said the show-woman. "Not much. Adopted." + +"Does thee know her parents?" This was similarly signalled. + +"No," said Madam Delia, rather coldly. + +"Does thee suppose that they were--" + +And here Miss Martha stopped, and the color came as suddenly and +warmly to her cheeks as if Monsieur Comstock had offered to marry +her, and to settle upon her the snakes as exclusive property. +Madam Delia divined the question; she had so often found herself +trying to guess the social position of Gerty's parents. + +"I don't know as I know," said she, slowly, "whether you ought to +know anythin' about it. But I'll tell you what I know. That +child's folks," she added, mysteriously, "lived on Quality Hill." + +"Lived where?" said Miss Martha, breathless. + +"Upper crust," said the other, defining her symbol still further. +"No middlins to 'em. Genteel as anybody. Just look here!" + +Madam Delia unclasped her leather bag, brought forth from it a +mass of checks and tickets, some bird-seed, a small whip, a +dog-collar, and a dingy morocco box. This held a piece of an +old-fashioned enamelled ring, and a fragment of embroidered +muslin marked "A." + +"She'd lived with me six months before she brought 'em," said the +show-woman, whispering. + +The bit of handkerchief was enough. Was it a dream? thought the +dear old lady. What the ocean had refused, was this sprite who +had lived between earth and air to fulfil? Miss Martha bent +softly over the bedside, resting her clean glove on the only +dirty mattress it had ever touched, and quietly kissed the child. +Then she looked up with a radiant face of perfect resolution. + +"Mrs. De Marsan," said she, with dignity that was almost +solemnity, "I wish to adopt this child. No one can doubt thy +kindness of heart, but thee must see that thee is in no condition +to give her suitable care and Christian nurture." + +"That's a fact," interposed Madam Delia with a pang + +"Then thee will give her to me?" asked Miss Martha, firmly. + +Madam Delia threw her apron over her face, and choked and sobbed +beneath it for several minutes. Then reappearing, "It's what I've +always expected," said she. Then, with a tinge of suspicion, +"Would you have taken her without the ring and handkerchief?" + +"Perhaps I should," said the other, gently. "But that seems to +make it a clearer call." + +"Fair enough," said Madam Delia, submitting. "I ain't denyin' of +it." Then she reflected and recommenced. "There never was such a +smart performin' child as that since the world began. She can do +just anythin', and just as easy! Time and again I might have +hired her out to a circus, and she glad of the chance, mind you; +but no, I would keep her safe to home. Then when she showed me +the ring and the other things, all my expectations altered very +sudden; I knowed we couldn't keep her, and I began to mistrust +that she would somehow find her folks. I guess my rathers was +that she should, considerin'; but I did wish it had been Anne, +for she ain't got nothin' better in her than just to live +genteel." + +"But Anne seems a nice child, too," said Miss Martha, +consolingly. + +"Well, that's just what she is," replied Madam Delia, with some +contempt. "But what is she for a contortionist? Ask Comstock what +she's got in her! And how to run the show without Gerty, that's +what beats me. Why, folks begin to complain already that we +advertise swallerin', and yet don't swaller. But never you mind, +ma'am, you shall have Gerty. You shall have her," she added, with +a gulp, "if I have to sell out! Go ahead!" And again the apron +went over her face. + +At this point, Gerty waked up with a little murmur, looked up at +Miss Martha's kind face, and smiled a sweet, childish smile. Half +asleep still, she put out one thin, muscular little hand, and +went to sleep as the old lady took it in hers. A kiss awaked her. + +"What has thee been dreaming about, my little girl?" said Miss +Martha. + +"Angels and things, I guess," said the child, somewhat roused. + +"Will thee go home with me and live?" said the lady. + +"Yes'm," replied Gerty, and went to sleep again. + +Two days later she was well enough to ride to Miss Martha's in a +carriage, escorted by Madam Delia and by Anne, "that dull, +uninteresting child," as Miss Amy had reluctantly described her, +"so different from this graceful Adelaide." This romantic name +was a rapid assumption of the soft-hearted Miss Amy's, but, once +suggested, it was as thoroughly-fixed as if a dozen baptismal +fonts had written it in water. + +Madam Delia was sustained, up to the time of Gerty's going, by a +sense of self-sacrifice. But this emotion, like other strong +stimulants, has its reactions. That remorse for a crime committed +in vain, which Dr. Johnson thought the acutest of human emotions, +is hardly more depressing than to discover that we have got +beyond our depth in virtue, and are in water where we really +cannot quite swim,--and this was the good woman's position. +During her whole wandering though blameless life,--in her girlish +days, when she charmed snakes at Meddibemps, or through her brief +time of service as plain Car'line Prouty at the Biddeford mills, +or when she ran away from her step-mother and took refuge among +the Indians at Orono, or later, since she had joined her fate +with that of De Marsan,--she had never been so severely tried. + +"That child was so smart," she said, beneath the evening canvas, +to her sympathetic spouse. "I always expected when we got old +we'd kinder retire on a farm or suthin', and let her and her +husband--say Comstock, if he was young enough--run the business. +And even after she showed us the ring and things, I thought +likely she'd just come into her property somewheres and take care +of us. I don't know as I ever thought she'd leave us, either way, +and there she's gone." + +"She won't forget us," said the peaceful proprietor. + +"No," said the wife, "but it's lonesome. If it had only been +Anne! I shall miss Gerty the worst kind. And it'll kill the +show!" + +And to tell the truth, the show languished. Nothing but the happy +acquisition of a Chinese giant nearly eight feet high, with +slanting eyes and a long pigtail,--a man who did penance in his +height for the undue brevity of his undersized nation,--would +have saved the "museum." + +Meantime the neat proprieties of orderly life found but a poor +disciple in Gerty. Her warm heart opened to the dear old ladies; +but she found nothing familiar in this phantom of herself, this +well-dressed little girl who, after a rapid convalescence, was +introduced at school and "meeting" under the name of Adelaide. +The school studies did not dismay her, but she played the +jew's-harp at recess, and danced the clog-dance in india-rubbers, +to the dismay of the little Misses Grundy, her companions. In the +calisthenic exercises she threw beanbags with an untamed vigor +that soon ripped the stitches of the bags, and sowed those +vegetables in every crack of the school-room floor. There was a +ladder in the garden, and it was some comfort to ascend it hand +over hand upon the under side, or to hang by her toes from the +upper rung, to the terror of her schoolmates. + +But she became ashamed of the hardness of her palms, and she grew +in general weary of her life. Her clothes pinched her, so did her +new boots; Madam Delia had gone to Providence with the show, and +Gerty had not so much as seen the new Chinese giant. + +Of all days Sunday was the most objectionable, when she had to +sit still in Friends' Meeting and think how pleasant it would be +to hang by the knees, head downward, from the parapet of the +gallery. She liked better the Seamen's Bethel, near by, where +there was an aroma of tar and tarpaulin that suggested the odors +of the show-tent, and where, when the Methodist exhorter gave out +the hymn, "Howl, howl, ye winds of night," the choir rendered it +with such vigor that it was like being at sea in a northeaster. +But each week made her new life harder, until, having cried +herself asleep one Saturday evening, she rose early the next +morning for her orisons, which, I regret to say, were as +follows:-- + +"I must get out of this," quoth Gerty, "I must cut and run. I'll +make it all right for the old ladies, for I'll send 'em Anne. +She'll like it here first rate." + +She hunted up such remnants of her original wardrobe as had been +thought worth washing and preserving, and having put them on, +together with a hat whose trimmings had been vehemently burned by +Miss Martha, she set out to seek her fortune. Of all her new +possessions, she took only a pair of boots, and those she carried +in her hand as she crept softly down stairs. + +"Save us!" exclaimed Biddy, who had been to a Mission Mass of +incredible length, and was already sweeping the doorsteps. +"Christmas!" she added, as a still more pious ejaculation, when +the child said, "Good by, Biddy, I'm off now." + +"Where to, thin?" exclaimed Biddy. + +"To Providence," said Gerty. "But don't you tell." + +"But ye can't go the morn's mornin'," said Biddy. "It's Sunday +and there's no cars." + +"There's legs," replied the child, briefly, as she closed the +door. + +"It's much as iver," said the stumpy Hibernian, to herself, as +she watched the twinkling retreat of those slim, but vigorous +little members. + +They had been Gerty's support too long, in body and estate, for +her to shrink from trusting them in a walk of a dozen or a score +of miles. But the locomotion of Stephen's horse was quicker, and +she did not get seriously tired before being overtaken, and--not +without difficulty and some hot tears--coaxed back. Fortunately, +Madam Delia came down from Providence that evening, on a very +unexpected visit, and at the confidential hour of bedtime the +child's heart was opened and made a revelation. + +"Won't you be mad, if I tell you something?" she said to Madam +Delia, abruptly, + +"No," said the show-woman, with surprise. + +"Won't you let Comstock box my ears?" + +"I'll box his if he does," was the indignant answer. The gravest +contest that had ever arisen in the museum was when Monsieur +Comstock, teased beyond endurance, had thus taken the law into +his own hands. + +"Well," said Gerty, after a pause, "I ain't a great lady, no more +'n nothin'. Them things I brought to you was Anne's." + +"Anne's things?" gasped Madam Delia,--"the ring and the piece of +a handkerchief." + +"Yes, 'm," said Gerty, "and I've got the rest." And exploring her +little trunk, she produced from a slit in the lining the other +half of the ring, with the name "Anne Deering." + +"You naughty, naughty girl!" said Madam Delia. "How did you get +'em away from Anne?" + +"Coaxed her," said the child. + +"Well, how did you make her hush up about it?" + +"Told her I'd kill her if she said a single word," said Gerty, +undauntedly. "I showed her Pa De Marsan's old dirk-knife and told +her I'd stick it into her if she didn't hush. She was just such a +'fraid-cat she believed me. She might have known I didn't mean +nothin'. Now she can have 'em and be a lady. She was always +tallkin' about bein' a lady, and that put it into my head." + +"What did she want to be a lady for?" asked Madam Delia, +indignantly. + +"Said she wanted to have a parlor and dress tight. I don't want +to be one of her old ladies. I want to stay with you, Delia, and +learn the clog-dance." And she threw her arms round the +show-woman's neck and cried herself to sleep. + +Never did the energetic proprietress of a Museum and Variety +Combination feel a greater exultation than did Madam Delia that +night. The child's offence was all forgotten in the delight of +the discovery to which it led. If there had been expectations of +social glories to accrue to the house of De Marsan through +Gerty's social promotion, they melted away; and the more +substantial delight of still having someone to love and to be +proud of,--some object of tenderness warmer than snakes and +within nearer reach than a Chinese giant,--this came in its +stead. The show, too, was in a manner on its feet again. De +Marsan said that he would rather have Gerty than a hundred-dollar +bill. Madam Delia looked forward and saw herself sinking into the +vale of years without a sigh,--reaching a period when a serpent +fifteen feet long would cease to charm, or she to charm it,--and +still having a source of pride and prosperity in this triumphant +girl. + +The tent was in its glory on the day of Gerty's return; to be +sure, nothing in particular had been washed except the face of +Old Bill, but that alone was a marvel compared with which all +"Election Day" was feeble, and when you add a paper collar, words +can say no more. Monsieur Comstock also had that "ten times +barbered" look which Shakespeare ascribes to Mark Antony, and +which has belonged to that hero's successors in the histrionic +profession ever since. His chin was unnaturally smooth, his +mustache obtrusively perfumed, and nothing but the unchanged +dirtiness of his hands still linked him, like Antaeus, with the +earth. De Marsan had intended some personal preparation, but had +been, as usual, in no hurry, and the appointed moment found him, +as usual, in his shirt-sleeves. Madam Delia, however, wore a new +breastpin and gave Gerty another. And the great new attraction, +the Chinese giant, had put on a black broadcloth coat across his +bony shoulders, in her honor, and made a vigorous effort to sit +up straight, and appear at his ease when off duty. He habitually +stooped a good deal in private life, as if there were no object +in being eight feet high, except before spectators. + +Anne, the placid and imperturbable, was promoted to take the +place that Gerty had rejected, in the gentle home of the good +sisters. The secret of her birth, whatever it was, never came to +light but, she took kindly, as Madam Delia had predicted,to +"living genteel," and grew up into a well-behaved mediocrity, +unregretful of the show-tent. Yet probably no one reared within +the smell of sawdust ever quite outgrew all taste for "the +profession," and Anne, even when promoted to good society, never +missed seeing a performance when her wandering friends came by. +If I told you under what name Gerty became a star in the +low-comedy line, after her marriage, you would all recognize it; +and if you had seen her in "Queen Pippin" or the "Shooting-Star" +pantomime, you would wish to see her again. Her first child was +named after Madam Delia, and proved to be a placid little thing, +demure enough to have been born in a Quaker family, and +exhibiting no contortions or gymnastics but those common to its +years. And you may be sure that the retired show-woman found in +the duties of brevet-grand-mother a glory that quite surpassed +her expectations. + + + +SUNSHINE AND PETRARCH. + +Near my summer home there is a little cove or landing by the bay, +where nothing larger than a boat can ever anchor. I sit above it +now, upon the steep bank, knee-deep in buttercups, and amid grass +so lush and green that it seems to ripple and flow instead of +waving. Below lies a tiny beach, strewn with a few bits of +drift-wood and some purple shells, and so sheltered by projecting +walls that its wavelets plash but lightly. A little farther out +the sea breaks more roughly over submerged rocks, and the waves +lift themselves, before breaking, in an indescribable way, as if +each gave a glimpse through a translucent window, beyond which +all ocean's depths might be clearly seen, could one but hit the +proper angle of vision. On the right side of my retreat a high +wall limits the view, while close upon the left the crumbling +parapet of Fort Greene stands out into the foreground, its +verdant scarp so relieved against the blue water that each +inward-bound schooner seems to sail into a cave of grass. In the +middle distance is a white lighthouse, and beyond lie the round +tower of old Fort Louis and the soft low hills of Conanicut. + +Behind me an oriole chirrups in triumph amid the birch-trees +which wave around the house of the haunted window; before me a +kingfisher pauses and waits, and a darting blackbird shows the +scarlet on his wings. Sloops and schooners constantly come and +go, careening in the wind, their white sails taking, if remote +enough, a vague blue mantle from the delicate air. Sail-boats +glide in the distance,--each a mere white wing of canvas,--or +coming nearer, and glancing suddenly into the cove, are put as +suddenly on the other tack, and almost in an instant seem far +away. There is to-day such a live sparkle on the water, such a +luminous freshness on the grass, that it seems, as is so often +the case in early June, as if all history were a dream, and the +whole earth were but the creation of a summer's day. + +If Petrarch still knows and feels the consummate beauty of these +earthly things, it may seem to him some repayment for the sorrows +of a life-time that one reader, after all this lapse of years, +should choose his sonnets to match this grass, these blossoms, +and the soft lapse of these blue waves. Yet any longer or more +continuous poem would be out of place to-day. I fancy that this +narrow cove prescribes the proper limits of a sonnet; and when I +count the lines of ripple within yonder projecting wall, there +proves to be room for just fourteen. Nature meets our whims with +such little fitnesses. The words which build these delicate +structures of Petrarch's are as soft and fine and close-textured +as the sands upon this tiny beach, and their monotone, if such it +be, is the monotone of the neighboring ocean. Is it not possible, +by bringing such a book into the open air, to separate it from +the grimness of commentators, and bring it back to life and light +and Italy? + +The beautiful earth is the same as when this poetry and passion +were new; there is the same sunlight, the same blue water and +green grass; yonder pleasure-boat might bear, for aught we know, +the friends and lovers of five centuries ago; Petrarch and Laura +might be there, with Boccaccio and Fiammetta as comrades, and +with Chaucer as their stranger guest. It bears, at any rate, if I +know its voyagers, eyes as lustrous, voices as sweet. With the +world thus young, beauty eternal, fancy free, why should these +delicious Italian pages exist but to be tortured into grammatical +examples? Is there no reward to be imagined for a delightful book +that can match Browning's fantastic burial of a tedious one? When +it has sufficiently basked in sunshine, and been cooled in pure +salt air, when it has bathed in heaped clover, and been scented, +page by page, with melilot, cannot its beauty once more blossom, +and its buried loves revive? + +Emboldened by such influences, at least let me translate a +sonnet, and see if anything is left after the sweet Italian +syllables are gone. Before this continent was discovered, before +English literature existed, when Chaucer was a child, these words +were written. Yet they are to-day as fresh and perfect as these +laburnum-blossoms that droop above my head. And as the variable +and uncertain air comes freighted with clover-scent from yonder +field, so floats through these long centuries a breath of +fragrance, the memory of Laura. + SONNET 129. + "Lieti fiori e felici." + O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers! + 'Mid which my queen her gracious footstep sets; + O plain, that keep'st her words for amulets + And hold'st her memory in thy leafy bowers! + O trees, with earliest green of spring-time hours, + And spring-time's pale and tender violets! + O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets + His blithe rays gild the outskirts of your towers! + O pleasant country-side! O purest stream, + That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear, + And of their living light can catch the beam! + I envy you her haunts so close and dear. + There is no rock so senseless but I deem + It burns with passion that to mine is near. + +Goethe compared translators to carriers, who convey good wine to +market, though it gets unaccountably watered by the way. The more +one praises a poem, the more absurd becomes one's position, +perhaps, in trying to translate it. If it is so admirable--is the +natural inquiry,--why not let it alone? It is a doubtful blessing +to the human race, that the instinct of translation still +prevails, stronger than reason; and after one has once yielded to +it, then each untranslated favorite is like the trees round a +backwoodsman's clearing, each of which stands, a silent defiance, +until he has cut it down. Let us try the axe again. This is to +Laura singing. + SONNET 134. + "Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina." + When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, + And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh + Soft as his touch, and leads a minstrelsy + Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine, + He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, + And to my thoughts brings transformation high, + So that I say, "My time has come to die, + If fate so blest a death for me design." + But to my soul thus steeped in joy the sound + Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven, + It holds my spirit back to earth as well. + And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound + The thread of life which unto me was given + By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell. + +As I look across the bay, there is seen resting over all the +hills, and even upon every distant sail, an enchanted veil of +palest blue, that seems woven out of the very souls of happy +days,--a bridal veil, with which the sunshine weds this soft +landscape in summer. Such and so indescribable is the atmospheric +film that hangs over these poems of Petrarch's; there is a +delicate haze about the words, that vanishes when you touch them, +and reappears as you recede. How it clings, for instance, around +this sonnet! + SONNET 191. + "Aura che quelle chiome." + Sweet air, that circlest round those radiant tresses, + And floatest, mingled with them, fold on fold, + Deliciously, and scatterest that fine gold, + Then twinest it again, my heart's dear jesses, + Thou lingerest on those eyes, whose beauty presses + Stings in my heart that all its life exhaust, + Till I go wandering round my treasure lost, + Like some scared creature whom the night distresses. + I seem to find her now, and now perceive + How far away she is; now rise, now fall; + Now what I wish, now what is true, believe. + O happy air! since joys enrich thee all, + Rest thee; and thou, O stream too bright to grieve! + Why can I not float with thee at thy call? + +The airiest and most fugitive among Petrarch's love-poems, so far +as I know,--showing least of that air of earnestness which he has +contrived to impart to almost all,--is this little ode or +madrigal. It is interesting to see, from this, that he could be +almost conventional and courtly in moments when he held Laura +farthest aloof; and when it is compared with the depths of solemn +emotion in his later sonnets, it seems like the soft glistening +of young birch-leaves against a background of pines. + CANZONE XXIII. + "Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta." + A new-born angel, with her wings extended, + Came floating from the skies to this fair shore, + Where, fate-controlled, I wandered with my sorrows. + She saw me there, alone and unbefriended, + She wove a silken net, and threw it o'er + The turf, whose greenness all the pathway borrows, + Then was I captured; nor could fears arise, + Such sweet seduction glimmered from her eyes. + +Turn from these light compliments to the pure and reverential +tenderness of a sonnet like this:- + SONNET 223. + +"Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama." + Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame + Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy? Gaze in the eyes of that +sweet enemy + Whom all the world doth as my lady name! + How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame, + How truth is joined with graceful dignity, + There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be + To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim; + There learn soft speech, beyond all poet's skill, + And softer silence, and those holy ways + Unutterable, untold by human heart. + But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill, + This none can copy! since its lovely rays + Are given by God's pure grace, and not by art. + +The following, on the other hand, seems to me one of the +Shakespearian sonnets; the successive phrases set sail, one by +one, like a yacht squadron; each spreads its graceful wings and +glides away. It is hard to handle this white canvas without +soiling. Macgregor, in the only version of this sonnet which I +have seen, abandons all attempt at rhyme; but to follow the +strict order of the original in this respect is a part of the +pleasant problem which one cannot bear to forego. And there seems +a kind of deity who presides over this union of languages, and +who sometimes silently lays the words in order, after all one's +own poor attempts have failed. + +SONNET 128. + +"O passi sparsi; o pensier vaghi e pronti" + O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams! + O changeless memory! O fierce desire! + O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire; + O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams; + O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems + The sole reward that glory's deeds require; + O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire, + That all my days from slothful rest redeems; + O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well + His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move + At his least will; nor can it find relief. + O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell + Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love! + Linger, and see my passion and my grief. + +Yonder flies a kingfisher, and pauses, fluttering like a +butterfly in the air, then dives toward a fish, and, failing, +perches on the projecting wall. Doves from neighboring dove-cotes +alight on the parapet of the fort, fearless of the quiet cattle +who find there a breezy pasture. These doves, in taking flight, +do not rise from the ground at once, but, edging themselves +closer to the brink, with a caution almost ludicrous in such airy +things, trust themselves upon the breeze with a shy little hop, +and at the next moment are securely on the wing. + +How the abundant sunlight inundates everything! The great clumps +of grass and clover are imbedded in it to the roots; it flows in +among their stalks, like water; the lilac-bushes bask in it +eagerly; the topmost leaves of the birches are burnished. A +vessel sails by with plash and roar, and all the white spray +along her side is sparkling with sunlight. Yet there is sorrow in +the world, and it reached Petrarch even before Laura died,--when +it reached her. This exquisite sonnet shows it:- + SONNET 123. + "I' vidi in terra angelici costumi." + I once beheld on earth celestial graces, + And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known, + Whose memory lends nor joy nor grief alone, + But all things else bewilders and effaces. + I saw how tears had left their weary traces + Within those eyes that once like sunbeams shone, + I heard those lips breathe low and plaintive moan, + Whose spell might once have taught the hills their places. + Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth, + Made ill their mourning strains more high and dear + Than ever wove sweet sounds for mortal ear; + And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth The very +leaves upon the boughs to soothe, + Such passionate sweetness filled the atmosphere. + +These sonnets are in Petrarch's earlier manner; but the death of +Laura brought a change. Look at yonder schooner coming down the +bay, straight toward us; she is hauled close to the wind, her jib +is white in the sunlight, her larger sails are touched with the +same snowy lustre, and all the swelling canvas is rounded into +such lines of beauty as scarcely anything else in the +world--hardly even the perfect outlines of the human form--can +give. Now she comes up into the wind, and goes about with a +strong flapping of the sails, smiting on the ear at a half-mile's +distance; then she glides off on the other tack, showing the +shadowed side of her sails, until she reaches the distant zone of +haze. So change the sonnets after Laura's death, growing shadowy +as they recede, until the very last seems to merge itself in the +blue distance. + SONNET 251. + "Gli occhi di ch' io parlai." + Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose, + The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile + Could my own soul from its own self beguile, And in a separate +world of dreams enclose, + The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows, + And the soft lightning of the angelic smile + That changed this earth to some celestial isle, + Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows. + And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn, + Left dark without the light I loved in vain, + Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn; + Dead is the source of all my amorous strain, + Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn, + And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain. + +"And yet I live!" What a pause is implied before these words! the +drawing of a long breath, immeasurably long; like that vast +interval of heart-beats that precedes Shakespeare's "Since +Cleopatra died." I can think of no other passage in literature +that has in it the same wide spaces of emotion. + +The following sonnet seems to me the most stately and +concentrated in the whole volume. It is the sublimity of a +despair not to be relieved by utterance. + SONNET 253. + "Soleasi nel mio cor." + She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, + A noble lady in a humble home, And now her time for heavenly +bliss has come, + 'T is I am mortal proved, and she divine. + The soul that all its blessings must resign, + And love whose light no more on earth finds room + Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom, + Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine; + They weep within my heart; and ears are deaf + Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care, + And naught remains to me save mournful breath. + Assuredly but dust and shade we are, + Assuredly desire is blind and brief, + Assuredly its hope but ends in death. + +In a later strain he rises to that dream which is more than +earth's realities. + SONNET 261. + "Levommi il mio pensiero." + Dreams bore my fancy to that region where + She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. + 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be + I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. + She touched my hand, she said, "Within this sphere, + If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: + I filled thy life with war's wild agony; + Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. + My bliss no human brain can understand; + I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil + Of beauty thou dost love shall wear again." + Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand + Ere those delicious tones could quite avail + To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain? + +It vindicates the emphatic reality and pesonality of Petrarch's +love, after all, that when from these heights of vision he +surveys and resurveys his life's long dream, it becomes to him +more and more definite, as well as more poetic, and is farther +and farther from a merely vague sentimentalism. In his later +sonnets, Laura grows more distinctly individual to us; her traits +show themselves as more characteristic, her temperament more +intelligible, her precise influence upon Petrarch clearer. What +delicate accuracy of delineation is seen, for instance, in this +sonnet! + SONNET 314. + "Dolci durezze e placide repulse." + Gentle severity, repulses mild, + Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing; + Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring + Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled; + A soft-toned voice, whose accents undefiled + Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring; + The bloom of virtue; purity's clear spring + To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild; Divinest eyes +to make a lover's bliss, + Whether to bridle in the wayward mind + Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss, + Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind; + This sweet completeness of thy life it is + That saved my soul; no other peace I find. + +In the following sonnet visions multiply upon visions. Would that +one could transfer into English the delicious way in which the +sweet Italian rhymes recur and surround and seem to embrace each +other, and are woven and unwoven and interwoven, like the +heavenly hosts that gathered around Laura. + SONNET 302. + "Gli angeli eletti." + The holy angels and the spirits blest, + Celestial bands, upon that day serene + When first my love went by in heavenly mien, + Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest. + "What light is here, in what new beauty drest?" + They said among themselves; "for none has seen + Within this age come wandering such a queen + From darkened earth into immortal rest." + And she, contented with her new-found bliss, + Ranks with the purest in that upper sphere, + Yet ever and anon looks back on this, To watch for me, as if +for me she stayed. + So strive, my thoughts, lest that high path I miss. + I hear her call, and must not be delayed. + +These odes and sonnets are all but parts of one symphony, leading +us through a passion strengthened by years and only purified by +death, until at last the graceful lay becomes an anthem and a +Nunc dimittis. In the closing sonnets Petrarch withdraws from the +world, and they seem like voices from a cloister, growing more +and more solemn till the door is closed. This is one of the +last:- + SONNET 309. + "Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio." + Oft by my faithful mirror I am told, + And by my mind outworn and altered brow, + My earthly powers impaired and weakened now, + "Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!" + Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold, + And Time to his commandments bids us bow. + Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow + In life's long dream no more my sense to fold. + And while I think, our swift existence flies, + And none can live again earth's brief career, + Then in my deepest heart the voice replies + Of one who now has left this mortal sphere, + But walked alone through earthly destinies, + And of all women is to fame most dear. + +How true is this concluding line! Who can wonder that women prize +beauty, and are intoxicated by their own fascinations, when these +fragile gifts are yet strong enough to outlast all the memories +of statesmanship and war? Next to the immortality of genius is +that which genius may confer upon the object of its love. Laura, +while she lived, was simply one of a hundred or a thousand +beautiful and gracious Italian women; she had her loves and +aversions, joys and griefs; she cared dutifully for her +household, and embroidered the veil which Petrarch loved; her +memory appeared as fleeting and unsubstantial as that woven +tissue. After five centuries we find that no armor of that iron +age was so enduring. The kings whom she honored, the popes whom +she revered are dust, and their memory is dust, but literature is +still fragrant with her name. An impression which has endured so +long is ineffaceable; it is an earthly immortality. + +"Time is the chariot of all ages to carry men away, and beauty +cannot bribe this charioteer." Thus wrote Petrarch in his Latin +essays; but his love had wealth that proved resistless and for +Laura the chariot stayed. + + + +A SHADOW. + +I shall always remember one winter evening, a little before +Christmas-time, when I took a long, solitary walk in the +outskirts of the town. The cold sunset had left a trail of orange +light along the horizon, the dry snow tinkled beneath my feet, +and the early stars had a keen, clear lustre that matched well +with the sharp sound and the frosty sensation. For some time I +had walked toward the gleam of a distant window, and as I +approached, the light showed more and more clearly through the +white curtains of a little cottage by the road. I stopped, on +reaching it, to enjoy the suggestion of domestic cheerfulness in +contrast with the dark outside. I could not see the inmates, nor +they me; but something of human sympathy came from that steadfast +ray. + +As I looked, a film of shade kept appearing and disappearing with +rhythmic regularity in a corner of the window, as if some one +might be sitting in a low rocking-chair close by. Presently the +motion ceased, and suddenly across the curtain came the shadow of +a woman. She raised in her arms the shadow of a baby, and kissed +it; then both disappeared, and I walked on. + +What are Raphael's Madonnas but the shadow of a mother's love, so +traced as to endure forever? In this picture of mine, the group +actually moved upon the canvas. The curtains that hid it revealed +it. The ecstasy of human love passed in brief, intangible +panorama before me. It was something seen, yet unseen; airy, yet +solid; a type, yet a reality; fugitive, yet destined to last in +my memory while I live. It said more to me than would any Madonna +of Raphael's, for his mother never kisses her child. I believe I +have never passed over that road since then, never seen the +house, never heard the names of its occupants. Their character, +their history, their fate, are all unknown. But these two will +always stand for me as disembodied types of humanity,--the Mother +and the Child; they seem nearer to me than my immediate +neighbors, yet they are as ideal and impersonal as the goddesses +of Greece or as Plato's archetypal man. + +I know not the parentage of that child, whether black or white, +native or foreign, rich or poor. It makes no difference. The +presence of a baby equalizes all social conditions. On the floor +of some Southern hut, scarcely so comfortable as a dog-kennel, I +have seen a dusky woman look down upon her infant with such an +expression of delight as painter never drew. No social culture +can make a mother's face more than a mother's, as no wealth can +make a nursery more than a place where children dwell. Lavish +thousands of dollars on your baby-clothes, and after all the +child is prettiest when every garment is laid aside. That +becoming nakedness, at least, may adorn the chubby darling of the +poorest home. + +I know not what triumph or despair may have come and gone through +that wayside house since then, what jubilant guests may have +entered, what lifeless form passed out. What anguish or what sin +may have come between that woman and that child; through what +worlds they now wander, and whether separate or in each other's +arms,--this is all unknown. Fancy can picture other joys to which +the first happiness was but the prelude, and, on the other hand, +how easy to imagine some special heritage of human woe and call +it theirs! + "I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, + Lord of thy house and hospitality; + And Grief, uneasy lover, might not rest + Save when he sat within the touch of thee." + +Nay, the foretaste of that changed fortune may have been present, +even in the kiss. Who knows what absorbing emotion, besides +love's immediate impulse, may have been uttered in that shadowy +embrace? There may have been some contrition for ill-temper or +neglect, or some triumph over ruinous temptation, or some pledge +of immortal patience, or some heart-breaking prophecy of +bereavement. It may have been simply an act of habitual +tenderness, or it may have been the wild reaction toward a +neglected duty; the renewed self-consecration of the saint, or +the joy of the sinner that repenteth. No matter. She kissed the +baby. The feeling of its soft flesh, the busy struggle of its +little arms between her hands, the impatient pressure of its +little feet against her knees,--these were the same, whatever the +mood or circumstance beside. They did something to equalize joy +and sorrow, honor and shame. Maternal love is love, whether a +woman be a wife or only a mother. Only a mother! + +The happiness beneath that roof may, perhaps, have never reached +so high a point as at that precise moment of my passing. In the +coarsest household, the mother of a young child is placed on a +sort of pedestal of care and tenderness, at least for a time. She +resumes something of the sacredness and dignity of the maiden. +Coleridge ranks as the purest of human emotions that of a husband +towards a wife who has a baby at her breast,--"a feeling how free +from sensual desire, yet how different from friendship!" And to +the true mother however cultivated, or however ignorant, this +period of early parentage is happier than all else, in spite of +its exhausting cares. In that delightful book, the "Letters" of +Mrs. Richard Trench (mother of the well-known English writer), +the most agreeable passage is perhaps that in which, after +looking back upon a life spent in the most brilliant society of +Europe, she gives the palm of happiness to the time when she was +a young mother. She writes to her god-daughter: "I believe it is +the happiest time of any woman's life, who has affectionate +feelings, and is blessed with healthy and well-disposed children. +I know at least that neither the gayeties and boundless hopes of +early life, nor the more grave pursuits and deeper affections of +later years, are by any means comparable in my recollection with +the serene, yet lively pleasure of seeing my children playing on +the grass, enjoying their little temperate supper, or repeating +'with holy look' their simple prayers, and undressing for bed, +growing prettier for every part of their dress they took off, and +at last lying down, all freshness and love, in complete +happiness, and an amiable contest for mamma's last kiss." + +That kiss welcomed the child into a world where joy predominates. +The vast multitude of human beings enjoy existence and wish to +live. They all have their earthly life under their own control. +Some religions sanction suicide; the Christian Scriptures nowhere +explicitly forbid it; and yet it is a rare thing. Many persons +sigh for death when it seems far off, but the desire vanishes +when the boat upsets, or the locomotive runs off the track, or +the measles set in. A wise physician once said to me: "I observe +that every one wishes to go to heaven, but I observe that most +people are willing to take a great deal of very disagreeable +medicine first. "The lives that one least envies--as of the +Digger Indian or the outcast boy in the city--are yet sweet to +the living. "They have only a pleasure like that of the brutes," +we say with scorn. But what a racy and substantial pleasure is +that! The flashing speed of the swallow in the air, the cool play +of the minnow in the water, the dance of twin butterflies round a +thistle-blossom, the thundering gallop of the buffalo across the +prairie, nay, the clumsy walk of the grizzly bear; it were +doubtless enough to reward existence, could we have joy like such +as these, and ask no more. This is the hearty physical basis of +animated life, and as step by step the savage creeps up to the +possession of intellectual manhood, each advance brings with it +new sorrow and new joy, with the joy always in excess. + +There are many who will utterly disavow this creed that life is +desirable in itself. A fair woman in a ball-room, exquisitely +dressed, and possessed of all that wealth could give, once +declared to me her belief--and I think honestly--that no person +over thirty was consciously happy, or would wish to live, but for +the fear of death. There could not even be pleasure in +contemplating one's children, she asserted, since they were +living in such a world of sorrow. Asking the opinion, within half +an hour, of another woman as fair and as favored by fortune, I +found directly the opposite verdict. "For my part I can truly +say," she answered, "that I enjoy every moment I live." The +varieties of temperament and of physical condition will always +afford us these extremes; but the truth lies between them, and +most persons will endure many sorrows and still find life sweet. + +And the mother's kiss welcomes the child into a world where good +predominates as well as joy. What recreants must we be, in an age +that has abolished slavery in America and popularized the +governments of all Europe, if we doubt that the tendency of man +is upward! How much that the world calls selfishness is only +generosity with narrow walls,--a too exclusive solicitude to +maintain a wife in luxury or make one's children rich! In an +audience of rough people a generous sentiment always brings down +the house. In the tumult of war both sides applaud an heroic +deed. A courageous woman, who had traversed alone, on benevolent +errands, the worst parts of New York told me that she never felt +afraid except in the solitudes of the country; wherever there was +a crowd, she found a protector. + +A policeman of great experience once spoke to me with admiration +of the fidelity of professional thieves to each other, and the +risks they would run for the women whom they loved; when "Bristol +Bill" was arrested, he said, there was found upon the burglar a +set of false keys, not quite finished, by which he would +certainly, within twenty-four hours, have had his mistress out of +jail. Parent-Duchatelet found always the remains of modesty among +the fallen women of Paris hospitals; and Mayhew, amid the London +outcasts, says that he thinks better of human nature every day. +Even among politicians, whom it is our American fashion to revile +as the chief of sinners, there is less of evil than of good. + +In Wilberforce's "Memoirs" there is an account of his having once +asked Mr. Pitt whether his long experience as Prime Minister had +made him think well or ill of his fellow-men. Mr. Pitt answered, +"Well"; and his successor, Lord Melbourne, being asked the same +question, answered, after a little reflection, "My opinion is the +same as that of Mr. Pitt." + +Let us have faith. It was a part of the vigor of the old Hebrew +tradition to rejoice when a man-child was born into the world; +and the maturer strength of nobler ages should rejoice over a +woman-child as well. Nothing human is wholly sad, until it is +effete and dying out. Where there is life there is promise. +"Vitality is always hopeful," was the verdict of the most refined +and clear-sighted woman who has yet explored the rough mining +villages of the Rocky Mountains. There is apt to be a certain +coarse virtue in rude health; as the Germanic races were purest +when least civilized, and our American Indians did not unlearn +chastity till they began to decay. But even where vigor and vice +are found together, they still may hold a promise for the next +generation. Out of the strong cometh forth sweetness. Parisian +wickedness is not so discouraging merely because it is wicked, as +from a suspicion that it is draining the life-blood of the +nation. A mob of miners or of New York bullies may be +uncomfortable neighbors, and may make a man of refinement +hesitate whether to stop his ears or to feel for his revolver; +but they hold more promise for the coming generations than the +line which ends in Madame Bovary or the Vicomte de Camors. + +But behind that cottage curtain, at any rate, a new and prophetic +life had begun. I cannot foretell that child's future, but I know +something of its past. The boy may grow up into a criminal, the +woman into an outcast, yet the baby was beloved. It came "not in +utter nakedness." It found itself heir of the two prime +essentials of existence,--life and love. Its first possession was +a woman's kiss; and in that heritage the most important need of +its career was guaranteed. "An ounce of mother," says the Spanish +proverb, "is worth a pound of clergy." Jean Paul says that in +life every successive influence affects us less and less, so that +the circumnavigator of the globe is less influenced by all the +nations he has seen than by his nurse. Well may the child imbibe +that reverence for motherhood which is the first need of man. +Where woman is most a slave, she is at least sacred to her son. +The Turkish Sultan must prostrate himself at the door of his +mother's apartments, and were he known to have insulted her, it +would make his throne tremble. Among the savage African +Touaricks, if two parents disagree, it is to the mother that the +child's obedience belongs. Over the greater part of the earth's +surface, the foremost figures in all temples are the Mother and +Child. Christian and Buddhist nations, numbering together two +thirds of the world's population, unite in this worship. Into the +secrets of the ritual that baby in the window had already +received initiation. + +And how much spiritual influence may in turn have gone forth from +that little one! The coarsest father gains a new impulse to labor +from the moment of his baby's birth; he scarcely sees it when +awake, and yet it is with him all the time. Every stroke he +strikes is for his child. New social aims, new moral motives, +come vaguely up to him. The London costermonger told Mayhew that +he thought every man would like his son or daughter to have a +better start in the world than his own. After all, there is no +tonic like the affections. Philosophers express wonder that the +divine laws should give to some young girl, almost a child, the +custody of an immortal soul. But what instruction the baby brings +to the mother! She learns patience, self-control, endurance; her +very arm grows strong, so that she can hold the dear burden +longer than the father can. She learns to understand character, +too, by dealing with it. "In training my first children," said a +wise mother to me, "I thought that all were born just the same, +and that I was wholly responsible for what they should become. I +learned by degrees that each had a temperament of its own, which +I must study before I could teach it." And thus, as the little +ones grow older, their dawning instincts guide those of the +parents; their questions suggest new answers, and to have loved +them is a liberal education. + +For the height of heights is love. The philosopher dries into a +skeleton like that he investigates, unless love teaches him. He +is blind among his microscopes, unless he sees in the humblest +human soul a revelation that dwarfs all the world beside. While +he grows gray in ignorance among his crucibles, every girlish +mother is being illuminated by every kiss of her child. That +house is so far sacred, which holds within its walls this +new-born heir of eternity. But to dwell on these high mysteries +would take us into depths beyond the present needs of mother or +of infant, and it is better that the greater part of the +baby-life should be that of an animated toy. + +Perhaps it is well for all of us that we should live mostly on +the surfaces of things and should play with life, to avoid taking +it too hard. In a nursery the youngest child is a little more +than a doll, and the doll is a little less than a child. What +spell does fancy weave on earth like that which the one of these +small beings performs for the other? This battered and tattered +doll, this shapeless, featureless, possibly legless creature, +whose mission it is to be dragged by one arm, or stood upon its +head in the bathing-tub, until it finally reverts to the rag-bag +whence it came,--what an affluence of breathing life is thrown +around it by one touch of dawning imagination! Its little +mistress will find all joy unavailing without its sympathetic +presence, will confide every emotion to its pen-and-ink ears, and +will weep passionate tears if its extremely soiled person is +pricked when its clothes are mended. What psychologist, what +student of the human heart, has ever applied his subtile analysis +to the emotions of a child toward her doll? + +I read lately the charming autobiography of a little girl of +eight years, written literally from her own dictation. Since "Pet +Marjorie" I have seen no such actual self-revelation on the part +of a child. In the course of her narration she describes, with +great precision and correctness, the travels of the family +through Europe in the preceding year, assigning usually the place +of importance to her doll, who appears simply as "My Baby." +Nothing can be more grave, more accurate, more serious than the +whole history, but nothing in it seems quite so real and alive as +the doll. "When we got to Nice, I was sick. The next morning the +doctor came, and he said I had something that was very much like +scarlet fever. Then I had Annie take care of baby, and keep her +away, for I was afraid she would get the fever. She used to cry +to come to me, but I knew it wouldn't be good for her." + +What firm judgment is here, what tenderness without weakness, +what discreet motherhood! When Christmas came, it appears that +baby hung up her stocking with the rest. Her devoted parent had +bought for her a slate with a real pencil. Others provided +thimble and scissors and bodkin and a spool of thread, and a +travelling-shawl with a strap, and a cap with tarletan ruffles. +"I found baby with the cap on, early in the morning, and she was +so pleased she almost jumped out of my arms." Thus in the midst +of visits to the Coliseum and St. Peter's, the drama of early +affection goes always on. "I used to take her to hear the band, +in the carriage, and she went everywhere I did." But the love of +all dolls, as of other pets, must end with a tragedy, and here it +comes. "The next place we went to was Lucerne. There was a lovely +lake there, but I had a very sad time. One day I thought I'd take +baby down to breakfast, and, as I was going up stairs, my foot +slipped and baby broke her head. And O, I felt so bad! and I +cried out, and I ran up stairs to Annie, and mamma came, and O, +we were all so sorry! And mamma said she thought I could get +another head, but I said, 'It won't be the same baby.' And mamma +said, maybe we could make it seem so." + +At this crisis the elder brother and sister departed for Mount +Righi. "They were going to stay all night, and mamma and I stayed +at home to take care of each other. I felt very bad about baby +and about their going, too. After they went, mamma and I thought +we would go to the little town and see what we could find." After +many difficulties, a waxen head was discovered. "Mamma bought it, +and we took it home and put it on baby; but I said it wasn't like +my real baby, only it was better than having no child at all!" + +This crushing bereavement, this reluctant acceptance of a child +by adoption, to fill the vacant heart,--how real and formidable +is all this rehearsal of the tragedies of maturer years! I knew +an instance in which the last impulse of ebbing life was such a +gush of imaginary motherhood. + +A dear friend of mine, whose sweet charities prolong into a third +generation the unbounded benevolence of old Isaac Hopper, used to +go at Christmas-time with dolls and other gifts to the poor +children on Randall's Island. Passing the bed of a little girl +whom the physician pronounced to be unconscious and dying, the +kind visitor insisted on putting a doll into her arms. Instantly +the eyes of the little invalid opened, and she pressed the gift +eagerly to her heart, murmuring over it and caressing it. The +matron afterwards wrote that the child died within two hours, +wearing a happy face, and still clinging to her new-found +treasure. + +And beginning with this transfer of all human associations to a +doll, the child's life interfuses itself readily among all the +affairs of the elders. In its presence, formality vanishes, the +most oppressive ceremonial is a little relieved when children +enter. Their influence is pervasive and irresistible, like that +of water, which adapts itself to any landscape,--always takes its +place, welcome or unwelcome,--keeps its own level and seems +always to have its natural and proper margin. + + +Out of doors how children mingle with nature, and seem to begin +just where birds and butterflies leave off! Leigh Hunt, with his +delicate perceptions, paints this well: "The voices of children +seem as natural to the early morning as the voice of the birds. +The suddenness, the lightness, the loudness, the sweet confusion, +the sparkling gayety, seem alike in both. The sudden little +jangle is now here and now there; and now a single voice calls to +another, and the boy is off like the bird." So Heine, with deeper +thoughtfulness, noticed the "intimacy with the trees" of the +little wood-gatherer in the Hartz Mountains; soon the child +whistled like a linnet, and the other birds all answered him; +then he disappeared in the thicket with his bare feet and his +bundle of brushwood. + +"Children," thought Heine, "are younger than we, and can still +remember the time when they were trees or birds, and can +therefore understand and speak their language; but we are grown +old, and have too many cares, and too much jurisprudence and bad +poetry in our heads." + +But why go to literature for a recognition of what one may see by +opening one's eyes? Before my window there is a pool, two rods +square, that is haunted all winter by children,--clearing away +the snow of many a storm, if need be, and mining downward till +they strike the ice. I look this morning from the window, and the +pond is bare. In a moment I happen to look again, and it is +covered with a swarm of boys; a great migrating flock has settled +upon it, as if swooping down from parts unknown to scream and +sport themselves here. The air is full of their voices; they have +all tugged on their skates instantaneously, as it were by magic. +Now they are in a confused cluster, now they sweep round and +round in a circle, now it is broken into fragments and as quickly +formed again; games are improvised and abandoned; there seems to +be no plan or leader, but all do as they please, and yet somehow +act in concert, and all chatter all the time. Now they have +alighted, every one, upon the bank of snow that edges the pond, +each scraping a little hollow in which to perch. Now every perch +is vacant again, for they are all in motion; each moment +increases the jangle of shrill voices,--since a boy's outdoor +whisper to his nearest crony is as if he was hailing a ship in +the offing,--and what they are all saying can no more be made out +than if they were a flock of gulls or blackbirds. I look away +from the window once more, and when I glance out again there is +not a boy in sight. They have whirled away like snowbirds, and +the little pool sleeps motionless beneath the cheerful wintry +sun. Who but must see how gradually the joyous life of the animal +rises through childhood into man,--since the soaring gnats, the +glancing fishes, the sliding seals are all represented in this +mob of half-grown boyhood just released from school. + +If I were to choose among all gifts and qualities that which, on +the whole, makes life pleasantest, I should select the love of +children. No circumstance can render this world wholly a solitude +to one who has that possession. It is a freemasonry. Wherever one +goes, there are the little brethren and sisters of the mystic +tie. No diversity of race or tongue makes much difference. A +smile speaks the universal language. "If I value myself on +anything," said the lonely Hawthorne, "it is on having a smile +that children love." They are such prompt little beings; they +require so little prelude; hearts are won in two minutes, at that +frank period, and so long as you are true to them they will be +true to you. They need no argument, no bribery. They have a +hearty appetite for gifts, no doubt, but it is not for these that +they love the giver. Take the wealth of the world and lavish it +with counterfeited affection: I will win all the children's +hearts away from you by empty-handed love. The gorgeous toys will +dazzle them for an hour; then their instincts will revert to +their natural friends. In visiting a house where there are +children I do not like to take them presents: it is better to +forego the pleasure of the giving than to divide the welcome +between yourself and the gift. Let that follow after you are +gone. + +It is an exaggerated compliment to women when we ascribe to them +alone this natural sympathy with childhood. It is an individual, +not a sexual trait, and is stronger in many men than in many +women. It is nowhere better exhibited in literature than where +the happy Wilhelm Meister takes his boy by the hand, to lead him +"into the free and lordly world." Such love is not universal +among the other sex, though men, in that humility which so adorns +their natures, keep up the pleasing fiction that it is. As a +general rule any little girl feels some glimmerings of emotion +towards anything that can pass for a doll, but it does not follow +that, when grown older, she will feel as ready an instinct toward +every child. Try it. Point out to a woman some bundle of +blue-and-white or white-and-scarlet in some one's arms at the +next street corner. Ask her, "Do you love that baby?" Not one +woman in three will say promptly, "Yes." The others will +hesitate, will bid you wait till they are nearer, till they can +personally inspect the little thing and take an inventory of its +traits; it may be dirty, too; it may be diseased. Ah! but this is +not to love children, and you might as well be a man. To love +children is to love childhood, instinctively, at whatever +distance, the first impulse being one of attraction, though it +may be checked by later discoveries. Unless your heart commands +at least as long a range as your eye, it is not worth much. The +dearest saint in my calendar never entered a railway car that she +did not look round for a baby, which, when discovered, must +always be won at once into her arms. If it was dirty, she would +have been glad to bathe it; if ill, to heal it. It would not have +seemed to her anything worthy the name of love, to seek only +those who were wholesome and clean. Like the young girl in +Holmes's most touching poem, she would have claimed as her own +the outcast child whom nurses and physicians had abandoned. + "'Take her, dread Angel! Break in love + This bruised reed and make it thine!' + No voice descended from above, + But Avis answered, 'She is mine!'" + +When I think of the self-devotion which the human heart can +contain--of those saintly souls that are in love with sorrow, and +that yearn to shelter all weakness and all grief--it inspires an +unspeakable confidence that there must also be an instinct of +parentage beyond this human race, a heart of hearts, cor cordium. +As we all crave something to protect, so we long to feel +ourselves protected. We are all infants before the Infinite; and +as I turned from that cottage window to the resplendent sky, it +was easy to fancy that mute embrace, that shadowy symbol of +affection, expanding from the narrow lattice till it touched the +stars, gathering every created soul into the armsof Immortal +Love. + + + +FOOTPATHS. + +All round the shores of the island where I dwell there runs a +winding path. It is probably as old as the settlement of the +country, and has been kept open with pertinacious fidelity by the +fishermen whose right of way it represents. In some places, as +between Fort Adams and Castle Hill, it exists in its primitive +form, an irregular track above rough cliffs, whence you look down +upon the entrance to the harbor and watch the white-sailed +schooners that glide beneath. Elsewhere the high-road has usurped +its place, and you have the privilege of the path without its +charm. Along our eastern cliffs it runs for some miles in the +rear of beautiful estates, whose owners have seized on it, and +graded it, and gravelled it, and made stiles for it, and done for +it everything that landscape-gardening could do, while leaving it +a footpath still. You walk there with croquet and roses on the +one side, and with floating loons and wild ducks on the other. In +remoter places the path grows wilder, and has ramifications +striking boldly across the peninsula through rough moorland and +among great ledges of rock, where you may ramble for hours, out +of sight of all but some sportsman with his gun, or some +truant-boy with dripping water-lilies. There is always a charm to +me in the inexplicable windings of these wayward tracks; yet I +like the path best where it is nearest the ocean. There, while +looking upon blue sea and snowy sails and floating gulls, you may +yet hear on the landward side the melodious and plaintive drawl +of the meadow-lark, most patient of summer visitors, and, indeed, +lingering on this island almost the whole year round. + +But who cares whither a footpath leads? The charm is in the path +itself, its promise of something that the high-road cannot yield. +Away from habitations, you know that the fisherman, the +geologist, the botanist may have been there, or that the cows +have been driven home and that somewhere there are bars and a +milk-pail. Even in the midst of houses, the path suggests +school-children with their luncheon-baskets, or workmen seeking +eagerly the noonday interval or the twilight rest. A footpath +cannot be quite spoiled, so long as it remains such; you can make +a road a mere avenue for fast horses or showy women, but this +humbler track keeps its simplicity, and if a queen comes walking +through it, she comes but as a village maid. On Sunday, when it +is not etiquette for our fashionables to drive, but only to walk +along the cliffs, they seem to wear a more innocent and wholesome +aspect in that novel position; I have seen a fine lady pause +under such circumstances and pick a wild-flower; she knew how to +do it. A footpath has its own character, while that of the +high-road is imposed upon it by those who dwell beside it or pass +over it; indeed, roads become picturesque only when they are +called lanes and make believe that they are but paths. + +The very irregularity of a footpath makes half its charm. So much +of loitering and indolence and impulse have gone to its +formation, that all which is stiff and military has been left +out. I observed that the very dikes of the Southern rice +plantations did not succeed in being rectilinear, though the +general effect was that of Tennyson's "flowery squares." Even the +country road, which is but an enlarged footpath, is never quite +straight, as Thoreau long since observed, noting it with his +surveyor's eye. I read in his unpublished diary: "The law that +plants the rushes in waving lines along the edge of a pond, and +that curves the pond shore itself, incessantly beats against the +straight fences and highways of men, and makes them conform to +the line of beauty at last." It is this unintentional adaptation +that makes a footpath so indestructible. Instead of striking +across the natural lines, it conforms to them, nestles into the +hollow, skirts the precipice, avoids the morass. An unconscious +landscape-gardener, it seeks the most convenient course, never +doubting that grace will follow. Mitchell, at his "Edgewood" +farm, wishing to decide on the most picturesque avenue to his +front door, ordered a heavy load of stone to be hauled across the +field, and bade the driver seek the easiest grades, at whatever +cost of curvature. The avenue followed the path so made. + +When a footpath falls thus unobtrusively into its place, all +natural forces seem to sympathize with it, and help it to fulfil +its destiny. Once make a well-defined track through a wood, and +presently the overflowing brooks seek it for a channel, the +obstructed winds draw through it, the fox and woodchuck travel by +it, the catbird and robin build near it, the bee and swallow make +a high-road of its convenient thoroughfare. In winter the first +snows mark it with a white line; as you wander through you hear +the blue-jay's cry, and see the hurrying flight of the sparrow; +the graceful outlines of the leafless bushes are revealed, and +the clinging bird's-nests, "leaves that do not fall," give happy +memories of summer homes. Thus Nature meets man half-way. The +paths of the wild forest and of the rural neighborhood are not at +all the same thing; indeed, a "spotted trail," marked only by the +woodman's axe-marks on the trees, is not a footpath. Thoreau, who +is sometimes foolishly accused of having sought to be a mere +savage, understood this distinction well. "A man changes by his +presence," he says in his unpublished diary, "the very nature of +the trees. The poet's is not a logger's path, but a +woodman's,--the logger and pioneer have preceded him, and +banished decaying wood and the spongy mosses which feed on it, +and built hearths and humanized nature for him. For a permanent +residence, there can be no comparison between this and the +wilderness. Our woods are sylvan, and their inhabitants woodsmen +and rustics; that is, a selvaggia and its inhabitants salvages." +What Thoreau loved, like all men of healthy minds, was the +occasional experience of untamed wildness. "I love to see +occasionally," he adds, "a man from whom the usnea (lichen) hangs +as gracefully as from a spruce." + +Footpaths bring us nearer both to nature and to man. No +high-road, not even a lane, conducts to the deeper recesses of +the wood, where you hear the wood-thrush. There are a thousand +concealed fitnesses in nature, rhymed correspondences of bird and +blossom, for which you must seek through hidden paths; as when +you come upon some black brook so palisaded with cardinal-flowers +as to seem "a stream of sunsets"; or trace its shadowy course +till it spreads into some forest-pool, above which that rare and +patrician insect, the Agrion dragon-fly, flits and hovers +perpetually, as if the darkness and the cool had taken wings. The +dark brown pellucid water sleeps between banks of softest moss; +white stars of twin-flowers creep close to the brink, delicate +sprays of dewberry trail over it, and the emerald tips of +drooping leaves forever tantalize the still surface. Above these +the slender, dark-blue insect waves his dusky wings, like a +liberated ripple of the brook, and takes the few stray sunbeams +on his lustrous form. Whence came the correspondence between this +beautiful shy creature and the moist, dark nooks, shot through +with stray and transitory sunlight, where it dwells? The analogy +is as unmistakable as that between the scorching heats of summer +and the shrill cry of the cicada. They suggest questions that no +savant can answer, mysteries that wait, like Goethe's secret of +morphology, till a sufficient poet can be born. And we, +meanwhile, stand helpless in their presence, as one waits beside +the telegraphic wire, while it hums and vibrates, charged with +all fascinating secrets, above the heads of a wondering world. + +It is by the presence of pathways on the earth that we know it to +be the habitation of man; in the barest desert, they open to us a +common humanity. It is the absence of these that renders us so +lonely on the ocean, and makes us glad to watch even the track of +our own vessel. But on the mountain-top, how eagerly we trace out +the"road that brings places together," as Schiller says. It is +the first thing we look for; till we have found it, each +scattered village has an isolated and churlish look, but the +glimpse of a furlong of road puts them all in friendly relations. +The narrower the path, the more domestic and familiar it seems. + +The railroad may represent the capitalist or the government; the +high-road indicates what the surveyor or the county commissioners +thought best; but the footpath shows what the people needed. Its +associations are with beauty and humble life,--the boy with his +dog, the little girl with her fagots, the pedler with his pack; +cheery companions they are or ought to be. + "Jog on, jog on the footpath way, + And merrily hent the stile-a: + A merry heart goes all the day, + Your sad one tires in a mile-a." + +The footpath takes you across the farms and behind the houses; +you are admitted to the family secrets and form a personal +acquaintance. Even if you take the wrong path, it only leads you +"across-lots" to some man ploughing, or some old woman picking +berries,--perhaps a very spicy acquaintance, whom the road would +never have brought to light. If you are led astray in the woods, +that only teaches you to observe landmarks more closely, or to +leave straws and stakes for tokens, like a gypsy's patteran, to +show the ways already traversed. There is a healthy vigor in the +mind of the boy who would like of all things to be lost in the +woods, to build a fire out of doors,and sleep under a tree or in +a haystack. Civilization is tiresome and enfeebling, unless we +occasionally give it the relish of a little outlawry, and +approach, in imagination at least, the zest of a gypsy life. The +records of pedestrian journeys, the Wanderjahre and memoirs of +good-for-noth-ings, and all the delightful German forest +literature,--these belong to the footpath side of our nature. The +passage I best remember in all Bayard Taylor's travels is the +ecstasy of his Thuringian forester, who said: "I recall the time +when just a sunny morning made me so happy that I did not know +what to do with myself. One day in spring, as I went through the +woods and saw the shadows of the young leaves upon the moss, and +smelt the buds of the firs and larches, and thought to myself, +'All thy life is to be spent in the splendid forest,'I actually +threw myself down and rolled in the grass like a dog, over and +over, crazy with joy." + +It is the charm of pedestrian journeys that they convert the +grandest avenues to footpaths. Through them alone we gain +intimate knowledge of the people, and of nature, and indeed of +ourselves. It is easy to hurry too fast for our best reflections, +which, as the old monk said of perfection, must be sought not by +flying, but by walking, "Perfectionis via non pervolanda sed +perambulanda." The thoughts that the railway affords us are dusty +thoughts; we ask the news, read the journals, question our +neighbor, and wish to know what is going on because we are a part +of it. It is only in the footpath that our minds, like our +bodies, move slowly, and we traverse thought, like space, with a +patient thoroughness. Rousseau said that he had never experienced +so much, lived so truly, and been so wholly himself, as during +his travels on foot. + +What can Hawthorne mean by saying in his English diary that "an +American would never understand the passage in Bunyan about +Christian and Hopeful going astray along a by-path into the +grounds of Giant Despair, from there being no stiles and by-paths +in our country"? So much of the charm of American pedestrianism +lies in the by-paths! For instance, the whole interior of Cape +Ann, beyond Gloucester, is a continuous woodland, with granite +ledges everywhere cropping out, around which the high-road winds, +following the curving and indented line of the sea, and dotted +here and there with fishing hamlets. This whole interior is +traversed by a network of footpaths, rarely passable for a wagon, +and not always for a horse, but enabling the pedestrian to go +from any one of these villages to any other, in a line almost +direct, and always under an agreeable shade. By the longest of +these hidden ways, one may go from Pigeon Cove to Gloucester, ten +miles, without seeing a public road. In the little inn at the +former village there used to hang an old map of this whole forest +region, giving a chart of some of these paths, which were said to +date back to the first settlement of the country. One of them, +for instance, was called on the map "Old Road from Sandy Bay to +Squam Meeting-house through the Woods"; but the road is now +scarcely even a bridle-path, and the most faithful worshipper +could not seek Squam Meeting-house in the family chaise. Those +woods have been lately devastated; but when I first knew that +region, it was as good as any German forest. + +Often we stepped almost from the edge of the sea into some gap in +the woods; there seemed hardly more than a rabbit-track, yet +presently we met some wayfarer who had crossed the Cape by it. A +piny dell gave some vista of the broad sea we were leaving, and +an opening in the woods displayed another blue sea-line before; +the encountering breezes interchanged odor of berry-bush and +scent of brine; penetrating farther among oaks and chestnuts, we +came upon some little cottage, quaint and sheltered as any +Spenser drew; it was built on no high-road, and turned its +vine-clad gable away from even the footpath. + +Then the ground rose and we were surprised by a breeze from a new +quarter; perhaps we climbed trees to look for landmarks, and saw +only, still farther in the woods, some great cliff of granite or +the derrick of an unseen quarry. Three miles inland, as I +remember, we found the hearthstones of a vanished settlement; +then we passed a swamp with cardinal-flowers; then a cathedral of +noble pines, topped with crow's-nests. If we had not gone astray +by this time, we presently emerged on Dogtown Common, an elevated +table-land, over-spread with great boulders as with houses, and +encircled with a girdle of green woods and an outer girdle of +blue sea. I know of nothing more wild than that gray waste of +boulders; it is a natural Salisbury Plain, of which icebergs and +ocean-currents were the Druidic builders; in that multitude of +couchant monsters there seems a sense of suspended life; you feel +as if they must speak and answer to each other in the silent +nights, but by day only the wandering sea-birds seek them, on +their way across the Cape, and the sweet-bay and green fern embed +them in a softer and deeper setting as the years go by. This is +the "height of ground" of that wild footpath; but as you recede +farther from the outer ocean and approach Gloucester, you come +among still wilder ledges, unsafe without a guide, and you find +in one place a cluster of deserted houses, too difficult of +access to remove even their materials, so that they are left to +moulder alone. I used to wander in those woods, summer after +summer, till I had made my own chart of their devious tracks, and +now when I close my eyes in this Oldport midsummer, the soft +Italian air takes on something of a Scandinavian vigor; for the +incessant roll of carriages I hear the tinkle of the quarryman's +hammer and the veery's song; and I long for those perfumed and +breezy pastures, and for those promontories of granite where the +fresh water is nectar and the salt sea has a regal blue. + +I recall another footpath near Worcester, Massachusetts; it leads +up from the low meadows into the wildest region of all that +vicinity, Tatesset Hill. Leaving behind you the open pastures +where the cattle lie beneath the chestnut-trees or drink from the +shallow brook, you pass among the birches and maples, where the +woodsman's shanty stands in the clearing, and the +raspberry-fields are merry with children's voices. The familiar +birds and butterflies linger below with them, and in the upper +and more sacred depths the wood-thrush chants his litany and the +brown mountain butterflies hover among the scented vines. Higher +yet rises the "Rattlesnake Ledge," spreading over one side of the +summit a black avalanche of broken rock, now overgrown with +reindeer-moss and filled with tufts of the smaller wild geranium. +Just below this ledge,--amid a dark, dense track of second-growth +forest, masked here and there with grape-vines, studded with rare +orchises, and pierced by a brook that vanishes suddenly where the +ground sinks away and lets the blue distance in,--there is a +little monument to which the footpath leads, and which always +seemed to me as wild a memorial of forgotten superstition as the +traveller can find amid the forests of Japan. + +It was erected by a man called Solomon Pearson (not to give his +name too closely), a quiet, thoughtful farmer, long-bearded, +low-voiced, and with that aspect of refinement which an ideal +life brings forth even in quite uninstructed men. At the height +of the "Second Advent" excitement this man resolved to build for +himself upon these remote rocks a house which should escape the +wrath to come, and should endure even amid a burning and +transformed earth. Thinking, as he had once said to me, that, "if +the First Dispensation had been strong enough to endure, there +would have been no need of a Second," he resolved to build for +his part something which should possess permanence at least. And +there still remains on that high hillside the small beginning +that he made. + +There are four low stone walls, three feet thick, built solidly +together without cement, and without the trace of tools. The +end-walls are nine feet high (the sides being lower) and are +firmly united by a strong iron ridge-pole, perhaps fifteen feet +long, which is imbedded at each end in the stone. Other masses of +iron lie around unused, in sheets, bars, and coils, brought with +slow labor by the builder from far below. The whole building was +designed to be made of stone and iron. It is now covered with +creeping vines and the debris of the hillside; but though its +construction had been long discontinued when I saw it, the +interior was still kept scrupulously clean through the care of +this modern Solomon, who often visited his shrine. + +An arch in the terminal wall admits the visitor to the small +roofless temple, and he sees before him, imbedded in the centre +of the floor, a large smooth block of white marble, where the +deed of this spot of land was to be recorded, in the hope to +preserve it even after the globe should have been burned and +renewed. But not a stroke of this inscription was ever cut, and +now the young chestnut boughs droop into the uncovered interior, +and shy forest-birds sing fearlessly among them, having learned +that this house belongs to God, not man. As if to reassure them, +and perhaps in allusion to his own vegetarian habits, the +architect has spread some rough plaster at the head of the +apartment and marked on it in bold characters, "Thou shalt not +kill." Two slabs outside, a little way from the walls, bear these +inscriptions, "Peace on Earth," "Good-Will to Men." When I +visited it, the path was rough and so obstructed with bushes that +it was hard to comprehend how it had afforded passage for these +various materials; it seemed more as if some strange +architectural boulder had drifted from some Runic period and been +stranded there. It was as apt a confessional as any of +Wordsworth's nooks among the Trossachs; and when one thinks how +many men are wearing out their souls in trying to conform to the +traditional mythologies of others, it seems nobler in this man to +have reared upon that lonely hill the unfinished memorial of his +own. + +I recall another path which leads from the Lower Saranac Lake, +near "Martin's," to what the guides call, or used to call, "The +Philosopher's Camp" at Amperzand. On this oddly named lake, in +the Adirondack region, a tract of land was bought by Professor +Agassiz and his friends, who made there a summer camping-ground, +and with one comrade I once sought the spot. I remember with what +joy we left the boat,-- o delightful at first, so fatiguing at +last; for I cannot, with Mr. Murray, call it a merit in the +Adirondacks that you never have to walk,--and stepped away into +the free forest. We passed tangled swamps, so dense with upturned +trees and trailing mosses that they seemed to give no opening for +any living thing to pass, unless it might be the soft and silent +owl that turned its head almost to dislocation in watching us, +ere it flitted vaguely away. Farther on, the deep, cool forest +was luxurious with plumy ferns; we trod on moss-covered roots, +finding the emerald steps so soft we scarcely knew that we were +ascending; every breath was aromatic; there seemed infinite +healing in every fragrant drop that fell upon our necks from the +cedar boughs. We had what I think the pleasantest guide for a +daylight tramp,--one who has never before passed over that +particular route, and can only pilot you on general principles +till he gladly, at last, allows you to pilot him. When we once +got the lead we took him jubilantly on, and beginning to look for +"The Philosopher's Camp," found ourselves confronted by a large +cedar-tree on the margin of a wooded lake. This was plainly the +end of the path. Was the camp then afloat? Our escort was in that +state of hopeless ignorance of which only lost guides are +capable. We scanned the green horizon and the level water, +without glimpse of human abode. It seemed an enchanted lake, and +we looked about the tree-trunk for some fairy horn, that we might +blow it. That failing, we tried three rifle-shots, and out from +the shadow of an island, on the instant, there glided a boat, +which bore no lady of the lake, but a red-shirted woodsman. The +artist whom we sought was on that very island, it seemed, +sketching patiently while his guides were driving the deer. + +This artist was he whose "Procession of the Pines" had identified +his fame with that delightful forest region. He it was who had +laid out with artistic taste "The Philosopher's Camp," and who +was that season still awaiting philosophers as well as deer. He +had been there for a month, alone with the guides, and declared +that Nature was pressing upon him to an extent that almost drove +him wild. His eyes had a certain remote and questioning look that +belongs to imaginative men who dwell alone. It seemed an +impertinence to ask him to come out of his dream and offer us +dinner; but his instincts of hospitality failed not, and the +red-shirted guide was sent to the camp, which was, it seemed, on +the other side of the lake, to prepare our meal, while we bathed. +I am thus particular in speaking of the dinner, not only because +such is the custom of travellers, but also because it was the +occasion of an interlude which I shall never forget. As we were +undressing for our bath upon the lonely island, where the soft, +pale water almost lapped our feet, and the deep, wooded hills +made a great amphitheatre for the lake, our host bethought +himself of something neglected in his instructions. + +"Ben!" vociferated he to the guide, now rapidly receding. Ben +paused on his oars. + +"Remember to bo-o-oil the venison, Ben!" shouted the pensive +artist, while all the slumbering echoes arose to applaud this +culinary confidence. + +"And, Ben!" he added, imploringly, "don't forget the dumplings!" +Upon this, the loons, all down the lake, who had hitherto been +silent, took up the strain with vehemence, hurling their wild +laughter at the presumptuous mortal who thus dared to invade +their solitudes with details as trivial as Mr. Pickwick's +tomato-sauce. They repeated it over and over to each other, till +ten square miles of loons must have heard the news, and all +laughed together; never was there such an audience; they could +not get over it, and two hours after, when we had rowed over to +the camp and dinner had been served, this irreverent and +invisible chorus kept bursting out, at all points of the compass, +with scattered chuckles of delight over this extraordinary bill +of fare. Justice compels me to add that the dumplings were made +of Indian-meal, upon a recipe devised by our artist; the guests +preferred the venison, but the host showed a fidelity to his +invention that proved him to be indeed a dweller in an ideal +world. + +Another path that comes back to memory is the bare trail that we +followed over the prairies of Nebraska, in 1856, when the +Missouri River was held by roving bands from the Slave States, +and Freedom had to seek an overland route into Kansas. All day +and all night we rode between distant prairie-fires, pillars of +evening light and of morning cloud, while sometimes the low grass +would burn to the very edge of the trail, so that we had to hold +our breath as we galloped through. Parties of armed Missourians +were sometimes seen over the prairie swells, so that we had to +mount guard at nightfall; Free-State emigrants, fleeing from +persecution, continually met us; and we sometimes saw parties of +wandering Sioux, or passed their great irregular huts and houses +of worship. I remember one desolate prairie summit on which an +Indian boy sat motionless on horseback; his bare red legs clung +closely to the white sides of his horse; a gorgeous sunset was +unrolled behind him, and he might have seemed the last of his +race, just departing for the hunting-grounds of the blest. More +often the horizon showed no human outline, and the sun set +cloudless, and elongated into pear-shaped outlines, as behind +ocean-waves. But I remember best the excitement that filled our +breasts when we approached spots where the contest for a free +soil had already been sealed with blood. In those days, as one +went to Pennsylvania to study coal formations, or to Lake +Superior for copper, so one went to Kansas for men. "Every +footpath on this planet," said a rare thinker, "may lead to the +door of a hero," and that trail into Kansas ended rightly at the +tent-door of John Brown. + +And later, who that knew them can forget the picket-paths that +were worn throughout the Sea Islands of South Carolina,-- paths +that wound along the shores of creeks or through the depths of +woods, where the great wild roses tossed their airy festoons +above your head, and the brilliant lizards glanced across your +track, and your horse's ears suddenly pointed forward and his +pace grew uneasy as he snuffed the presence of something you +could not see. At night you had often to ride from picket to +picket in dense darkness, trusting to the horse to find his way, +or sometimes dismounting to feel with your hands for the track, +while the great Southern fire-flies offered their floating +lanterns for guidance, and the hoarse "Chuck-will's-widow" +croaked ominously from the trees, and the great guns of the siege +of Charleston throbbed more faintly than the drumming of a +partridge, far away. Those islands are everywhere so intersected +by dikes and ledges and winding creeks as to form a natural +military region, like La Vendee and yet two plantations that are +twenty miles asunder by the road will sometimes be united by a +footpath which a negro can traverse in two hours. These tracks +are limited in distance by the island formation, but they assume +a greater importance as you penetrate the mainland; they then +join great States instead of mere plantations, and if you ask +whither one of them leads, you are told "To Alabama," or "To +Tennessee." + +Time would fail to tell of that wandering path which leads to the +Mine Mountain near Brattleborough, where you climb the high peak +at last, and perhaps see the showers come up the Connecticut till +they patter on the leaves beneath you, and then, swerving, pass +up the black ravine and leave you unwet. Or of those among the +White Mountains, gorgeous with great red lilies which presently +seem to take flight in a cloud of butterflies that match their +tints,--paths where the balsamic air caresses you in light +breezes, and masses of alder-berries rise above the waving ferns. +Or of the paths that lead beside many a little New England +stream, whose bank is lost to sight in a smooth green slope of +grape-vine: the lower shoots rest upon the quiet water, but the +upper masses are crowned by a white wreath of alder-blooms; +beside them grow great masses of wild-roses, and the simultaneous +blossoms and berries of the gaudy nightshade. Or of those winding +tracks that lead here and there among the flat stones of peaceful +old graveyards, so entwined with grass and flowers that every +spray of sweetbrier seems to tell more of life than all the +accumulated epitaphs can tell of death. + +And when the paths that one has personally traversed are +exhausted, memory holds almost as clearly those which the poets +have trodden for us,--those innumerable by-ways of Shakespeare, +each more real than any high-road in England; or Chaucer's + "Little path I found + Of mintes full and fennell greene"; + +or Spenser's + "Pathes and alleies wide + With footing worne"; + + +or the path of Browning's "Pippa" + "Down the hillside, up the glen, + Love me as I love!" + +or the weary tracks by which "Little Nell" wandered; or the +haunted way in Sydney Dobell's ballad, + "Ravelstone, Ravelstone, + The merry path that leads + Down the golden morning hills, + And through the silver meads"; + +or the few American paths that genius has yet idealized; that +where Hawthorne's "David Swan" slept, or that which Thoreau found +upon the banks of Walden Pond, or where Whittier parted with his +childhood's playmate on Ramoth Hill. It is not heights, or +depths, or spaces that make the world worth living in; for the +fairest landscape needs still to be garlanded by the +imagination,--to become classic with noble deeds and romantic +with dreams. + +Go where we please in nature, we receive in proportion as we +give. Ivo, the old Bishop of Chartres, wrote, that "neither the +secret depth of woods nor the tops of mountains make man blessed, +if he has not with him solitude of mind, the sabbath of the +heart, and tranquillity of conscience." There are many roads, but +one termination; and Plato says, in his "Republic," that the +point where all paths meet is the soul's true resting-place and +the journey's end. + +The End. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Oldport Days by Thomas +Wentworth Higginson . + diff --git a/old/oldpt10.zip b/old/oldpt10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..300cb1f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/oldpt10.zip |